by Liwen Y. Ho
“I’ve got an extra shirt in the car,” Ben offered. “It’s a bit big, but it’ll beat wearing a wet shirt all night. Let me go get it.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“Ah, I forgot the plum sauce,” Mrs. Koo declared before retracing her footsteps back to the kitchen.
As soon as their mother left the room, Sam turned to Melanie. “That was close! Another second and Ma would’ve put two and two together and figured out that Mr. Peters is interested in a lot more than math.”
“I , uh, got a little distracted.”
“A little? You two were off in your own world. Like in another galaxy.”
Melanie groaned. “I know. I need to get back to earth.” Being near Ben made her feel like she was floating around in space, and the limited oxygen supply had compromised her decision-making skills. “This is all too much, too fast.”
Sam pursed her lips at the line appearing between Melanie’s eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to sneak around behind Ma’s back anymore. I wish our relationship could be easier, but Ben and I are so different. We eat different food. We speak different languages. We don’t go to the same church, either.” Realization hit her like a bucket of cold water, chilling her more than the liquid Sam had just poured on her. She couldn’t believe her ears. She was speaking the very words that Melvin had once said to her. But if they didn’t have any merit before, why should they matter now?
“Like I always say, who cares?” Sam threw her hands up in the air. “You know, Ga Je, for someone who didn’t mind working her butt off in school, you sure like to take the easy way out in love. Just because something is easy doesn’t mean it’s better. Sometimes the hard things in life are the ones worth fighting for.”
“Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I tried so hard to make it work with Ming. Even when I flew back to Hong Kong to surprise him for his twenty-first birthday, it didn’t change things. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you can’t force a relationship. What if Ben decides one day that he doesn’t want to put in the effort to make us work?”
Before Sam could answer, Ben returned with a white T-shirt in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He set the bag down and held up the shirt for them to see. “This is my favorite shirt. Wear it with pride.”
Melanie noted the words Party with Trees printed across the front next to a red S and the image of a redwood tree. “I can’t believe it…”
“It’s cool, isn’t it? I’m going to order another one just like it in forest green to match the tree.”
“It is a great shirt. And you are a true Stanford alumni,” she declared with a lopsided grin. “I’m going to go change.” She excused herself from the table, all the while shaking her head in amusement at the shirt in her hands.
Melanie changed quickly in the restroom and emerged in Ben’s shirt, clean and dry. She was walking down the dim hallway past the kitchen when a man appeared in her path. Her jaw dropped at the sight of her first love. “Ming? What are you doing here?”
Ming greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. “To see an old friend, of course.”
Seconds later, Mrs. Koo walked out of the kitchen with a glass of soda in one hand and a bowl of reddish-brown dip in the other. “You found her! Come, come,” she urged Ming in Cantonese. “Let’s go sit down and eat.”
Ming flashed Melanie a flirty smile as he placed his hand on the small of her back. “Come with me,” he murmured as he guided her down the hall.
Heart beating fast, Melanie forced her feet to move. Her hand went to her cheek, savoring the trace of warmth that Ming’s lips had left there. Her head spun as she tried to process what was happening. What was Ming doing? What am I doing? She was overwhelmed by the attention he was showering on her, but she had to admit it also felt good. She had longed for this reunion for so long, of him coming to America to be with her. Why did the timing have to be off? If it was three months ago …
When they had reached the table, Mrs. Koo set the glass down in front of Ben and introduced Ming to him. “This is good friend from Hong Kong.”
Ben’s brows shot up in surprise. He strode over and straightened to his full height of six feet, towering over Ming. “Hi there,” he stated as he stuck out his hand, “I’m Ben, Melanie’s boyfriend.” The emphasis he placed on the last word caused Melanie and her sisters to gasp.
Strangely enough, Melanie noticed her mother didn’t even bat an eyelash at Ben’s announcement. Perhaps her English comprehension wasn’t as good as she had thought. However, no one could miss the sour expression on Ben’s face. Stepping forward, she wedged herself between the man who had been a part of her past and the man who wanted to be a part of her future. “This is Ming, a childhood friend of mine.”
“Sit here,” Mrs. Koo encouraged Ming as she directed him to the seat next to Melanie’s.
Ming grinned at Melanie, showcasing the dimple in his right cheek. “I just came from airport, but I came right away to see you. It has been too long.”
Melanie couldn’t help smiling. Though Ming’s speech faltered, his charm more than made up for his heavy English accent. He still had the same confident stance and baby-faced good looks that had caught her eye years ago. Apparently, her mom had also fallen under his spell. From the way she was piling food onto his plate, one would have thought he hadn’t eaten in days.
Everyone settled into their seats and turned their attention to the food on the table. Mr. Koo brought out more dishes and sat down as well. When people weren’t eating, they were talking up a storm. Ming carried the bulk of the conversation with stories about his travels, as well as his upcoming trip the following week.
“What did you say you do for work?” Ben asked curiously.
Ming puffed out his chest and a lock of dyed blond hair fell over one eye, giving him the appearance of a bird doing a mating dance. “I am performer,” he stated with pride. “I started as actor, now I am singer. I come to perform in Las Vegas for New Year.”
