Weddings and Wasabi

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Weddings and Wasabi Page 6

by Camy Tang


  Jenn had to admit it was extremely clever. In invoking Grandma’s name to Brad’s mom, Jenn couldn’t get rid of the goat or else she’d risk Mrs. Yip talking to Grandma about Jenn. It would put Grandma in a very awkward position, despite the fact she probably didn’t even know about this goat feud.

  Her head was on fire. Her hair was burning. She really did expect laser beams to shoot out of her eyes as she glared at first Brad then Larry. She turned and moved toward the door slowly, keeping an iron hold on her raging desire to run around in a circle shrieking her frustration.

  Just before she left, Larry called out, “Hey, you forgot your bag.” He kicked the bag of laundry she’d dropped.

  He didn’t even realize it was his bag of laundry, the doofus-brain. She was about to snarl at him what he could do with it, but then an idea of such brilliance struck her, she wondered where that brilliance had been when she was trying to pass her physics classes.

  She met Larry with tight face, praying she didn’t betray her elation. “Oh, sorry. You don’t want that there, do you?”

  He snorted. “No, get it out of here.”

  “I’ll get that out of your way.” She slung the bag over her shoulder and walked out of the dorm.

  She had to walk several blocks off campus to one of the fraternity houses. A nice-looking kid sat on the front steps studying.

  Jenn paused. He looked a little too respectable, but the bag was too heavy for her to try to find another frat house. “Hi.”

  He looked up. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  “I need a few guys with a little creativity.”

  “To do what?”

  She held out the duffle bag. “These clothes belong to Larry, a freshman living in Building B. I need you do to something very creative and very public with them.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, turning him from angelic into downright devilish. “Larry, you said? Your wish is my command.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “His tighty-whiteys ended up on a flagpole,” Jenn told her cousins the next day over lunch. “They had written his name on them in Sharpie markers.”

  Lex chortled. “Think he’ll tell his mom?”

  “And admit his pajamas were decorated and waving outside the art building? I don’t think so.” Jenn passed them a plate of cheese spread and crackers. “Here, try this, I’m thinking of using this for the wedding.”

  Trish tried one. “Delish, but remember, Mom’s on a special diet because of her heart attack.”

  “Oh, nuts. I forgot.”

  “But we’ll eat this.” Lex grabbed one. “Tell you what, Jenn. I’ll tell one of the web guys at my workplace. He has the kind of sense of humor that’ll do a good job making fun of the ‘mysterious Larry’s clothing’ all over San Jose State campus.”

  Venus had a cream-laden cat expression. “He’ll have to buy new underwear.”

  “You think?”

  “Do you really believe he had another load of laundry at his dorm? No, he took everything home for his mom to wash for him.”

  “You don’t feel just a little sorry for him?” Trish asked, although she didn’t look all that sorry.

  “Why should I? His own mother told him I was bringing his laundry to him, yet he told me to get rid of the bag. I told Aunty Glenda that, too.”

  Lex’s eyes grew round. “You did?”

  Jenn nodded, drizzling sauce over the steamed asparagus. “I called her when I was driving home. ‘Aunty, I don’t understand it, but Larry didn’t want the bag of laundry. He told me to get rid of it. So I gave it to a boy sitting on the steps of a house who said he could use the clothes.’” Jenn slid the platter onto the kitchen table. “She was a little surprised, but she told me thank you.”

  “Jenn, you are becoming downright devious.” Lex grabbed an asparagus with her fingers, then dropped it on her plate. “Hot!”

  “Use your fork, Neanderthal,” Venus told her. “So what are you going to do about the goat?”

  Jenn sighed. “I don’t know. Keep it, I guess.”

  Trish rolled her eyes. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder where your brain is. You’re a cook—you have a nursing goat.” Trish gave an Isn’t it obvious? twirl of her fork.

  All three cousins stared blankly at her.

  “Oh for goodness’ sake. What have the ‘girls’”—Trish gestured to her chest—“been producing for the past several months?”

  “Oooooh.” The lightbulb blazed in Jenn’s head. “How much milk does a goat produce a day? How do you milk a goat? Do I need to give her special food?”

  Silence around the table.

  Well, yeah, the audience wasn’t exactly farmers. “How can I find out?”

  Trish’s eyes lit up. “Edward.”

