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“No, do not put it back here.” She frowns at me.
“Dejonae, you have to put just the right amount.” Ashanti’s smile is gentle but her tone holds way too much condescension for it to be genuine. “Not too much. Not too little. Just right.”
“Just… right…” I concentrate on adding the filling back to my wanton wrapper.
“It’s kind of like life,” Ashanti says, her voice a buzzing in my ear.
I cringe.
Why did I complain about the silence? Now I wish she’d just shut up.
But she keeps talking in that steady tone. “Not everything that walks in is the right fit. Some things are too big, too small.” She plops the perfect amount of filling in, showing off her skills. “It takes a special person to be ‘just right’.”
I don’t respond to her. If I do, I’d probably make an even more damaging first impression on Sazuki’s mom.
The wrapper is thin in my hand and keeps breaking.
The filling is raw.
I’m not sure if we should be cooking it or not before we put them into the gyoza wrappers. I don’t see Ashanti or Sazuki’s mom doing so and figure I’m okay.
When we’re done, Sazuki’s mom cooks the dumplings in a skillet until they’re golden brown.
The smell lures Niko into the kitchen.
“How did yours come out?” she signs.
“I think it came out well,” I sign back.
Sazuki soon follows, his nose in the air. “Almost done?”
“Yes.” Ashanti laughs and pats his hand. “You always were a sucker for gyoza.Remember when we first got married? That was the first recipe you wanted me to learn.”
Sazuki’s eyes dart to me.
I look away, a burning feeling in my chest.
She won’t get to me. She won’t get to me.
“Yes,” Sazuki’s mom says, “he has liked gyoza since he was a boy. At that time, we used to make enough gyoza for a full meal. He even asked for it on his birthday.”
“Oh, I know. When we were in Japan, I wanted to buy him a fancy gift for his birthday, and he told me not to bother. That he’d just eat gyoza and be happy.” Ashanti laughs until her eyes squeeze shut. “I got so angry at him because I wanted to do something big and he was asking for so little.”
The muscles in my jaw clench and unclench.
It’s their past.
Their history.
And it’s what resulted in Niko’s birth.
I don’t want to be jealous of it.
I don’t want to be the immature, younger girlfriend who can’t take a joke.
But I can’t hide how upset I feel.
Sazuki clears his throat. “We are hungry now. I will help you move the trays to the kitchen.”
