by Camy Tang
Venus nearly spit out her coffee. She turned to the break room doorway, where a figure in cream wool and ostentatious pearls sashayed inside.
“Mom! What are you doing here?”
FOURTEEN
I came to see my daughter!” Mom struck a pose in the middle of the break room, which would have been rather funny if it hadn’t been in the break room of her company.
“It’s a little early for you, isn’t it?” Luckily, it was early for most—although not all—of Bananaville too, and the break room was empty except for her and Esme.
“Hello, dear, I’m Venus’s mother, Laura Sakai.” Mom’s eyes had lighted on Esme, and the look in her mother’s eyes made Venus gnash her teeth.
Mom used to have the same look at family parties when she greeted Venus’s skinnier, prettier cousins. Not quite embarrassed of her gargantuan daughter, but not quite acknowledging familial ties with her either. Obviously admiring the other girls while trying to ignore the fact her own daughter disappointed her.
And even when that daughter became skinnier and prettier (although still not as stick-thin as aforementioned cousins), she disappointed her mother because she didn’t suddenly turn into the compliant half of a picture-perfect mother–daughter duo that Mom had wanted all those years. No, Venus wasn’t about to suddenly fall in with Mom’s idea of how a good daughter would make her look.
Hence the exuberant charm exerted for Esme, who dressed in flowy feminine dresses instead of power suits with masculine lines, who stood a good six inches shorter than Venus (ten inches shorter than herself in heels), who was only twenty-five, and who had the sweet and pleasing demeanor Venus had never perfected.
“So how do you like working for Venus?” Mom’s question seemed innocent, but Venus read the bite behind her words. How difficult is it to work for Venus? Why did Mom seem to want to embarrass her so often?
Esme, however, didn’t fall for it. “Oh, she’s wonderful! So efficient and organized.” She gave a bright smile to Venus. “I haven’t worked with anyone so professional in any of my other jobs.”
Mom’s sugary expression faltered.
Was she serious? Venus tended to intimidate her coworkers or incite cattiness. Esme seemed to actually like her. “R-really?”
Esme rolled her eyes. “I can’t begin to tell you the kind of incompetence I’ve had to put up with.”
That sounded like something Venus would say. Sunlight flickered into the dark room that was her heart. “I enjoy working with you too.” What a strange feeling. She was getting along with a woman who wasn’t one of her cousins.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, dear.” Mom’s voice cut into their fuzzy-wuzzy moment, slicing with its hard edge. “Venus, I need to talk to you.”
“Fine. Let’s go to my office.” She turned and walked out, sipping her coffee. She did not want to face her mother unloaded.
Mom followed her out. “What do you mean, ‘fine’? That’s so rude. I thought I raised you better.”
“You didn’t raise me, Mom.”
She sniffed. “You chose to live with your father.”
“Because Dad never made me feel unworthy just because I was fat.” She flung open her office door.
“I never made you feel unworthy.” Righteous indignation, but more affronted rather than hurt by her words. Venus had no illusions about how much her mother loved her.
“You also never visited me at work or called me to go to lunch until after I’d lost weight.” Venus shut the door behind her mother.
Why did she keep revisiting the old argument? Why did it still sting? Why couldn’t she just let it go? This was completely illogical, and Venus was never illogical. Well, mostly never.
“Mom, let’s just forget it. I’m glad you came by to see me.” Would God forgive that lie if it was meant to make her mom feel better? Good intentions counted, right? Do unto others—she’d want someone to lie to her.
Mom’s mouth still pinched, but she perched on the edge of the chair across from Venus, who sat behind her desk.
“So, Mom, what are you doing today?”
“Obviously not as much work as you.” She sniffed.
Venus counted to ten. Then she did it again for good measure. “Did you want to go to lunch today?”
“No, since you’re so busy.”
