by Jackie Lau
My heart is thumping wildly. What she says next seems of vital importance.
“I’m glad we’re seeing each other, and not just because my hormones are out of control and you’re providing me with sex. Though you do a pretty bang-up job of that.” She absently runs her hand over my chest. “I know I was doubtful at the beginning, but I believe in your commitment now. I trust you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice a bit rough.
Several months ago, I never would have imagined that a woman saying I trust you would mean so much to me, but it does.
“And I can see you devote yourself to one thing at a time. You did nothing but work for years, and then you did nothing but cultivate your playboy image. Now, I worry you’re counting on me and the baby to be your whole life. Like we’re supposed to save you and define who you are. Which is not what I worried about before, but I do now. Yes, I know this baby is going to consume my life for a while, but other things are important to me, too. Like my job. Like watching The Great British Bake Off while enjoying a glass of wine and a slice of cheesecake.”
“And I will take Baby for a nice long walk so you can have your time alone. I know that’s important.”
“Yeah, and I believe you.” She pauses. “I’m not going to tell you to do the kind of work you used to do, but I just feel like you need more.”
“I’ll still see my friends on occasion, and I have the rest of my family.”
“But from what I know of you, you need something else. Are you involved in your father’s Toronto Chinese Canadian Center?”
“I give some money, but that’s all. It’s important work, but it’s not really my thing. As you might have been able to tell, I have a rather uncomfortable relationship with the Chinese community here. I feel a little removed from it.”
“Does that bother you?”
“On occasion.”
It’s strange to have a serious talk about my life with someone. Most of the conversations I have are not at all serious. Kidding around. I can do that with Marissa, too, but I appreciate this.
“Maybe you could think about changing that,” she says. “Though I understand how you’re quite far from the immigrant experience, and that’s a lot of the focus of your family’s organization. If you hated being Asian, I’d say you need to work on changing your attitude, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I’m not sure what you should do, but you’re clearly intelligent and I think you’ll be happiest if you find another outlet. You’re lucky. You don’t need money, and you have the time and resources to do whatever you want.”
But how am I supposed to know what else I want?
“You and Baby are the most important things to me.” I take her hand.
“That’s fine,” she says. “It doesn’t need to be anything big. Though I think it would be good if you could give back. Just the thought of me and the baby being your whole life, well, it’s a lot of pressure, you know?”
I nod.
She gives me a smile and turns over so her back is against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and feel content yet a little on edge at the same time.
“You thought you’d come to love me,” she says, and I think she purposely didn’t want to see my face for this. “Have you?”
“Yes.”
I hold her close and kiss her neck. I do love her, and I admire the way she’s level-headed and balanced, things that no one ever says about me. She’s got the “normal” life that I never really imagined having, but now, it has an appeal I didn’t understand before.
I wait for her to say she loves me, too, but she doesn’t.
She cares for me and trusts me and takes me seriously, though...and that’s a lot more than before. She also enjoys having me in her bed again.
It bugs me that she can’t say it back, but I have hope that will soon change.
Chapter 21
Marissa
The following Sunday, Vince picks me up at five to take me to his parents’ for dinner.
I’m wearing a dress, which had not been my initial plan, but the pants I’d planned to wear aren’t very comfortable now. So, dress it is.
His parents live near the Bridle Path. We pull up to a brick house that isn’t as grand as the newer gray stone homes flanking it on either side, but it’s still a million miles from the apartment in Scarborough where I spent my childhood.
“This is where you grew up?” I ask Vince as he pulls into the driveway.
“We moved here when I was two or three, yeah.”
There are three garage doors—three!—landscaped gardens, and a large tree in the front yard. The branches are bare now, but soon, it’ll be covered in green leaves.
“I’m nervous.” I hadn’t meant to tell him that, but there it is.
“Don’t worry. They’ll love you.” Vince smiles at me. “You’re very lovable.”
“That’s because you know what’s under this dress.”
“And I hope to enjoy it again tonight.” He waggles his eyebrows then leans across the console and puts his hand on my stomach. “Hi, Baby. It’s time to visit your father’s family! They’re very excited to meet you.”
Oh, man. This guy.
I always wanted the Fongs to be a part of my child’s life, but I didn’t think I’d see them often. But now, I’m starting to wonder if Vince will play another role in my life other than the father of my child, and that’s partly why I’m nervous.
I’ve met a boyfriend’s parents before, and I can handle that. This situation is a little different, though, because I’m pregnant and everyone knows it. Also, it must be more than a decade since he’s brought a woman to meet his family.
Interesting that I’ve started thinking of Vince as my boyfriend.
“I should probably mention something.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Shit, I should have mentioned it earlier.”
I immediately stiffen. “What?”
“My father is suspicious of you.”
“I thought you said everyone would love me.”
“I mean, I think so, but he’s the one I’m not sure about. He visited me a couple weeks ago and said he was worried you tampered with our birth control and were after my money or...something like that.” Vince winces. “He also asked if we’d had a paternity test.”
