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Make a Circle

Page 2

by Elliot Joyce


  “Dad,” Oliver interrupted, looking like he was regretting several life choices. Lucas realized he had just been standing there and did his best to smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Han.”

  “No, no, no, call me Eric. Or Dad! Ahaha, that’s what Alice’s fiancé calls me,” Eric said. Lucas had no intention of calling him “Dad” short of a gun to the temple.

  “Jeffrey does not call you Dad,” Daphne chided. She crossed her arms and shook her head, but her gaze was fond as she looked at her husband. “Oliver, do you need help carrying your things to your room? We haven’t moved anything—I think your bed should be big enough, but if it isn’t we can take the couch cushions? Yun needs the air mattress—”

  “I think we’re good, Mom,” Oliver said. He grabbed his suitcases, gave Lucas a look, and forced a smile. It looked like he was being asked to perform a root canal on his grandfather. Hell, Lucas was pretty sure Oliver would have rather done that than endure another five minutes with his parents.

  “Well, just let us know what you want to eat for dinner!” Daphne called up as Oliver almost sprinted up the stairs. Lucas gave Oliver’s parents a smile before following his boyfriend.

  It wasn’t hard to follow Oliver to his room—it was the closest to the stairs and Oliver was busy throwing his suitcase open and digging through it. He didn’t look up as Lucas closed the door and then set his bags aside.

  The room was messy, unlike the rest of the house. Lucas saw a stack of old comic books in a bin labeled Fifth Grade Projects, and posters were tacked to every available wall. They ranged from ones advertising Chinese movies—Lucas didn’t recognize any of the actors, but he was never a fan of the action genre—to a full spread of comic book heroes. Lucas smiled to himself when he saw that Captain America hung above the queen-sized bed. Throughout the room, the majority of the posters were of guys.

  “And you told me your parents were surprised when you came out as trans,” Lucas said, pulling the desk chair out and sitting. The center of the desk had been cleared off many times, and stacks of old notebooks and papers took up the sides. Lucas glanced at them. It really seemed like Oliver’s parents hadn’t been lying when they said they hadn’t moved anything. There were assignments from high school still waiting to be thrown out or turned in.

  Lucas stopped looking when he realized some of them had Oliver’s old name—it felt like an invasion of privacy and violation of trust.

  “Huh? Did you say something?” Oliver asked as he turned around. He was holding on to his shampoo and conditioner, apparently serious about taking a shower.

  “Nah, just—” Lucas motioned around the room. “—I didn’t expect so many big, muscular men. Should I be concerned?”

  Fortunately, the comment made Oliver laugh. He shook his head, glancing at Captain America before looking back at Lucas. “It was a phase. Superheroes—they could do anything. Beat anything. And Captain America was the best. Small and skinny until a magical serum made him big and strong.” Oliver shrugged. “And yeah, he was pretty hot.”

  “I do look good with blond hair,” Lucas said.

  “I like your hair red,” Oliver replied. He sighed and threw his things on his bed. “I’m sorry if I’m out of it. It’s really—really weird being here. And my parents are…. They really are trying hard. It’s weird. I keep saying that, sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s fine, Oliver. You said that your parents could be a lot, but it’s just them missing you.” Lucas stood and hugged him, planting over-the-top kisses on his face. “I—” Kiss. “—think—” Kiss. “—it’s—” Kiss. “—cute.” Lucas leaned back, arms still wrapped around Oliver. “They care about you a lot. I think I can deal with their enthusiasm. Better than them hating me.”

  Oliver, who was flushed from embarrassment, tilted his head and frowned. “Why would they hate you?”

  Lucas hesitated, not sure how to explain it, when a knock on the door threw him out of his thoughts entirely.

  “Just so you two know, your father—Eric and I are ordering pizza. And Alice said that their flight is running late, so we have a bit of time before she gets here with her fiancé, but don’t take too long settling in! We want to talk to our son,” Daphne called in.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Oliver shouted back.

  “Do you need anything? There are fresh towels in the bathroom and there should be plenty of toilet paper, but if you need more—”

  “We’re fine, Mom!”

  “Okay, well, just call for me or your father if you need something.”