“Ming is, how you say … famous,” Mrs. Koo touted.
Sam rolled her eyes. “He’s more well-known in Hong Kong,” she told Ben in a bored tone. “People in the U.S. obviously haven’t heard of Ming. He’s not like Jackie Chan or anything.”
“Sam!” Melanie piped up. “Don’t be rude.”
“It’s okay,” Ming insisted with a wave of his hand. “I have many fans in America. That’s why I come here. I sell out all my shows.”
“That’s one thing you’re good at—selling out. Just like how you sold out your friends for your career,” Sam accused through pursed lips.
Melanie gasped at Sam’s bluntness. An uneasy smile spread across her face though when she realized Sam’s words had been lost on Ming and her parents. Even still, she gave her sister a stern look of disapproval.
“I see.” Ben eyed Ming warily. “You must have a busy schedule. A job like that doesn’t leave much time for relationships, does it?”
“I make time,” he answered as he boldly draped his arm over the back of Melanie’s chair, “for important people.”
Melanie winced as Ming shot Ben a haughty smile. She felt like a caged animal sitting in between them. So much for a peaceful dinner. The tension in the room was so thick, she imagined she could slice into it with the cleaver her dad used to cut meat.
“Hey, Mel, you okay?” Ben leaned over, his eyes intense and protective.
“I … yeah, I’m fine.” She reached for the closest serving spoon and scooped some food onto Ben’s plate. “Have you tried the Peking duck? It’s extra crispy tonight.”
“No, I haven’t. Thanks,” Ben replied with a small smile. “I can help myself to some of the plum sauce.”
Melanie placed the spoon back, then picked it up again. “Ming, would you like some?”
“Yes, of course. Your father’s duck is the best. Better than the finest restaurants in Hong Kong. I know because I have tasted them all.” Encouraged by Mrs. Koo’s laught
er, Ming began sharing about the celebrities he had dined with recently. The conversation switched from English to Cantonese as he indulged himself in the spotlight.
Ben gave Melanie a bewildered look, but she was too caught up in Ming’s stories to translate for him. She could only shrug and hope he would keep himself busy with the food.
During a rare lull in the conversation, Ben raised his hand as if calling for attention. He then cleared his throat and grinned at Mrs. Koo. “Mrs. Koo, the plum sauce is hou sei,” he boasted with a wide grin. “You did a wonderful job on it.”
The entire table gasped and fell silent.
Mrs. Koo’s jaw dropped, and all color drained from her face. She sprang to her feet, throwing her chopsticks against her plate with a loud clatter.
Melanie squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the nightmare would be over when she opened them. This was the cultural clash she had been waiting for, except it was now turning into a major head-on collision.
“The plum sauce is—,” Ben attempted again before Melanie cut him off.
“Ma, Ben didn’t mean that! He was trying to say hou sihk. He likes your plum sauce. Ma?” Never in her life had Melanie seen her mother at a loss for words. However, she guessed by the way her hands were shaking that she was gearing up for a verbal onslaught. If only she could act as a human shield and protect Ben from the imaginary daggers shooting out from her mother’s eyes.
“Ma, calm down,” Sam drawled. “We all know he wasn’t telling you to drop dead.”
“What? Oh, no no no!” Ben waved his hands in a gesture of peace. “I would never—I was trying to say your plum sauce is good.” He turned to Melanie with desperation clouding his hazel eyes. “Mel, please…”
“Ma, please sit down.” Melanie exhaled for a moment to see some color returning to her mother’s face. But soon enough, her complexion resembled the tomato beef dish on her plate. “Ma, please! Remember your blood pressure. You need to take slow, deep breaths.”
“Yau ma gau cho?!” Mrs. Koo screamed in disgust. She continued lashing out more demeaning phrases in Cantonese, the words spewing out of her mouth at a furious pace. Mr. Koo and Ming attempted to console her, but to no avail.
Melanie felt beads of sweat gather at her temple as her mother’s tantrum escalated. She was thankful Ben couldn’t understand the accusations, although she was sure most of the people walking into the restaurant did. At the rate her mother’s voice was growing in volume, she knew they would soon not have any customers left. With her mother’s health and their business profits at risk, she decided something had to be done. She turned to Ben with a sorrowful look. Unable to think of a better solution, she made a solemn request. “Ben, you need to leave. Please go, before things get worse.”
His lips drew taut as he accepted his fate. “I’m sorry, Melanie. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please know that.”
As Melanie watched him stride out of the restaurant with his head bowed, she only knew one thing. There were some disasters you could never recover from.
Chapter 8
“Her chest pain started ten minutes ago,” Melanie informed the paramedic taking her mother’s vitals. While she relayed the rest of her mother’s medical history, the paramedics loaded Mrs. Koo onto a cot.
Mrs. Koo clutched her chest and reached for Melanie’s hand. “Daughter, don’t leave me!” she cried out dramatically. “It hurts so much.”
“Don’t worry, Ma, Ba will ride with you in the ambulance. We’ll meet you at the hospital.” Turning to her sisters, Melanie gestured for them to follow. “Let’s go. We’ll take my car.”