“If you want one,” I say, gripping the strap of my purse, “I’m happy to do so, though I’m not sure when it can be done in vitro.”
“No, you don’t have to. I trust you. I know you never would have done that to me.”
I understand how this must look to his father, but I can’t help feeling annoyed.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I wish I’d been prepared for this, though I appreciate Vince’s faith in me.
“I was hoping Dad would change his mind, but he didn’t, and then I forgot until today. I now think he has to meet you before he’ll change his mind.”
When we get out of the car, Vince squeezes my hand, and we walk up the path to the double front doors. He steps inside without knocking.
“We’re here!” he shouts as he takes off his shoes.
I don’t see anyone, but from somewhere in the house, I hear, “No, Evie!” and laughter.
A minute later, a man walks into the front hall. It must be one of Vince’s brothers, but they don’t look much alike, and this man’s default expression seems more serious than Vince’s.
“You must be Marissa,” he says. “I’m Julian. Nice to meet you.”
We shake hands.
“We’re all in the front room.” He jerks his thumb to the right. “Evie just crawled for the first time, then tried to grab my beer.”
“Oh, did she?” Vince laughs and turns to me. “Julian likes old man beer.”
Julian merely gives him a look.
Vince leads me into a room where several people are seated on couches and on the floor. Everyone is staring at the baby.
“Come on, Evie,” says a young woman. “Show Uncle Vince how you can crawl.”
“I know what she needs,” says a man—Vince’s other brother, I assume. I think his name is Cedric. He places a bottle of Labatt 50 a few feet away from Evie.
Evie crawls toward it.
Everyone laughs.
An elderly woman gets up from an armchair and hobbles toward me. “I am Vince’s po po.” She places her hand on my stomach.
I’m sure this will happen more often as I get bigger, but the idea of people I hardly know touching my stomach is uncomfortable.
“Po Po!” Vince says. “Only I get to touch Marissa like that.”
“Are you together now?” Po Po addresses this question to me.
“Yes,” I say.
“Ah, you are going to get married! I knew it would be this way.”
“We’re not getting married yet,” Vince says.
“But you are engaged?”
“No, we aren’t engaged. Just dating.”
“She’s already pregnant, though.” Po Po turns back to me. “You are giving me another great-grandchild and I am very happy about that. Hopefully this one will not have a taste for beer. Not that we are letting Evie drink it, but she is fascinated by the bottle.”
I locate Vince’s parents on the couch by the window. His dad seems to be watching me intently...or maybe that’s my imagination. I head over to introduce myself, and they ask how I’m feeling.
I don’t mention my constant urge to jump their son.
Vince leads me to a loveseat. He picks up Evie and sits next to me with her on his lap.
“This is Auntie Marissa,” he says, and I smile at his use of “auntie.” Evie’s hand is curled into a little fist. “You want to give her a fist bump? Okay.” He lifts her fist in my direction, and I bump it with my own. “Remember when I said you’re getting a new cousin? Marissa is your new cousin’s mother.”
Evie smiles as though she understands everything. She has two teeth.
I have to admit, I’m moved by Vince’s ease with the baby.
Julian brings over a plush Pusheen toy. “This is from Uncle Vince, right, Evie?”
Evie grabs it eagerly and babbles.
“That’s right, you play with Pusheen, not my beer.”
I feel like Julian is making a point of showing me that Vince cares for his niece, and I’m touched his family wants to make me think well of him.
Aside from his father, perhaps.
At the same time, as I look at Evie, I feel a little overwhelmed. Not that I haven’t been around babies in the past few years—I have. My friends’ children, for example. But this is the first time I’ve spent time with a baby since getting pregnant.
Soon, I’ll have a baby of my own. I’ll nurse her, change her diapers, comfort her when she cries, and give her baths... Or maybe it’ll be a boy.
What on earth made me think I could do this?
But then Vince clasps my shoulder and gives me a smile. We’re in this together. That makes me feel better.
And Evie giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound.
“I’m Courtney, Vince’s sister-in-law,” says the woman sitting on the couch next to ours. She leans over, and we laugh when I’m just barely able to shake her hand without getting up from the loveseat. “Are you scared about being a mom for the first time?”
“A little,” I admit.
“You can ask me questions anytime,” she says, and I thank her.
“Where did you and Vince meet?” Julian asks.
“At a party.” Or am I supposed to lie about that? I don’t know.
“Of course you did. It’s Vince, after all.”
“Hey!” Vince says. “You met Courtney at a coffee shop—”
“Exactly. Not one of these wild parties you seem to fancy.”
“—and offered her five thousand dollars to live at your place for two weeks and teach you how to have fun.”
I bark out a laugh.
Then I realize nobody else is laughing and Vince is serious.
He turns to me. “She convinced him to do shocking things like read on the balcony in the middle of the day with a beer.”
“You got that phallic cactus, too,” Cedric says.
