by Gloria Chao
As I looked at a porcelain vase painted with images of children playing, it dawned on me that the name Jing-Jing bothered me because the repetition was a practice done with little kids, and I wanted to outgrow it and how my parents treated me. When they were ready, I’d ask them to drop one Jing.
I had my own moments with the art, but I also couldn’t stop watching Drew as he took everything in with a reverent silence. I gestured to the hanging scroll in front of us, a stunning landscape of trees, mountains, and clouds inked with thin, rounded strokes thousands of years ago. Then I pointed toward the contemporary section we’d just come from. “Your work is so unique, blending Chinese techniques with American landscapes, but I think what makes it the most special is the je ne sais quoi you bring to it. Your perspective, your creativity, your—”
“Pain,” he finished, and I stopped, waiting to hear more. A second later he said, “Sometimes I wonder if there was a silver lining in my wayward journey. I tapped into myself and had complete freedom with my work and found my voice, my style first.” His lips curved up in a small, reflective smile. Then he added, “Though it’s not a journey I’d recommend if there are any other alternative paths,” and we laughed together.
A few hours later, when it was time to head for the airport, parting from Drew felt both difficult and easy—difficult because I didn’t want to be away from the person who brought so much light and comfort into my life, and easy because I knew where we stood. Where I stood both with and without him.
For the first time, I didn’t feel like I was changing skins as I left California and returned to Chicago. There was just one skin now: a Chinese-American one that deserved to be wanted and was wanted. By herself. As is.
March 1, 1:42 p.m. PST
Watching you fight for what you want, trying to find balance and not just give up…
You inspire me
♥
I’ve been thinking about Jordan a lot
I wrote him a really long email
But I haven’t sent it yet
He may have been young when everything happened but he’s old enough to make his own decisions now
Send it when you’re ready
I think I’m ready now
I just… needed you to know first
I’m in your corner
I’ve got the stool and water bottle ready to go
Now I just need my Rocky montage
I’m not running up all those steps with you but I’ll cheer you on
Haha ok
Thanks for having my back
Always
SPRING BREAK
Chloe CHAPTER 69
SCAMPERING MOUSE
March 21
My mother didn’t talk to me for a month.
To be fair, I didn’t talk to her for a month either. I think she was still too upset at how I had thrown our miànzi in the toilet over and over again, and I was too angry that our reputation was all she cared about.
But, as usual, I was going to be the bigger person. So the week before my late-March spring break, I started calling, leaving voicemails, sending a few texts. She didn’t return any of them, but I knew they were chipping away at her defenses, because by the day I left Chicago, she’d stopped sending my phone calls straight to voicemail.
When I arrived home, Drew and my father were waiting for me in the living room, my father on the couch and Drew on the armchair. I dropped my bag and ran and hugged my dad, then kissed Drew. My father didn’t smile, but he didn’t look upset, either.
“Welcome home, Jing,” my dad said, and I beamed at the single-syllable sound of my name, which was still fairly new. Then he joked, “And to think I was so worried about Drew living in the dorms with you when you’ve been thousands of miles apart.”
I didn’t tell him about all the canoodling we did when Drew visited Chicago, which he’d done again in the past month. I also didn’t tell him that Drew was looking into moving out there to be closer to me. The plan was for him to transition into training new operatives at the Chicago branch. And the two of us were also working together with Rent for Your ’Rents to expand their operations. A month ago Drew had put me in touch with someone at corporate, as promised, and after a few conference calls, they’d offered us a chance to spearhead an expansion team together. They were excited about my ideas to increase the number of algorithms run, to present multiple options and probable outcomes to potential clients, and to hire company therapists for client counseling or, if all parties were willing, family counseling.
“Have you been playing nice?” I asked my father, wondering how long Drew had been there. I took a seat on the couch beside my dad.
Drew gave me a one-second, wide-eyed look, and I simultaneously wanted to laugh, shield him, and run away.
My father and I had kept in intermittent touch, mainly through email, and mainly about his health—which was obviously huge progress, but our curt two-liners left much to be desired. I was guilty too, but I couldn’t bring myself to write essays back to his minimalist updates.
“I was just asking Drew if he can actually make money with the art thing,” my father said with a shrug.
“Bǎbá,” I chastised. My poor Drew. “What happened to believing I could take care of myself?” Or being less of a jerk?
“Ah, everything is more complicated than I used to think!” my father exclaimed. He was still coming to terms with his illness and apparently other things.
“That’s obviously the goal, to make money from the art,” Drew answered calmly. And kindly. “There are a lot of different ways to do that, and I’m happy to explore a wide range of them, including freelancing, teaching, and doing commercial work to support the more personal projects.”
“And the two of us have something in the works,” I added in an attempt to share more. “It combines our skills.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I registered movement from the kitchen. A little whale-tail-loving mouse scampering about eavesdropping, perhaps?
“What are you working on?” my father asked.