  “Edward?” “Who’s Edward?” Venus and Lex pounced on his name.

  “What would Edward know about goats?” Jenn asked Trish, ignoring them.

  “He mentioned his family makes artisan cheese, stupid. Remember?”

  “Who. Is. Edward.” Venus pinned Jenn and then Trish with a lethal boardroom glare that probably got all her subordinates at her company leaping to do her bidding.

  Trish regaled them with what had happened two days ago in Saratoga.

  “And you didn’t even tell us?” Lex squealed.

  “Did you at least get his digits?” Venus demanded.

  “Yeah, he gave me his card.”

  Trish clapped her hands. “He didn’t give it to me. That’s wonderful!” She beamed at his neglect of her.

  The stirring in her chest reminded her of the wee hours of Christmas morning, waiting for Mom and Dad to wake up so she could leave her bedroom and tear into her presents. Edward wasn’t exactly a present, but she looked forward to seeing him more than getting her Easy-Bake Oven.

  Maybe instead of giving Larry’s clothes to a bunch of sadistic frat boys, she should have thanked him.

  “Hello?”

  Edward’s voice made her insides feel like butter in a crepe pan. “Hi, it’s Jenn. Jennifer Lim. Remember me?”

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  No, not mere melted butter, but a cinnamon roll hot from the oven with iced sugar glazing dripping down the sides. “H-hi.”

  “I was hoping you’d call.”

  Now she felt like a total dweeb because she had called him because she needed something from him, not because she’d had the courage to call him earlier just to chat. Or casually suggest a date. Or verify he was single. Or ask him if he wanted children. “Um … I meant to call earlier but things have been a little crazy.”

  “The goats?”

  The stupid reason she hadn’t been able to see his winery? Yeah, those goats. “I’ve been trying to get rid of them but now I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  “I have time.”

  Oh good gracious, his voice made her want to pool on the floor.

  Get a hold of yourself, Jenn. You are independent. A business owner. Confident. She turned on her best Lauren Bacall impression. “Do you want me to tell you while you teach me how to milk her?”

  Somehow that seemed a lot sexier in her head.

  Luckily, he laughed. “I’d be happy to. I’m working on the back vineyards today but how about tomorrow morning?”

  “Uh … do you mind if my aunties are around?”

  “Why, do they bite?”

  “Noooo … but Aunty Makiko usually says whatever’s on her mind no matter who else is around to hear it, and she’ll probably rip me a new one for quitting my job and not working for my aunty’s restaurant.”

  “Whoa. That sounds almost as complicated as my brother asking two different girls to prom on top of Mama arranging for him to take one of her friend’s daughters.”

  Jenn laughed. “Did he really?”

  “Yup, so be sure to ask him when you meet him.”

  When, not if. The gooey feeling returned to Jenn’s stomach. “We’ll also be outside with the g
oat while my aunties will be inside helping Mom fold paper cranes for Trish’s wedding.”

  “I’ll be there.” He paused. “Did you want me to arrive early? Before they get there?”

  Give the man a gold star. “That would be great, if you don’t mind getting here at eight?”

  “See you then, Jenn.”

  Jenn collapsed on her bed, cradling her phone against her chest like a Bella pining for her vampire Edward. Maybe she could invite him to lunch. Because if she really wanted to induce him to kiss her, she didn’t think a good place was Pookie’s udder.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Not Edward, but her Aunty Makiko stood outside the front door looking like a schoolteacher about to take sadistic pleasure in breaking a wooden ruler over some student’s knuckles. Namely, Jenn’s.

  She whipped her hands behind her back. “Hi, Aunty. You’re early.”

  A few feet behind Aunty, Edward peered over their shoulders with a helpless shrug that dislodged the coil of rope he’d slung over his quite yummy shoulders. He silently mimicked a fist fight and getting socked in the jaw by the aunty wrestling to get to the door first.

  Jenn tempered her giggle into a smile, but it only seemed to deepen Aunty Makiko’s disfavorable glare. “Jennifer, I came early to speak to you.”

  The Kill Bill sword fight theme clicked on in her head.

  The last thing she wanted was to rehash her decision to not work for Aunty Aikiko in front of Edward, because this was going to get ugly. And while she was mentally preparing for a confrontation, she shrank from airing the dirty laundry in front of a guy who might just decide her stimulating company wasn’t worth her crazy, high-drama family.

