Weddings and Wasabi

by Camy Tang

  “How do you know Mimi?” Venus demanded.

  A smile curled on his full lips. “We’re dating.”

  “Dating?” all three cousins chorused.

  How had they not known this? Well, then again, since Lex was no longer Mimi’s housemate, they didn’t keep up with their next youngest cousin as much as they used to. Jenn could believe that if their dating was a recent development, she and her cousins might not have heard about it yet through the Sakai family grapevine (which rivaled the world wide web for speed and exaggeration).

  “What’s going on?” Mimi came up to them, but Jenn noted with interest that she didn’t do her normal proprietary slipping of her arm through her swain’s.

  Jenn had to choke through a burr in her throat. She blurted out, “This is the guy who hurt me in grad school.”

  Mimi’s brow furrowed.

  Venus’s face looked stormy.

  Lex’s eyes shot darts at him.

  Brad’s faint smile never faltered. He sighed. “Jenn, you still haven’t changed. Most children grow out of their make-believe stage, you know.”

  There was a beat of silence. Jenn had to snap shut her gaping mouth. She didn’t want to bite at his dangling conversational hook, but something perverse and masochistic inside of her made her say, “What are you talking about?”

  He looked puzzled. “Jenn, you’re still telling everyone I hurt you, but you did it all to yourself, by yourself.”

  “You lying—” Lex looked like she was about to throw a punch, but Venus grabbed her wrist, hard, and she winced.

  “I wasn’t even in the room by then,” he said, his calm demeanor still unperturbed.

  “That’s convenient,” Jenn snarled. “Before, you said you were too drunk to remember much of anything.”

  “You were obviously too drunk to remember anything, either.” There was a faint snicker in his tone.

  Heat radiated up her neck and face as if she’d opened the door to an oven set on broil. She tried to tell herself his accusation was unfair. Since that night in grad school, she hadn’t drunk alcohol other than a scant ounce of wine with dinner occasionally. But the memory of her wild behavior still felt like some hand twisting her guts around inside her.

  “It’s okay,” he said with a fatherly smile. “We all overindulge once in a while. But you really should stop making up stories about what happened.”

  “You’re the one making up stories. I have the scar to prove it.”

  “You fell into that bookcase by yourself—”

  “I fell?” She was incredulous. “You’re saying I happened to trip over hard enough to slam my face into that glass bowl, breaking it, and toppling your bookshelf? All by myself?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what happened after I had left you passed out on the bed.”

  “You left me passed out on the floor, my cheek bleeding from the glass, while you and your friends went out partying.” If her words were chef’s knives, his throat would have been slashed.

  He rolled his eyes. “Jenn, you told me to go with my friends. You were feeling sick, you laid down on my bed and told me to go away.”

  “That’s it!” Lex shook off Venus’s hand and shoved at Brad’s shoulder with an angry finger. “You lying piece of—”

  “She needed eight stitches,” Venus spat. “Where were you?”

  His eyes clouded with concern. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know where you were.”

  “You mean the blood on your carpet didn’t clue you in?” Jenn’s vision started clouding in on the edges, until all she saw were his lazy-lidded eyes and the red target between them where she wanted to plant her fist.

  “I didn’t even notice that until later—you know how messy I am.” A rueful smile flashed over his mouth, then it firmed again in concern. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know what happened to you.”

  The innocent look on his face made her hesitate. What if he was right? What if she had been so drunk she had only imagined him pushing her into the bookshelf? What if she really had done that to herself?

  No. She wasn’t mistaken. “You were obviously so worried, you didn’t call or email me after that.”

  “Jenn, you don’t even remember us breaking up just before I left the room.”

  It was true she didn’t remember him leaving her. She only remembered waking up in the empty room, her face in the sticky, blood-soaked carpet that smelled like copper and mold.

  But she remembered enough. They hadn’t broken up because she’d been unconscious. And yet, he was spouting these lies with incredible calmness, making her look like a hysterical, delusional ex-girlfriend.

  In front of all her family.

  “Oh my goodness.” Surprisingly, Venus’s voice was calm, wondering, curious. “I’ve never met a real pathological liar before.” She grabbed Jenn by the arm and turned away from him. “Come on. No use arguing with the sociopath.”

  Was she serious? Jenn resisted.

  But Lex took hold of her other arm, although with a firmer grip than Venus. “Come on, before I do something I’ll regret and end up in jail.”