“We’re helping Rent for Your ’Rents make some changes,” Drew said. “I’m using my experience with the company and my art; Chloe is using her economics—”
“Yeah, and one of the ideas I came up with all on my own is to use a mahjong game as a ruse to interrogate people. They said it was the best idea they’ve ever heard in the whole history of the company,” I improvised.
My mother ran into the room. “That’s my idea, not yours!”
“Aha, I knew that would work!” I exclaimed, pointing a finger at her.
She was frozen for a second, then burst into laughter.
We were not in a healthy, communicative place, and we were dysfunctional AF, but we were going to move forward. I could already feel it. It was pretty messed up that we never really talked about everything we should, and no one seemed to fully understand the other’s side, but maybe we didn’t need it to be perfect for it to be good. I’d never known what “family” meant, because that word didn’t represent the same thing to me as it seemed to for others, but in that moment I finally understood that inexplicable underlying bond. That desire to move forward out of love, even when it wasn’t perfect. Even when there was still anger underneath. Anger that, I hoped, would fade in time.
TODAY
Drew CHAPTER 70
EPILOGUE
I can’t remember what life was like before Chloe. She’s been so momentous in my life that everything started over with her: the big bang. Oops. Pun not intended. Really.
After moving to Chicago, my days are now filled with laughter, love, and so many kisses I’m convinced the universe is trying to tell me sorry for what it put me through previously. When the weather cooperates, Chloe and I grab red-bean Popsicles and walk to the lake to watch the moon come up. Sometimes I bring my sketch pad. I miss Jason and Marshall, but I’m thrilled they’re officially living together without this third wheel. (And how co
ol is it that my old room is now an art studio for Jason?)
I’m slowly building a personal community of local artists as well as a small fan base through social media. I decided that pursuing more school wasn’t the right move for me at this time, and Chloe was wonderfully supportive and made it the small deal that it was.
As I chase my dream, I support myself by working for the corporate side of Rent for Your ’Rents. The newest offshoot, Our Two Cents on Your ’Rents, is thriving, most likely because it’s the brainchild of the most hardworking, passionate, and intelligent person I know. In addition to spearheading that, I’m also training new operatives. I tell them some rules are worth bending, especially ones that sort of rhyme (but only for the right kind of fish ball, of course).
Jordan and I are back on speaking terms, and before moving to the Midwest, I took a trip out to Berkeley to see him. It was a lot of him asking me about Chloe (and Rent for Your ’Rents), but we also had time to fill in the other blanks, reminisce, and joke about our parents in that way only siblings can. It had been so long I’d forgotten that was a thing.
And… I reached out to my parents. In a cowardly way, with a letter, but Chloe assures me it was the best choice given their preferences and our history. It was a way to make a move while respecting their space. A month later I’m still waiting for a response, but that’s okay. I have faith that one day it’ll be okay again, then good.
Chloe CHAPTER 71
EPILOGUE
The more days that pass, the more ridiculous I feel about how much time and money and energy I spent protecting my parents’ feelings at the expense of my own. Like, I hired a fake boyfriend? Who does that? And I needed that experience to learn the bumper-sticker slogan BE YOURSELF? Jesus, Chloe! Except that when I talk to potential Rent for Your ’Rents clients in my capacity as part-time director of Our Two Cents on Your ’Rents, it’s still like, Yup, yup, I totally get it. The first time I video-chatted with another client, we both ended up bawling on-screen. Now I at least hold it together somewhat—enough to offer some thoughts and give my testimonial, which does reopen a wound, but it’s becoming less painful each time.
My parents and I are… fine. They’re freaking out that Drew moved to Chicago, and I hear questions about “the sex” way too much, but I gave them the choice of what role to play in the life I chose, and they want to be involved. Maybe too involved, if we’re being honest, but that’s not the worst option.
My father is in remission, and he updates me on his health in phone calls and emails. My mother is still figuring out how many toes to dip in the water, but I know that her cringeworthy questions and mailings of whale tails stuck with No hanky panky! notes are her way of saying she cares. About the wrong things, but I want her to be herself too. She recently commented that she was relieved Drew’s family was actually in California and not Chicago so she could stop worrying about us staying in the Midwest after I graduate. Even though I’m not sure I want to move back in the future, I count it a temporary win that she wants me around.
I don’t spiral while falling asleep as often anymore—I’m usually busy co-designing sheep pajamas—but the few times I do and whimper out loud, a loving arm will reach out and embrace me, and I fall asleep immediately, hugging my string-cheese-shaped xiǎo zhěntóu.
Snippets from Chloe’s application
Q: Does your family have any superstitions?
A: Not that I know of.
Q: What would be the ideal gift to get your parents?
A: Anything, really. I guess something Chinese would be ideal? They love mooncakes, Taiwanese pineapple cakes, Asian fruits, that type of thing.
Q: What are some traditions they follow?
A: The Chinese zodiac and Eastern medicine are important to my mother. Not so much my father. Their house is feng-shuied, but they view that more as an interior-decorator kind of thing; they’re not religious about it. What they are religious about is religion, ha. See religion section for way too much info about our community.
