Death by Dumpling
Page 26
My dad held up a hand. “This makes the most sense. Lana is already working there full-time. And besides,” my dad said, eyeing Anna May, “you’ve got school. You don’t have a lot of time to run a business.”
I threw up my hands. “Oh, of course, Anna May and her law school stuff again. What about my stuff? Does anyone ever think of what I have going on in my life?”
“Lana.” My mother gave me her masterful look of disapproval. “This is something to help Mommy. Why would you not want to help Mommy? I changed your diaper when you were a baby.”
I sighed. The diaper argument. Every time.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving her in charge.” Anna May slouched in her seat. “Lana isn’t responsible enough to manage the restaurant unsupervised. I’m going to end up putting in extra time to help anyways.”
“Are you kidding me?” I turned to glare at her. “I’m sitting right here.”
She returned my glare with one of her own. “I know.”
“OK, girls,” my dad interjected. “That’s enough bickering. This is our decision and it’s final. Anna May, you have too much going on in your life to give the restaurant your full attention. Lana has more time than you do right now and this makes the most sense. End of story.”
Anna May folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. She doesn’t have anything going on besides hanging out at that stupid bar where Megan works.”
I stiffened in my seat. “First of all, Megan’s bar is not stupid. And I have stuff going on. Just because I don’t tell you every single thing I do doesn’t mean I’m not doing anything.”
“Right … want to tell us what that supposed stuff is exactly?”
My dad shushed my sister and then turned to me. “Lana? Is there a reason you don’t want to be in charge of the restaurant while we’re gone? If there’s something going on, Goober, you need to tell us.”
If I didn’t speak up now, it would be too late and I could kiss my chance of leaving the restaurant good-bye. By the time they were back from their trip, the position I was hoping to take would more than likely be filled. I contemplated and weighed my options as my family continued to stare at me, waiting for a justifiable answer.
My mother finally got to me. Her typical stoicism usually drove me crazy because I never knew what she was thinking. But, today, her emotions were written all over her face.
I looked away, feeling defeat. “No, there’s not.”
“Good, then it’s settled,” my dad said, rubbing my mother’s back. “See, Betty? I told you everything would work itself out.”
“When are you guys leaving?”
My mother looked down at her plate. “We leave in three days.”
“Three days?!”
Anna May chuckled beside me.
Great.
I’d like to say that this was my biggest problem, but unfortunately, this was going to turn out to be one of my better days.
CHAPTER
2
After dim sum, I headed home, a little on the blue side. The hope that I’d been holding on to for reinstating my former life was starting to slip away. In the past smattering of months, things had progressed from bad to worse, starting with the breaking up of ‘what’s his name’ and drifting in a downward motion towards walking out of a more-than-decent job, a mounting pile of credit card debt and an obsession with donuts that gained me a pant size. (In the wake of emotional disaster there is nothing I find more comforting than pastries and retail therapy.)
The uphill battle had been a difficult one and I gave in to taking a job at my parents’ Chinese restaurant so I could get caught up with my bills again. Turns out bill collectors are not very sympathetic to your break-up induced depressions.
Don’t get me wrong, some people like being in the service industry, and quite a few people even love it. But me … well, I’d had my fill. Ho-Lee Noodle House had been a part of my family since before I was born. There wasn’t a time I remembered it not being there. I needed a change of pace.
I don’t think it had originally been my mother’s dream to open a restaurant, but regardless, she and my father poured everything they had into making their business succeed. The plan was to keep Ho-Lee Noodle House alive for as long as possible, which for them meant keeping it in the family.
With two daughters, you wouldn’t necessarily think that the burden would be left on my shoulders. You’d think that it would go to the eldest. But, you’d be wrong.
Anna May, the scholar of the two of us, had her whole life planned out in a detailed outline that she’d started when she was around sixteen and read her first John Grisham novel. From there, talk about criminal law existed in the Lee family household just as much as noodle recipes.
Of course at that time, being two years her junior, I was still concerned with rock band posters and how I was going to get out of third period gym class. I had no such ambitions that could compare to that of my sister’s legal dream.
And perhaps, it was the pressure of comparing to her that led me down my eventual path of idealism. I became the dreamer of the family, the lover of arts and literature, taking joy in things that were made with creativity. I wanted to do something meaningful … to be driven by passion. I wanted to have something more than just “a job.” I just wasn’t sure what that entailed exactly. I had my interests, but nothing had stuck in terms of “life-long.”
And, as most twenty-somethings come to realize, having a dream doesn’t pay the bills in the adult world. After college, I floundered around aimlessly looking for jobs that would at least sustain my life as an adult, all the while knowing that if I didn’t find a grand career scheme like my sister, my fate would be chosen for me. “Pre-destined” did not sit well with me.