  The two of them were quiet as Daphne’s footsteps faded down the stairs. Oliver let out a heavy sigh, and he pulled out of Lucas’s arms. Lucas pouted, but Oliver didn’t even look at him as he grabbed his shower stuff and a change of clothes.

  “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to just chill—nothing here’s secret.” Oliver glanced at the stacks of paper. “Maybe my old English essays. I was a pretty wannabe nihilistic teenager.”

  “I’m the bass player for a garage punk band, Ollie. I don’t think you ever want to see what my high school room looked like,” Lucas replied. Oliver smiled faintly. The effort of driving and then being thrust back home was visible in his eyes—he looked like he was going to start twitching any second. “Go take a shower. Try to avoid drowning yourself. If I have to sit through this without you, I’m never forgiving you.”

  Oliver gave him a salute before going to the bathroom, leaving Lucas to sit and wonder what the hell he was supposed to do now.

  ALICE AND her fiancé, Jeffrey, finally arrived three hours after Lucas and Oliver. She had long black hair that had the ends faded into brown, Oliver’s eyes, and the same nose as her father. She also was the tallest member of the family—though considering Lucas had only met three others, that wasn’t saying much—and wore heels, though she practically ripped them off her feet at the door.

  Jeffrey was about her height, had a thick black beard and green eyes, and stared at Lucas’s hair when they shook hands. Alice was much warmer and quickly explained that Jeffrey was self-conscious about his English, but was fluent in Mandarin, French, and German if Lucas happened to speak any of those languages.

  Considering Lucas had slept through most of Spanish and crawled through English with a solid C average, it probably was impressive that he could still say where is the bathroom in both languages.

  “We met when we were in grad school—he was studying bioengineering and I was the TA for a genetics class, and the teacher didn’t know a word of Mandarin. So we got to talking and now we’re engaged,” Alice said over wine and warmed-up pizza.

  “Congrats on that,” Lucas replied, not sure what else he could say. “I’m sure your English is better than my Mandarin,” he told Jeffrey.

  “Maybe. I studied at UCLA for three years, and it still confuses me,” Jeffrey said in accented, but otherwise perfectly fine English. Lucas supposed that it was fair if he wasn’t confident in himself, but if Lucas had been able to speak Mandarin like that, he would have bragged about it all day.

  “How was your flight, honey?” Daphne asked Alice. The two started talking about airplanes and flight attendants and how some people shouldn’t travel with kids, which then prompted a conversation about which family members were traveling through air and which were going by land.

  Lucas made a joke about one if by land, two if by sea, but only Oliver chuckled, and that was about when Lucas decided to keep his mouth shut. It didn’t seem like it mattered—Jeffrey started talking to Eric in Mandarin, and then Lucas was well and truly shut out of the conversations.

  Fortunately, an eight-hour drive was good for something—mainly having a good reason to go to sleep early—so Oliver and Lucas bowed out of the conversation around 10:00 p.m. Cuddling in Oliver’s bed, Lucas was a little surprised when Oliver started kissing him and snuck his hands up Lucas’s shirt.

  “Not like you aren’t the best and most attractive person I’ve ever met, but really? Your parents
are, like, three rooms down,” Lucas pointed out.

  Oliver snorted and withdrew his hands. “I’m cold, not horny, you dog.” He stuck his feet between Lucas’s, and Lucas yelped. Oliver was cold. “And I can kiss my boyfriend without having outside motivation.” A few more kisses against Lucas’s jaw. “Also you’re a suck-up and I can’t believe you made me hold the conversation tonight.”

  “They seemed fine talking by themselves,” Lucas protested.

  “My mom and sister, maybe. My dad and Jeffrey started talking about doctor stuff. Doctor stuff. I avoided med school for a reason, Lucas,” Oliver complained. Lucas rolled his eyes and kissed Oliver back.

  “I promise to be more chatty tomorrow, okay?”

  “You better. The rest of my relatives are showing up tomorrow, and if I have to talk to all of them while you sit there and look pretty, you can walk back to Los Angeles.”

  LUCAS WAS strongly considering the merit of walking back to Los Angeles. It was fine when cousin Daniel and his brother showed up, the two of them looking like Asian versions of every jock Lucas had been bullied by in high school. Mikey was married with two kids, who instantly started running through the house to the delight of Daphne and about no one else. Grandma Bai had to be escorted in by her kids, who as far as Lucas could tell were Oliver’s uncles.