My parents believe strongly in filial piety and in traditional roles like the eldest son taking care of the family. They’re big on upholding the family name and saving face.
They’re strict, so physical stuff shouldn’t go past like a hand graze or kiss on the head. My mom is especially big on “purity,” as she grossly says.
And we’re big on food. Everything revolves around food for us. Bring a big appetite! Oh, and warning: my mom’s cooking can sometimes be a little inventive. Okay, a lot inventive. It may not be the easiest to stomach. Her Chinese food is great, but hold your breath for the fusion food. You’ll know when you see it because it won’t look like anything else you’ve ever eaten.
Q: Anything else we should know?
A: If you can find a way to work in how economics is actually a prestigious, difficult major that my parents shouldn’t be complaining about, I’d be forever grateful. If you feel like you’re laying it on too thick, I promise you’re not; they are experts at not letting in nice comments about me or UChicago.
Sample of Rent for Your ’Rents Classification Chart
Greeting to parents
Showing affection to client in “private” moments
Showing affection to client in most settings
Showing affection to client in sad moment
Type A
Start with handshake; move to hug if the situation allows
Caresses to face, arm, hand
Kiss to the forehead or head in appropriate circumstances (see appendix for more)
Physical contact to hand, arm, face, small of back
Hug
Holding them close
Stroking their hair
Type B
Start with handshake, touch their elbow with other hand if situation allows
Hand grazes
Holding hands
Kiss to the hand or head when appropriate
Light physical contact to hand, arm, face, small of back in select moments
Hand squeeze
Quick hug in appropriate circumstances (see appendix for more)
Type C
Handshake, address as Ǎyí and Shǔshú
Meaningful eye contact
Shared smiles
Hand grazes when appropriate
Limit to very infrequent light physical contact, eye contact, smiles, and polite gestures like pulling out chair, dishing food out, etc.
Lean in
Place hand in close proximity
Show them using eye contact that you’re supporting them
Acknowledgments
If you had told 2013 dentist me to pursue the writing path because I’d have three published books by 2020, I wouldn’t have believed you. The journey thus far has been filled with wonderful, supportive people without whom none of this would be possible.
First, thank you to my readers. I write for you.
Kathleen Rushall: You are the best cheerleader, advisor, friend, and agent. Thank you for being you. Working with you is a privilege and comfort.
Jen Ung: There is something so special about our connection, and I’m grateful to have worked on this story with you. Even after three books, I still can’t believe how deeply you understand my characters, and working with you on this one especially was an honor. Thank you for your enthusiasm for this story.
Kim Yau: Thank you for your passion and hard work. I’m grateful to have a film agent who understands my characters as much as you do.
Simon Pulse: Thank you for being my publishing home and for trusting me with my out-of-the-box ideas, e.g., my college-age characters in this book and American Panda, my weaving a historical story into a contemporary narrative in Our Wayward Fate, et cetera. BFYR: I’m thrilled to join your family!
Laura Eckes: Thank you for the stunning cover! I still can’t get over how you managed to capture Chloe, Drew, and the feel of this book so perfectly! I love it so much I had it open on my computer as I edited.
Cassie Malmo: Thank you for bei
ng so on top of things and for all your hard work!
Special thanks to Mara Anastas, Liesa Abrams, Chriscynethia Floyd, Christina Pecorale, Lauren Hoffman, Caitlin Sweeny, Michelle Leo, Chelsea Morgan, Sara Berko, Karen Sherman, Tom Daly, Stacey Sakal, and Alison Velea.
Rachel Lynn Solomon: Thank you for cheering me on from the baby idea stage, for reading early pages, and for your friendship.
Thank you to my Chicago writing community: Stephanie Kate Strohm, Susan Blumberg-Kason, Samira Ahmed, Maddy Colis, Lizzie Cooke, Rena Barron, Kat Cho, Ronni Davis, Anna Waggener, Amelia Brunskill, Kimberly Gabriel, Michelle Falkoff, and Franny Billingsley.
Thank you to my friends and family who’ve supported me in this journey: Dan, Matt, Diana Fowler, Lexi Klimchak, Minnie Yang, and many more. Thank you, Abe Bueno de Mesquita, for always being my first teen reader! Brianna Wahl: Sorry for all the horrible Christmas cookies we made at my house in high school.
Thank you to booksellers, librarians, teachers, and bloggers for all that you do. I’m so grateful for the wonderful support you’ve so kindly shown me in my career.
Mom and Dad: I love you. Thank you for your love and support. And thank you for answering my endless questions and verifying so many things in my books. Dad, I loved laughing with you about the translations in this one. Mom, calling you to talk about Chinese culture, your stories, random Mandarin idioms (and other things not book-related) is a highlight of my day. I’m grateful for how close we’ve become thanks to these books.
Anthony: I dedicate each book to you because you’re my biggest supporter. I don’t know any other spouse willing to read every draft like you do, and you brainstorm with me so much I can’t remember which ideas are whose. Thank you for living and breathing my books with me. Thank you for this life that’s better than I could have dreamed. I love you more than three suns’ worth.