All of this devastation tumbled through my head as I walked into the two-bedroom apartment I shared with my best friend, Megan. It was a modest, garden-style apartment in North Olmsted, which was only a hop, skip and jump away from Asia Village. It made my commute easy and was one thing I could put on the “pro” side of my list.
Kikko, my black pug, waddled to the door to greet me. Her curly tail wiggled as she spun around my ankles. I knelt down to give her a pat on the head. She approved and scampered off in search of something acceptable to bring me.
Meanwhile, I found Megan sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in hand and paint swatches scattered in front of her. She was still in her pajamas, makeup-less, and her blonde hair was swept away from her face by a thick black headband. Without looking up she said, “Oh good, you’re home. I was just about to text you. I was thinking we could go to Home Depot today. I’ve decided on this mermaid theme for the bathroom, and this teal is the perfect color to paint the walls.” She held up a swatch to show me her recent selection. “I also need to grab a new flashlight and some window cleaner.”
“A flashlight? We have one under the sink.”
“I want one for my car. I’m putting together a whole kit of tools to keep in the trunk.”
I studied the paint swatch. “This works for me,” I said, with little emotion. I was too bogged down with my current pity party to give a more enthused answer.
“It kind of matches your hair.” She looked up and frowned. “What happened? Did your mom give you a hard time about your hair? Because you were anticipating that and we decided you weren’t going to let it get to you, remember? We both know she doesn’t do well with change.”
I nodded, sitting across from her, still in my coat. “Yeah, but that got overshadowed real fast.”
“With what?”
“My parents announced that they’re going to Taiwan for a couple of weeks to help take care of my grandmother.”
Megan sipped her coffee, unimpressed with my news. “What’s the big deal with that?”
“They’re leaving me in charge of running the restaurant. They leave on Wednesday.” I slouched in the chair.
“Wednesday?!” Megan shouted.
Kikko came barreling into the di
ning area, stuffed duck flapping in her mouth. She dropped it at my feet and looked at me in anticipation.
I knelt down and picked up the duck, throwing it into the hallway. Kikko happily scuttled after it. “Yes, Wednesday, the day before my interview. The interview I’m not going to make because I now have to work.”
“But, didn’t you tell your parents that you were trying to get this job?”
I looked at the floor.
“You did, right?” Megan insisted.
“I didn’t think it was a good time…”
“Lana! How else are you going to get out of that place if you don’t speak up?”
“It wasn’t a good time to bring it up. It’s really important to my mom that she go to Taiwan right now, and I didn’t want to cause more problems for them,” I said, trying to justify my actions. “I can always try again when they get back.”
“What about Anna May? Can’t she run the restaurant?”
“They think it would get in the way of her school stuff. And, it probably would.”
Kikko came back with her duck, dropped it on the floor, and nudged it with her nose.
“Of all the times for your parents to choose to go to Taiwan, of course it’s now.” Flustered, Megan stood abruptly, startling Kikko who in turn grabbed her duck with indignation and pranced into the other room. “Well, we’ll figure out a plan together. You have to get that job. It’s not going to wait around for you.” She sighed. “In the meantime, I’m going to get dressed and then we’re going to Home Depot … getting into this bathroom project will cheer you up.”
“What will cheer me up is if we stop at the donut shop on the way.”
PRAISE FOR DEATH BY DUMPLING
“Vivien Chien serves up a delicious mystery with a side order of soy sauce and sass. A tasty start to a new mystery series!”
—Kylie Logan, bestselling author of Gone with the Twins
“Vivien Chien brings a fresh new voice to cozies. Death by Dumpling is a fun and sassy debut with unique flavor, local flair, and heart.”
—Amanda Flower, Agatha Award-Winning author of Lethal Licorice
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Vivien Chien was born and raised in an ethnically diverse household in Cleveland, Ohio. She found her love of books and the written word at an early age while writing short stories about her classmates in elementary school. Currently, she writes side-by-side with her toy fox terrier who refuses to sit anywhere else. When she’s not writing or frolicking in bookstores, Vivien enjoys frequenting local Asian restaurants and searching for her next donut. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Teaser
Praise for Death by Dumpling
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DEATH BY DUMPLING
Copyright © 2018 by Vivien Chien.
Excerpt from Dim Sum of All Fears copyright © 2018 by Vivien Chien.
Jacket Art: illustration © Danny O’Leary; couple © Oleksandr Medvedenko/Shutterstock.com; house © Stas Moroz/Shutterstock.com; coast © Dancestrokes/Shutterstock.com
All rights reserved.
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / April 2018
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