  Jenn had a last fleeting look at Mimi, who stared at her with wide, burning eyes. Probably wondering if the real crazy person was the one walking away rather than the drop-dead gorgeous specimen of manhood standing next to her with admirable calm.

  “I told you to press charges,” Lex growled.

  “After his family paid for my hospital bill? It would have been a slap in the face.”

  “You didn’t ask them to do that. I told you before, I think they did it to keep you quiet—and it worked.”

  “And I told you, his family isn’t exactly non-huge, non-powerful, non-rich, and non-famous in the Bay Area.”

  “Now, Lex,” Venus said, still in that light, airy tone as if they had met an acquaintance for tea, “at the time she still loved Brad, even though he’d hurt her.”

  “What is up with you?” Lex glared at her over the top of Jenn’s head.

  “I’m fascinated. He’s a bonafide sociopath, like that one CSI: New York episode guest starring … what’s her name? The girl from The Secret Life of the American Teenager? Shailene Woodley.”

  CSI? American Teenager? “What are you talking about?”

  “Brad. He’s kind of neat if you think about it.”

  “Venus!” Jenn stopped in her tracks and gaped at her. Maybe her cousin had lost it.

  Venus opened her mouth to reply, but she didn’t get a chance to—three aunties descended on the cousins like Greek Furies.

  “Jennifer! How could you?” asked Great-Aunt Makiko, Grandma’s youngest sister.

  “You have completely embarrassed us all!” wailed Great-Aunt Mikiko, Grandma’s second youngest sister.

  “Just wait until your mother arrives!” threatened Aunty Meiko, Grandma’s oldest daughter.

  “Aunties, he’s the one who caused this.” Jenn pulled back her long hair, which she usually drew forward to cover the scar on her jawline.

  The aunties hesitated, staring at the scar as if it were the first time they were seeing it. They probably hadn’t seen it since that day years ago when she’d shown up with the stitches at a family birthday party she hadn’t been able to escape attending.

  “Pfft. That little thing?” Aunty Makiko said.

  “I thought it was bigger than that,” said Aunty Mikiko.

  “You’re making a fuss over that?” Aunty Meiko tagged along after her aunts’ opinions.

  Jenn’s gut started boiling and burbling and foaming, steaming her head like a char siu bao. Lex had turned red and Venus had turned white.

  The aunties continued, “He’s Mimi’s guest today.”

  “You should be nice to him.”

  “You’re ruining Aunty Aikiko’s party.”

  “Aunty’s party?” Jenn exploded. “What are you talking about? This is a party to celebrate my getting my culinary degree.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” Aunty Makiko looked at her as if she
were crazy.

  “Jenn, really. You have to stop thinking only about yourself.” Aunty Mikiko frowned at her.

  “This party is to celebrate Uncle Aki’s retiring, now that you’ll be working for Aunty Aikiko at the restaurant, and also to introduce Mimi’s new boyfriend to the family.”

  The ground seemed to be rumbling under Jenn’s feet, until she realized it was just her hands shaking in anger. “Uncle Aki’s retirement? Mimi’s new boyfriend?” She glanced back at Aunty Aikiko, who was talking to Brad and apparently trying to smooth the icing over the cracks their confrontation had caused in the party. Aunty Aikiko shot Jenn a malevolent look.

  The aunties were chorusing. “Mimi never brings nice boys home.”

  “Aunty Aikiko was so happy she met Brad.”

  “He’s from the Yip family, did you know that?”

  “Yes, I know that,” Jenn snapped. “I used to date him.”

  “Of course Brad would look nice compared to Mimi’s other boyfriends,” Lex interjected. “He’s not pierced, tattooed, or drunk.”

  “Or stoned,” Venus added. “Or unemployed and living off his family.”

  “Really, girls,” Aunty Makiko said. “That’s not very nice.”

  “So don’t you see why this is so exciting for Aunty Aikiko?” Aunty Mikiko said. “Mimi is her only daughter. Brad is such a catch.”

  “He hurt me!” Jenn burst out. “Doesn’t that mean anything to any of you?”

  Venus started. For good reason—Jenn couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken so disrespectfully to an aunty. But didn’t they care about her? She was family. He was not.

  “I’m sure he’s grown out of his wild ways and now he’s very respectable,” Aunty Meiko replied. “Why don’t you give him a chance? He seems so friendly.”