Venus dug her nails into her thighs under the desk. “Mom, I really am busy. My Web director quit this morning, I had to reprimand an employee, and it’s not even eight o’clock yet. If you’re going to be difficult, you can leave now and I’ll call you tonight.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how they sounded. Oh, no.
Mom’s nostrils flared, her bosom heaved, and her back was so straight, Venus wondered if it would snap like a ruler. But she exhaled long and hard through her nose, then settled back into her seat. “I came by to ask you about a dinner party I’m throwing in a couple weeks.”
“When?” Venus opened her PDA.
“Saturday the seventeenth.”
Venus’s stomach burbled like a sulfurous hot water spring. Oh, brother. This was going to totally hack her mom off. “I can’t. Yeh-yeh’s—I mean, Dad’s father’s seventieth birthday party is that night.”
“So your father’s family is more important than me?”
Here we go. “Mom, it’s Grandpa’s seventieth birthday. It’s a big deal in Chinese culture.”
“Because obviously your Chinese side is more important than your Japanese side.”
Sometimes, Venus wondered who was the child and who was the parent. “I don’t have time to discuss this, Mom. Did you have anything else you needed?”
“For a Christian, you’re terribly mean to your own mother!” Her voice broke.
Venus squeezed her temples with her thumb and fingers, but her nails bit into the skin. She wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. Her selfish, hypocritical mother talking to her about God.
Honor your father and mother.
No, she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to remember that verse. Sometimes she wondered if she’d spent most of her life—post-divorce, anyway—avoiding that particular commandment. It simply wasn’t possible. Her mother was too much. “I’m not arguing with you, especially about a religion you know nothing about.” After all, wasn’t a mother supposed to love her children?
“So now you’re saying I’m stupid!” Her voice rose past the whiney stage straight to hysterical. “My own daughter calling me names!”
“Mother—”
“After all I’ve done for you! I bore you in my body for nine months. You gave me terrible back pains and even worse, you gave me varicose veins!”
Venus winced at the shriek in her voice. Everyone in the building could hear her. “Mom!”
“And all I get is your smart mouth. Well, you certainly didn’t get that from me. And you didn’t get your hips from me either, thank goodness. No one can blame me for giving you bad genes—you got that all from your father!”
What? “Mom, everyone can hear—”
“I don’t care if they hear me! They all need to know I have an ungrateful daughter who can’t even come to a small dinner party. She’d rather spend the evening with an old man—”
A brisk knock, knock was the only warning before the door opened. Drake walked in. “Venus, I—oh, hello Mrs. Sakai.” His face blossomed, and Venus’s heart blipped in response even though he wasn’t even looking at her. “I’m Drake Yu. I don’t know if you remember me, but my mother introduced us at your mother’s last Christmas party. It’s so nice to see you again. You’re looking well.”
Mom preened and actually batted her eyelashes. “Why, thank you.” Gone was the harpy of only a few seconds ago. Venus wanted to hang her head in her hands. Her mother switched moods faster than an Intel processor.
Drake touched her elbow and raised her to her feet. “I’d love to introduce you to my sister, who’s the founder of the company…”
Behind her mom’s back, but visible t
o Drake, Venus opened her eyes wide and made a neck slashing motion with her hand. Bad idea.
“…right after I get you comfortable in my office. Here, let me get the door. Can I get you some coffee? There’s a wonderful Vietnamese coffee shop across the street. Let me get, uh…”
Venus mouthed to him, Darla.
“… Darla to get us some while we chat. How have you been the past year? My mom says she sees you in Japantown every so often…” The door to her office closed behind them.
Venus deflated and plastered herself over the surface of her desk. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t bad enough the Web director had quit, but she had to deal with her mother at this insane hour of the morning, only to be rescued by Drake of all people. She hadn’t even finished her first cup of coffee. She really needed chocolate.
She opened her stash drawer and took out her 72% dark chocolate bar, but the bitterness made her tongue curdle. This just didn’t cut it.