Ming put a hand on Melanie’s arm. “No, you girls come with me. My driver is parked in back. Come.”
Melanie paused, unsure if she had heard him correctly. “Are you sure you want to go to the hospital?”
“Of course.”
“M goi,” Melanie’s eyes welled up with hot tears. If she had been anxious before, her stress levels were off the charts now. Ming’s gesture brought her some much-needed comfort. “I really appreciate it, Ming.”
“We are family,” he added with a wink. “Your mom treat me like son.”
Melanie nodded, even as her heart sank. Ming was right; he was the closest thing to a son that her family had ever had. And Ben, unfortunately, was the furthest.
* * *
“Ben, what are you doing here?” Melanie walked over to where he stood at the restaurant’s large sink.
Ben switched off the spray of the faucet and turned around. He removed a pair of yellow rubber gloves and set them on the edge of the metal sink. “How’s your mom? One of the waitresses, Miss Chan, said you called earlier, but there were no updates.”
“Her blood pressure is back to normal,” she answered with a nod, “but she still has some chest pain. We’re waiting for the results from the blood test and EKG to see if there’s been any damage to her heart.”
“Was it a heart attack?”
“We don’t know for sure yet, but the way she looked—” she paused, knowing she didn’t need to rehash the evening’s events to Ben. “Well, you were there. She fainted soon after you left, and that’s when Sam called 911.”
“Shouldn’t you be at the hospital with your family? If you’re worried about the restaurant, everything’s under control. Miss Chan turned on the closed sign already.”
“I know. I just stopped by to check the cash register. My mother is actually more concerned about the money in it than she is about her health. She wanted me to come count it and make sure the total matches the receipts for the day.”
“Counting? That’s right up my alley. I could help if you’d like.”
She noticed the exhaustion in his face and frowned. “Thanks for offering, but I finished it already. Have you been here the whole evening? Miss Chan didn’t mention you were washing the dishes.”
“I actually came back for my bike helmet. When I got here, the kitchen crew was starting to get swamped with all the customers showing up. So I thought I’d follow through on your dad’s request.” The smile playing on his lips didn’t reach his weary eyes. “I just finished the last load, so I’ll be heading home. Ashlynn’s waiting for me to eat fruit cake.”
“Ben, you didn’t have to wash the dishes. But thank you so much. My family will be grateful to know you were here helping with the restaurant.” In awe of his generosity after everything that had happened that evening, Melanie reached over and hugged him. She immediately found comfort in the warmth of his body and the clean scent of dishwashing soap lingering on his clothes. She held on tight, wishing she could hide in his embrace and pretend tonight had never happened. The workers remaining in the kitchen watched them curiously, but she didn’t care. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Ben’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at her heartfelt display of affection. He gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “You must be exhausted. It’s been a crazy night.”
“Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it. First, Ming shows up and acts like everything’s normal, even though we haven’t talked in five years. Then my mom has the meltdown of her life. Oh, Ben,” Melanie exclaimed as her dark eyes turned remorseful, “I didn’t mean for your Christmas to turn out this way. And I’m sorry I asked you to leave.”
Ben released her and took a step back. “No, I’m the one to blame. I ruined your whole family’s Christmas. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” He ran a hand through his thick hair and sighed. “If anything had happened to your mom because of something I said—I would never forgive myself. I feel horrible that I caused her to suffer.”
“You didn’t mean it, Ben. It was one mispronunciation.”
“A very bad mispronunciation.”
“Okay, so it was a bad one,” she admitted slowly, “but she clearly overreacted. Don’t blame yourself.”
“What’s clear is that your mom doesn’t like me, and she may never accept me after what happened tonight.”
“You don’t know that
. I know things don’t look too good right now, but they could change.” Even Melanie couldn’t deny the uncertainty she heard in her own voice.
Ben crossed his arms, unconvinced by her words. “I know you’re trying to be positive for my sake. But even before I made that blunder, I felt like the way she treated me was distant—actually, make that professional. It’s the same feeling I get from parents during parent-teacher conferences. What she seemed to care about was making sure Billie did well on her math final. She didn’t see me as anything but a teacher.”
“Well, you know Chinese parents,” she jumped in with a sheepish smile. “Grades matter a lot to my mother, especially with Billie applying to college next year.”
“I understand her concerns, but”— Ben paused with a frown —“tell me something. Did your mother know who I am, besides the fact that I’m Billie’s teacher?”
“What?” Melanie dropped her gaze to the ground. “What do you mean?”
“Melanie, did you tell her we’re dating?”
“Oh … that. Not exactly,” she confessed as she met his disappointed eyes. “It’s not that I didn’t want to, Ben, but it’s tricky. I thought introducing you first as Billie’s teacher would be to your advantage.”
“So you did it to give me an edge?”
“Yes, I wanted my mother to at least give you a chance. Your job puts you in a special position of authority. My mother has to respect you because of that. You saw the way she served you food; she actually smiled with her teeth showing.”
“I take it that was a good thing, but was misleading your mother the only option?”
Melanie sighed, feeling caught in a no-win situation. “I couldn’t just come out and tell her I was dating a white guy who’s a teacher.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth. “That came out wrong.”