  The emotions trembling through her suddenly stilled, like the eye of a storm. This was how it was, then. Years of doing her best to please them—including taking classes so she could eventually take over for Aunty Aikiko at the restaurant—all meant nothing.

  She didn’t mean anything to any of them. They didn’t care about her. They couldn’t care less about her.

  Without even saying goodbye, Jenn turned from the three aunties and marched into the kitchen.

  Venus and Lex hustled to keep up with her. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Your purse and coat are in the front room, not the kitchen,” Lex said.

  “I’ll get them on the way out. If they don’t want me here, then I’ll leave—but I’m taking the food.”

  A wicked smile glinted in Venus’s eyes.

  They grabbed the plates of food Jenn had cooked and brought—for her graduation party, which, apparently, was not her own party after all—wrapping plates of cupcakes in foil to protect the artfully piped icing, sliding the baking pan of crab puffs back into the covered carrier, transferring the shrimp shu mai dumplings into their plastic container. While Jenn wrapped up the salt-and-pepper shrimp, Venus and Lex nipped out to the buffet table to grab the plates of food that had been moved out there, returning with half-eaten plates of deep fried lobster balls and other appetizers.

  “At least no one got the cupcakes yet,” Lex muttered. “What a waste that would have been.”

  Venus whipped out her cell phone. “Trish called a few minutes ago to say she was on the way, but I’ll tell her to meet us at Jenn’s house instead. I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to miss this spread.”

  Loaded with trays and Tupperware containers, the three cousins headed toward the door, ignoring some curious looks from relatives. Jenn toed her shoes on and tried to free a hand so she could open the door. “Let’s put the food in the car first, then come back for our coats and—”

  The front door swung open. “Jenn!” her mother said. She sounded alarmed rather than just surprised to see her at the door.

  A man stood beside her—Asian, older, with a mustache and a wide smile. “This is Jenn? How nice to meet you.” He held a hand out to her, but faltered when he saw her arms laden with food.

  “Did you just get here?” Mom asked.

  “No, I’m leaving.” Jenn tried to shuffle a Tupperware but it almost fell to the floor.

  “Oh.” The man’s face fell. “I was looking forward to chatting with you.”

  For some reason, Mom was avoiding Jenn’s eyes.

  Her grip tightened on the food carriers. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” He obviously knew who she was.

  “I apologize. Here I am going on like this. Max Hiroyama.” He wrapped his arm around Jenn’s mom. “Your mother and I have been dating for a few weeks.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “How could she not tell me?” Jenn stabbed a fork viciously into a shrimp shu mai steamed dumpling.

  “No.” Venus waved her chopsticks at Jenn, still holding onto her salt-and-pepper fried shrimp. “The real question is, how could she tell you there, along with all the other relatives—”

  “In front of all the other relatives.” Trish added her stabbing chopsticks to the firing squad at Jenn, although her air-stabbing flung a chow mein noodle onto Jenn’s plate.

  “—rather than telling you privately beforehand.” Venus bit the head off the shrimp.

  Lex spooned some black bean sauce shrimp onto a mound of rice. “Jenn, you made a lot of shrimp dishes for the party.”

  “And the problem with that is …?” Venus gave her a look.

  “I can take that shrimp if you—” Trish reached for Lex’s plate.

  Lex whapped her cousin’s chopsticks out of the way. “I wasn’t complaining.”

  A faint cry sounded from Jenn’s living room, and Trish got up. “Elyssa’s awake, time to feed her.”

  “Feed her in there, please.” Lex’s face was already almost as green as the sautéed Chinese broccoli.

  Venus rolled her eyes. “You are such a baby. It’s only breast milk, it’s not blood.”

  “It’s a bodily fluid, and I don’t nag you about your Mr. Monk impressions so stop nagging me about my neuroses.” Lex took a sip of green tea, and her color improved.

  “Besides, she’s almost off the milk by now anyway,” Trish called back to them as she exited Jenn’s kitchen and entered the living room. Her coos to her daughter carried to them.

  “So what are you going to do?” Venus asked Jenn.

  She toyed with her shrimp and portabella mushroom tart. What a waste of time it was to work on these when no one except themselves was enjoying them.

  Except after the way her family had treated her, she didn’t want any of them enjoying these. So this wasn’t a waste—it was actually preventing this food from going to waste on ungrateful, pushy, unsympathetic …

  “I want to show them that if I don’t matter to them, then they don’t matter to me.”