She forced herself to swallow more coffee instead. She’d love some Vietnamese coffee, sweet and strong enough to melt your teeth… No, you have more self control than that.
The door suddenly opened and Drake walked in. “The drama queen has left the building.”
“So soon?”
“Bruce Whittaker was walking out of Gerry’s office just as we got into the hallway, and the two of them decided to go for coffee together.”
Oh, the gray-haired man. “Excuse my ignorance, but who’s he?”
“Potential investor, friend of my father.”
“Ah.”
Drake dug into his pocket and handed her a small orange package.
Reese’s peanut butter cups. Venus almost swooned. Her mouth began to water like a bubbling mountain spring. She closed it, but that made her breathe through her nose, and the chocolaty peanut butter scent filled her sinuses and her lungs with a sugar buzz. “I don’t eat chocolate.”
“You need this.” He dropped it on the desk in front of her.
Defying her brain, her fingers felt the crisp ridges along the edges of the packaging. “I don’t eat Reese’s—”
“Now you’re lying.”
“—anymore.” He remembered? “A lot has changed. It’s been six years.”
“It’s been five years and five months since you walked out of my office, and you were so upset with me that you left an entire box in your desk drawer.”
Oops. Busted.
“You look like you’re going to bite into it without unwrapping the package.”
That wasn’t too far from the truth. She sighed, then ripped it open.
It melted on her tongue. Salty and oh, so sweet. A little sticky, but not gooey She groaned. She hadn’t had one in years.
Without even asking her, Drake reached out and broke off a piece from the other cup. Popping it into his mouth, he asked, “So, that’s your mother?”
She groaned an entirely different groan.
Venus couldn’t look away.
Josh, a tall high school boy, clutched his stomach with one hand while the other still held the half-eaten slice of pizza. Except it was no ordinary pizza—this one had gobs of dried red pepper flakes piled on top of it. Sweat streamed down his face, and he grimaced as he chewed.
Herman sat next to him, the instigator of this agonizing “game,” wincing as he gathered the courage to take a bite of his own pizza, also loaded with red pepper flakes.
First one to finish won.
The high school kids gathered around, cheering and laughing. They loved challenging Herman because he was up for anything. Including excruciating bites of food that would probably melt his intestines tomorrow.
Leaning against the wall next to Venus, Rachel huffed. “He’s supposed to be my date for the Monster’s Ball, and now he’s going to be too sick to go! I’ll kill him!”
Naomi tittered. “If the pizza doesn’t kill him first.”
“You actually have a Monster’s Ball?” Venus studied Rachel’s face to see if she was just pulling her chain.
“Well, it’s just a ball where the girls dress up and the guys dress grungy.” Naomi sighed, echoed by a couple of the other teens.
“And it’s in a couple weeks?”
“The weekend before Halloween.”
“Do you guys dress as something?”
“We try.” Sarah gave a sigh that came up from her gut and emptied her lungs.
“Oh, ignore her.” Rachel flapped a hand in her direction. “She’s still peeved her mom wouldn’t let her go as a belly dancer last year.”
Venus’s mouth dropped open. “Belly dancer? I don’t blame her.”
“It was only three inches. Three little inches of midriff.”
“Tcha! It was more like seven or eight.”
“Besides, at least you can go.” Mika looked down, not meeting anyone’s eyes. There was a thread of hurt in her voice that silenced the other girls, as well.
“Your parents won’t let you go?” Venus didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to dealing with drama like this. Her mother’s drama didn’t count—most of the time, that was like spaghetti thrown at a wall. Her mother would hurl all kinds of things at Venus to see what would stick, what would provoke a reaction.
“My mom won’t let me go to any dances.”
“Her mom hates men,” Naomi piped up. “Ow!”
Sarah had smacked her in the arm. “Dummy. You don’t know if Mika wants somebody else to know that.”
“Oh.”
“No, it’s okay.” Mika had that distant look and tone that Venus recognized, trying to pretend the issue wasn’t that important when in reality, it ate at her heart like battery acid. “She’s been like that since Dad left.”