  Overall, soon the house was bustling with people, and Lucas had no idea what to do. Daphne, Alice, and several other women were meandering around the kitchen. He had no idea why—everyone had come with at least one dish, if not more, and the dining room table looked like it would break if a single more dish was set on it. The front door was practically barricaded by shoes. Someone had a dog, who was now running around in the backyard with the kids. Oliver had been dragged away to talk to someone, and Lucas didn’t feel like jumping back in the throng of people just to try to find him—besides, a cursory glance made it clear he wasn’t even in the living room.

  Instead, Lucas sat himself in the front room in an armchair facing the Christmas tree, probably as far from the main action as he could get. Still, he wasn’t really hiding, and he could only smile politely as a woman sat on the couch across from him. Lucas prayed to the gods that he hadn’t been introduced to her and forgotten her name. He was good with faces, but this was… more than he had expected.

  She said something in Mandarin. Lucas stared at her in confusion.

  “Sorry—habit.” She waved a hand in the air. “You must be Li—Oliver’s boyfriend. I’m Sammy, his cousin.” Sammy looked a bit older, and there was a wedding ring on her hand. She had a necklace with a small jade circle through the string, and a loose red cardigan on over a nice shirt. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same.” Lucas heard someone shout and then the breaking of glass. He winced but the chatter didn’t cease, though he could make out Daphne shouting in Mandarin. From his seat, he could see her chide a younger woman, but she didn’t seem really mad. Someone else was already fetching a broom to clean up the mess. “Is it always like this?” Lucas asked before he could stop himself.

  “Yes. It was worse before Bao Bao moved back to China—he always liked to drink first, eat later, and he was never very likable. I feel bad for his wife, though; she was nice.” Sammy shrugged and leaned back. “So how long did it take for Oliver to convince you to come to this, and how many relatives did he tell you he had?”

  “I’m excited to be here,” Lucas said, though he was mostly trying to convince himself. Sammy raised an eyebrow. “Okay, it’s overwhelming and I don’t know what anyone is saying, but it’s not—it’s not bad. My family is just as noisy for holidays.”

  “Uh-huh. Have you ever had tangyuan?” It took Lucas a moment to realize she was changing the subject.

  “No, but Oliver told me about it. Apparently it’s a big deal to make nice ones?”

  Sammy laughed. “Maybe. Oliver’s mother is very serious about her cooking—Yaya, my gran and her mother, instilled that in her.”

  “Yaya? I haven’t met her.” Lucas knew that much. There was only one grandma, and she was sitting out back playing mahjong last time Lucas saw her.

  “Hopefully you won’t ever meet her. She’s dead—died three years ago from a heart attack.” Sammy said it the way some people would describe the weather.

  “Oh. Sorry,” Lucas replied, not sure what else he could say.

  “Don’t worry about it. She lived to the ripe old age of ninety-seven. I don’t think anyone was all that surprised.” Sammy looked up as a kid ran over, chattering in a strange mix of Mandarin and English. “English or Chinese?” Sammy asked her—Lucas assumed—girl.

  “Mama, Po won’t share the ball!” The girl whined. She had dirt on her knees and grass on her clothes, which would definitely leave stains. Sammy shook her head.

  “Well, go tell Po that he has to share the ball, and if he won’t, go tell your papa,” Sammy told her. The girl nodded and dashed away, shouting about how she was right and she knew her mama was on her side. “Sorry. My kids are still learning how to share,” Sammy explained. Lucas shrugged. He didn’t mind kids, but he didn’t like them much either. “Are you and Li-Li thinking about kids?”

  “What—no. No. Definitely not.” Lucas stumbled over his words, eyes wide. “We—we haven’t even talked about marriage. We only moved in together three months ago. No. And—Oliver. He goes by Oliver.”

  “Oh, right.” Sammy waved her hand again. Her nails had small flowers painted on them. Lucas absentmindedly wondered if they were always like that. “We never see Oliver anymore. My dad likes to complain about it. But no one actually cares except for his parents. They always were fussy.”

