During dinner, the senator leaned over. “I have to ask, Dr. Chin. Your family seems surprised by your presence.”
“We’re not very close,” I said carefully.
He studied me for a moment. “I see. Well, their loss is our gain. I meant what I said about wanting to meet with you. I’m working on health-care legislation, specifically regarding pediatric cardiac care accessibility. I’d love your input.”
“I’d be happy to help, Senator.”
“Please call me Richard.”
At 8:30 p.m., as the reception was in full swing, my mother finally cornered me near the dessert table.
“Emily, please. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“About everything. About what your father said. About the wedding. About…” She gestured helplessly. “All of this.”
“What do you want me to say, Mom?”
“I want you to forgive us,” she said, tears running down her face. “We made a terrible mistake. We didn’t know.”
“You didn’t want to know,” I interrupted. “I tried to tell you. At that dinner, I told you I was a cardiac surgeon. Dad said I was exaggerating. You laughed.”
“We didn’t understand.”
“You didn’t care to understand. I wasn’t good enough for Sarah’s wedding because I didn’t fit your image. Because I drove an old car and lived in Queens. You judged me based on appearances, not on who I actually am.”
“We’re sorry,” she sobbed.
“Are you sorry for what you did, or are you sorry that you were wrong?”
She didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought,” I said.
My father appeared then, his face drawn.
“Emily, your mother’s right. We made a mistake. A terrible mistake. But you have to understand—”
“I don’t have to understand anything,” I said. “You called me worthless in front of the entire family. You said I would embarrass Sarah. You uninvited me from my own sister’s wedding because you were ashamed of me.”
“We didn’t know you were successful,” he said desperately.
“Would it have mattered if I wasn’t?” I asked. “If I was just a regular doctor making a regular salary, living a regular life, would that make me worthless? Would that justify excluding me?”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“You taught me that my value as a person depends on what I achieve, how much money I make, who I know. You taught me that love is conditional, that family is conditional.”
I paused.
“Well, congratulations. I learned the lesson.”
“Emily, please—”
“I need to go,” I said. “I have a patient to check on.”
I walked away from them through the reception, past the dancing guests and the elaborate flower arrangements and the ice sculpture in the shape of two swans. I found Catherine and thanked her for her hospitality. I congratulated Marcus and Sarah, who barely managed to speak to me. Then I left.
I drove back to Mount Sinai and checked on Charlie. He was awake, groggy but stable. His parents were there, exhausted but grateful.
“How are you feeling, buddy?” I asked Charlie.
He gave me a weak thumbs-up.
“You’re a tough kid,” I said. “You’re going to be just fine.”