Rich People Problems-Kwan 2017 (WWT)

you to see my dermatologist. Those puffy lines under your eyes…I’m not happy with
them. Dr. Teo can do wonders with his laser.”
“Mum, it’s fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night,” Nick said.
“He was up all night writing his tribute to Ah Ma,” Rachel explained.
“Why did it take all night?” Eleanor asked.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write, Mum. You try condensing Ah Ma’s
entire life into a thousand words.”
Rachel squeezed Nick’s hand encouragingly. She knew how much he had struggled over
his speech, working on it until the wee hours and getting out of bed several times after
that to make a change or add another anecdote.
Eleanor kept prodding. “Why should there be a word limit?”
“Auntie Victoria insisted that I only have five minutes for my speech. And that’s about a
thousand words.”
“Five minutes? What nonsense! You were her closest grandson, and the only Young.
You should be allowed to speak as long as you wish!”
“Apparently there are going to be a lot of speeches, so I’m just toeing the party line,”
Nick said. “It’s fine, Mum. I’m very happy with my speech now.”
“Oh my. Who is that woman in the car beside us?” Rachel suddenly asked. Everyone
turned to look into the Rolls that was trying to overtake them, where there was a woman
wearing a black hat with a dramatic black veil draped over her face.
“Looks like Marlene Dietrich,” Philip chuckled as he drove.
“Aiyah, Philip! Pay attention to the road!” Eleanor yelled. “Actually, it does look like
Marlene Dietrich. I wonder which sultan’s wife that could be?”
Peering over, Nick laughed. “That’s no sultana. That’s Fiona Tung behind that getup.”
—
In the backseat of the Rolls-Royce Phantom—the only Rolls in the stately procession of
cars—Fiona fidgeted with her hat uncomfortably. “I don’t know why you made me wear
this ridiculous veil. I can’t see out of it, and I can hardly breathe.”
Eddie snorted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Kalliste can breathe just fine in
hers, can’t you?”
Eddie’s tween daughter was wearing a hat and veil identical to her mother’s, and she
stared straight ahead, not answering her father.
“Kalliste, I SAID: CAN YOU BREATHE?”
“She’s got headphones on, Dad. She can’t see or hear a thing. She’s like Helen Keller
right now,” Augustine said.
“At least Helen Keller could speak!” Eddie said in annoyance.
“Um, actually, she couldn’t, Pa. She was mute,” Constantine responded from the front
passenger seat. Eddie reached over and tugged his daughter’s veil aside. “Get those