  “Aunty, can we talk later? My friend Edward is here to help me with Pookie.” She gestured behind them.

  Edward’s eyebrows rose and he mouthed, Pookie? at Jenn, but when Aunty turned around, he smiled charmingly.

  Aunty Makiko gave him a long look that made his smile harden.

  Jenn’s teeth clenched. She was supposed to honor her elders but when they were this rude—! He’d dressed in old jeans and a faded shirt because he’d be helping her with a goat, after all, but there was no cause to stare like he’d come stark naked.

  Finally Aunty Makiko turned—no greeting to Edward—and passed Jenn into the house.

  Jenn chewed her lip and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Edward’s face was grave, but he tried to smile and shrug it off. “It’s not your fault.”

  But she had asked him to come here, it had happened on her front doorstep, and she was related to the woman. That was all.

  “Jenn, close the door, there’s a draft,” Aunty Makiko yelled from the living room.

  “Come in.” Jenn stepped aside so Edward could enter the house. “We’ll head straight into the backyard.”

  That was the plan, anyway. Aunty Makiko had other ideas.

  Mom, bless her heart, was trying to distract her. “Makiko, here’s the origami paper. Trish said her colors were pale green and peach, so I got both—”

  “Not now, Yuki,” she said irritably. “Jennifer, I need to talk to you.”

  “Mom, this is Edward Casti—”

  Aunty Makiko interrupted, “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  This was like a bad sitcom. “No, I don’t,” she said calmly.

  Mom’s eyes popped out of her head while Aunty Makiko’s nostrils flared. “What did you say?” she demanded in a horrible voice.

  Quaking in her Crocs wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so Jenn leaned on one foot and crossed her ankles to still the tremors. “I said—”

  “I heard what you said, you ungrateful child.”

  Jenn tried to damp down her irritation. What was with her family? Really! “How am I ungrateful?” Not to mention that being over thirty should mean her aunties would stop calling her “girl” and “child,” for goodness’ sake.

  “After all Aunty Aikiko has done for you—”

  “She didn’t do anything.” Jenn fought to talk through her tight jaw. “I paid for all my culinary schooling. I worked overtime to get my job done while taking classes. I put my schooling on hold while Mom went through chemo. Aunty Aikiko didn’t do a thing for me.”

  “She offered you a job at her restaurant!”

  As if that was on par with the Holy Grail. “And I refused. The problem with that is …?”

  Behind Aunty Makiko’s back, Mom tried to signal Jenn to shut up with a finger slicing across her neck.

  “She was expecting you to work for her,” Aunty Makiko said.

  “She never actually asked me. She simply assumed I was going to culinary school for the sole purpose of working for her.” Jenn caught Edward’s embarrassed eye. “We’ll be in the backyard, Mom.” She grabbed Edward and hauled him out of the living room.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she stomped down the back porch steps and stalked across the postage stamp backyard. “Aunty Makiko doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.”

  “I have an aunt like that,” he said. “Although Aunty Elena usually wants to talk about her latest gall bladder problems rather than scolding someone.”

  Jenn reluctantly smiled. “I’d prefer the gall bladder.”

  “Me too.”

  The goats sheltered under the apple tree (or what was left of it after eating all the low-hanging branches they could reach) where Jenn shoveled out their feed into the bucket. “Do I need to give Pookie anything extra now that she’s nursing?”

  Edward regarded her steadily for a long moment. “Pookie? Really?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Newsflash—I didn’t name her.”

  “True.” He reached into his back pocket and handed her a folded piece of paper. “I asked Aunty Lorena to write down what she fed her nursing goats so you can find it at the feed store.”

  “Thanks.” A man who read her mind? His one flaw was probably a tendency to fart at the dinner table or something like that.

  He unslung the rope from his shoulder. “Let’s tether her and see what she does.”

  To Jenn’s eyes, it seemed Pookie threw a major tantrum, but Edward said, “Good, looks like she’s been tethered before. She may have been milked, too.” He up-ended the empty feed bucket. “Sit.”

  Jenn eyed the close proximity to Pookie’s back leg. “You sit.”

  “I’m going to be at her other side to prevent her from kicking you.”

  “Oh.” Jenn sat.

  “Now grab the teat gently, don’t tug at it.”

  It felt leathery and foreign.

 

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