  Lucas realized that he hadn’t actually seen his boyfriend in a while and glanced around. The wall blocked his view of the living room entirely, so he stood and apologized to Sammy, but told her he needed to find Oliver. She seemed to understand and remained there, staring out the window while Lucas went looking.

  Oliver was outside, roped into the mahjong game. Lucas couldn’t tell if he was winning or losing, but he was talking in slow, careful Mandarin to Grandma Bai, so things couldn’t be that bad.

  The table looked up as Lucas walked over. Grandma Bai said something, and everyone but Oliver laughed. Oliver looked like he had just taken a bite out of a lemon, and Lucas faltered in his steps. Maybe he should wait inside, give Oliver space….

  Grandma Bai—and Lucas was starting to think of her as Grandbai, but he was pretty sure that was disrespectful—said something, and one of the men replied with a laugh.

  “She wants you to join us, but Yun pointed out that there are no more chairs,” Oliver translated. He fidgeted with one of the tiles, sliding it back and forth on the glass table. “Is everything okay? Does my mom need help?” Oliver asked.

  “No, I just wanted to see what you were up to.” Lucas hesitated but figured that Oliver knew better than him. “Can we share a chair, or is that going to upset your grandma?”

  “Share a chair, you two!” Yun said, laughing. He had a big potbelly and an impressive amount of facial hair that reminded Lucas vaguely of old Civil War pictures, where the men had bushy sideburns and weren’t afraid to show them off. “My mother might be old, but she isn’t so old to be shocked seeing her grandkid in a relationship.”

  Lucas waited until Oliver nodded to sit down, splitting the chair with him. Oliver rolled his eyes, half standing and letting Lucas sit fully on the chair before using Lucas as his seat. Instinctively, Lucas wrapped his arms around Oliver only to stop when Oliver went tense. Grandbai—and gods did Lucas hope he didn’t say that aloud ever—said something, and Oliver replied.

  “My mother thinks your hair is natural,” Yun translated. His English was good, though more accented than most of the family. “Lily—Lien—Oliver, sorry, you must forgive an old man and his forgetful mind.” Yun sounded apologetic but continued before Oliver could respond. “Oliver is explaining to her that you dye it.” He squinted at Lucas’s hair. “The red is a bit bright. It m
ust help people find you, though!” He laughed at his own joke.

  Oliver’s other relative, who Lucas thought was Uncle Zhao, shook his head. “Ignore my brother. He thinks he is funny, but even a broken watch is true twice.” Zhao extended a hand. It was wrinkled many times over, but his grip was still strong, and his eyes shined. “It is good to meet my nephew’s partner. We were all thinking we’d die before she brought anyone home!”

  “Uncle,” Oliver protested, face pink. Lucas kissed the side of his cheek to reassure him that it was okay, though personally Lucas wanted to scream at everyone for misgendering Oliver. There was no mistaking Oliver for a woman—he had to shave his face every day for crying out loud! But at least no one seemed to be doing it maliciously. If they had, Lucas wasn’t sure he could keep himself under control.

  “What do you do?” Zhao asked as Yun considered the mahjong game, apparently remembering that it existed.

  “I’m in a band,” Lucas said. “I play the bass.”

  Oliver said something in Mandarin, and Grandbai nodded, replying in kind. The two had a short conversation that Yun and Zhao even listened to, leaving Lucas to try to figure out what the different pictures on the tiles were. He decided he liked the green and blue dragons, but he didn’t quite understand what the different number of flowers were for.

  “When did you start playing?” Oliver asked, switching to English.

  “What?”

  “The bass. When did you start playing?”

  Lucas realized they had been talking about him and instantly felt bad for tuning out, only to remember that it didn’t matter anyway. I need to learn more Mandarin for next year, Lucas thought. If they invite me back next year. “Uh, I started bass when I was twelve but guitar when I was ten. And my mom tried signing me up for piano when I was eight, but all I did was bang on the keys, so she gave up.”

  Oliver relayed this to Grandbai, who laughed. It was a bit of a wheeze, but she waved off Yun’s attempts to pat her on the back. Like Oliver, she closed her eyes when she laughed. Finally she controlled herself and said something, to which Yun and Zhao laughed.

 

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