“I looked up what this ‘phallic’ word means.” Po Po sniffs. “I do not approve.”
“Don’t worry,” Vince says. “Joey is not very phallic anymore. His, uh, balls have gotten quite big and he’s not as erect.”
“Maybe we should talk about something else,” Vince’s mom says, “so Marissa doesn’t think we’re too weird.”
Evie squawks loudly.
“Yes, you must be careful,” Po Po says, “or Evie’s first word will be ‘phallic cactus.’”
“That’s two words,” Julian mutters.
“You know what I mean! It is bad language for a child, and they always copy the worst things they hear.”
“Like how Vince’s first two-word phrase was ‘fucking asshole.’” His mom turns to her husband. “Thanks to your road rage.”
“It set the tone for the rest of Vince’s life,” Cedric says, and Vince gets up to swat his brother. Cedric allows this, but then steals Pusheen.
Evie immediately starts wailing.
“Guess what I found in the basement the other day?” Vince’s mom says. “General Bloopy.” She holds up a rather sad-looking purple dinosaur.
“General Bloopy the Second,” Vince says morosely. “I can’t believe you lied.”
“Not my fault you couldn’t tell the difference.” She holds the dinosaur toward the loveseat. Vince grabs it and hands it to Evie.
She isn’t comforted.
“See?” Vince says. “She knows he’s a fraud!”
“Come here, love.” Courtney picks up her daughter and snuggles her. “It’s okay. Mama will get your Pusheen back from Mean Uncle Cedric.”
“I’m not mean!” Cedric protests, and Vince snorts.
My attention is ping-ponging between all the members of Vince’s family, trying to follow the conversation, the affectionate teasing.
“Do you have much family here?” Vince’s mom asks.
I shake my head. “Just my mother, plus her husband and his family.”
“So you have a stepfather?” Po Po asks.
“I don’t think of him as my stepfather. I didn’t meet him until I was in my late twenties.”
“What about your father?”
Vince gives his grandmother a look.
“He’s dead.”
Always a great conversation killer. Ever since I was little.
I glance at Vince’s father. What would it be like to have Charles Fong as a dad?
This is the family I yearned for as a child. At Christmas, most of the other kids would have family to visit—grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins—or siblings to play with.
But not me.
When I was four, I told my mom I wanted a sister for Christmas, and I still remember the uncomfortable silence, the way her lip trembled. I gave her a hug because clearly I had upset her—not that I understood why—and it seemed like the right thing to do.
Now I know that having a big family doesn’t mean you’ll have good relationships with them, doesn’t mean they’re people you can count on.
But I like Vince’s family so far.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He’s grabbing Pusheen back from Cedric when a middle-aged woman appears at the door to the room.
“Dinner is ready,” she says.
Okay, this family is a little different from the one I imagined as a kid.
They have a chef.
Chapter 22
Marissa
At dinner, Julian and Charles ask about my job, and I’m pleased to talk about something other than my pregnancy. I don’t say, I’m not planning to live on Vince’s money, but I emphasize that I expect to return to work after a year.
I understand his father’s protectiveness, I do. I can’t help wishing I had a father to
feel protective about me. From what I know about my father, he wouldn’t have gone overboard, and that’s good. He wouldn’t have threatened a boy for daring to so much as look at me.
But I can’t be sure.
How can I miss my dad when I don’t remember him? When this is the life I’ve always known?
I didn’t have a bad childhood. I had a great mom. She wasn’t around as much as she wanted to be, but I always knew she loved me.
If Vince and I have a girl, what will he be like when she’s a teenager? Will he freak out if a boy touches her shoulder? Would he worry about boys treating her the way he’s treated girls?
But Vince was nice and respectful to me when I was a two-night stand.
God, I shouldn’t be thinking about this now. I should be enjoying my food, which really is quite delicious. Especially these noodles. Mmm.
For dessert, there’s a chestnut cake, which I haven’t had in ages, but my mom used to get one each year for my birthday. I’d forgotten how much I like it. It’s the kind of chestnut cake where the sweet, pureed chestnuts are in the shape of spaghetti. I think the correct term is Mont Blanc, but I always just called it “chestnut cake.”
I compliment the cake, even though nobody in Vince’s family made it, but I try not to gush. I don’t want to seem uncool and awed by the simplest of things.
But I imagine that my child will enjoy chestnut cake—because my child will have excellent taste, of course—and celebrate birthdays with this family. Maybe I will be there, too?
The idea of me being with Vince long-term is still hard to envision.
After dinner, Courtney says, “Come with me.”
I follow her, as does Vince.
“No, not you,” she says to him. “Don’t worry, we’re just going to talk about you, the way you and me talk about Julian.”
He laughs, but I can tell he’s a little alarmed.
However, he lets me go with a look that says, Come get me if you need anything. We’ve been spending so much time together that we can communicate without words.
I look back at him for a moment, and when I turn to Courtney, she’s chuckling.