Silence descended among them, surrounded by the cheering of the other kids as Josh and Herman ate themselves to death. The girls fiddled with their earrings, their bracelets, their rings, with stray threads on their fashionable tops, with strands of their hair. What should she say now? Venus’s panic was like a silent scream in the midst of their non-chatter. She didn’t have a clue on how to be warm and fuzzy.
Jenn. Her cousin was always encouraging and sweet and everything Venus was not. She’d pretend to be Jenn. “It’s okay—” She put her hand on Mika’s shoulder.
She shrugged it off. “No, actually, it’s not okay.”
The girls seemed to be all holding their breaths.
“It totally sucks.” Mika spoke in a throbbing whisper. “Sometimes I just hate her for being so unreasonable. And she’s so bitter and selfish and she just doesn’t listen to me.”
Hmm, that sounded familiar.
“And Pastor Lester always says for us to do our best to honor our parents, because that’s the only commandment with a promise attached.”
There it was again. The commandment had popped into her head the past few weeks at random times. “How do you honor a parent you can’t even respect?”
“Exactly!” Mika’s breast heaved.
Venus didn’t want to encourage a griping session, but she also knew she was supposed to have some kind of answer, wasn’t she? After all, she was a youth leader, and she’d read through her Bible twelve times. Shouldn’t she know how to answer her, rather than asking an angst-filled question?
“It’s so hard.” Mika sighed. “And I’ve been trying so hard. But I keep getting into fights with her.”
Venus couldn’t even say she was trying. This fifteen-year-old girl embarrassed her with her passionate heart. Venus’s faith was simply stagnant—she treated her mother the way she’d always treated her.
“Do you still want to go shopping with us tomorrow?” Naomi asked.
“Naomi!” Rachel hissed.
“It’s okay.” Mika sniffled. “I can at least go shopping. It’s one of the few things she’ll let me do.”
Venus doubted Mika’s mom was that restrictive. She had realized in the past few weeks that these girls liked to exaggerate.
“Ve
nus, you want to come with?” Naomi asked.
“Me?” She looked around at their fresh, young faces. “I don’t know a thing about ball dresses.” She hadn’t gone to her own prom, much less any other dance in high school.
“But you’re always dressed nice.” Rachel fingered her Banana Republic blouse.
After that first night at youth group, she’d dressed both for potential mess and with a little more style. Problem was, her closet consisted of suits, workout clothes, and loungewear she’d never walk out of her house with. Her designer jeans had cost several hundred dollars, her tops were mostly separates to go with her suits.
But they must have thought she looked okay. Maybe it was the fact the price tag on her back probably topped these girls’ allowances for an entire year. “I guess…if you guys really want me to.”
“Yes!” Naomi clapped her hands. “You can help us pick out something really sophisticated.”
Maybe all those fashion and gossip mags she loved weren’t just mind candy—she could use the style guides to help these girls look their best.
The one person who really knew fashion was her mother.
No. No no no. She wasn’t even going to consider that. She hadn’t spoken to Mom—or rather, her mom hadn’t spoken to her—since that day at work weeks ago. Mom wouldn’t even want to see her.
No, that wasn’t true. Usually her mother’s moodiness ensured she didn’t hold grudges for very long. If Venus proffered an olive branch, Mom would probably leap at it.
Honor your father and mother.
She’d stopped telling herself to shut up by now because it hadn’t been working. It had also occurred to her that the voice might be God and not just some secret place in her head.
“Can my mom come too?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could change her mind.
The girls looked thoughtful.
“She’s really good at fashion. Better than me. She’d love helping you guys.” And she realized that it was true. Her mother would delight in helping each girl look stunning in just the right dress for her.
“Okay.” Naomi’s eyes were as luminous as Mikimotos. “I could use help because I have such big hips.” She sighed and looked down at her teeny weeny torso.