Page 108 of Strictly Against Policy

I nodded. He gave me a reassuring smile, reaffirming everything would be fine. I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. Instead, I cried. In what felt like seconds, my visitation was over.

Jonathan, Mary, and Eric were waiting outside the jail for moral support. What surprised me the most was how my mom was speaking to my boyfriend. She was polite and well-mannered, with such a measured speech that I had to stop and observe from afar. I wasn’t used to her being this timid. She even looked embarrassed to see him again as she quickly turned to Mary and Eric, asking them why they weren’t having children yet.

She had yet to apologize to me about what she did and caused at the pharmacy. She never would. I’d lived with her long enough to know this would always be how my mother was. Jonathan was kind enough to let it go.

He also urged me to do the same, and if I needed to for my peace, I could always love her and my family from afar. Seeing her behave this way around Jonathan, though, I was glad she was self-aware enough to be uncomfortable and unlike her usual self around him.

My dad, on the other hand, was never much of a talker. For much of my life, he had always been a passive parent. He was present, yes. However, he also never did much aside from enabling my mother and allowing her to do as she liked. Yet, I knew he was trying his hardest to engage in a conversation with Jonathan as well.

Mai stood the furthest from everyone, disengaged and disinterested.

“You and Lina went to high school together?” my dad said, shocked.

“Yes,” Jonathan answered.

“Have you two been dating this whole time?” asked my dad.

“No, sir,” answered my boyfriend. “Lina and I have only been together for a month.”

My dad nodded slowly. Mary and Eric attempted not to smile at the obvious way he was sizing up my boyfriend. Jonathan looked crisp and clean-cut with a fresh haircut, button-up, slacks, and leather Oxford shoes.

I told him not to worry about dressing to impress. However, he insisted, saying he didn’t leave a great first impression on my mom with his rude interaction with her at the pharmacy. I suppose it was for the best that he looked good, now that my dad was assessing him.

“Dad. Mom,” I said, approaching them.

My parents turned to me. My mom’s eyes welled with tears while my dad nodded at me. We didn’t say anything to each other as I nodded back with similarly teary eyes. Without a doubt, Neng said some similar things to the rest of our family.

“Let’s all go eat,” suggested my dad. He looked at Jonathan, Mary, and Eric. “All you kids come and eat with us, too.”

“I’m not going to,” Mai interjected. “If you guys are going to go anywhere besides home, then that’s on you. I’ll be going home.”

“Mai, don’t say those sorts of things,” said my mom. “We’re all here. We might as well go and have a meal together.”

“No, you guys can go without me,” Mai nearly hissed like some angry animal. She turned her pointed gaze to me and arched a darkly filled brow at me. I looked into those same round eyes I shared with her. “You can take Mom and Dad home. I’m heading home.”

“That’s fine,” I said.

Her lips tugged into a snarl before she turned, storming away with heavy footsteps. I watched her walk toward the parking structure with steam practically trailing behind her. My heart ached at what our relationship had become and at what it may never be.

We were never close because of our age gap. Since she married young, we never had the chance to truly bond. We had little in common, except sharing the same parents and a brother. We never enjoyed the same things, and I couldn’t remember the last time we talked about anything other than family-related topics—which was fine. However, I’d always wished I was close to my older sister. She was the one who gave me my name, after all.

I hoped one day Mai would understand my actions, why I didn’t want to give Neng the money he wanted. He had a problem our family didn’t want to admit he had. I was the only one insisting he go to rehab—a cost I was willing to shoulder—and pushing him to attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

No one else did or even wanted that. Until now.

I turned to my parents. “Jonathan and I will take you home later, Dad, Mom,” I said. “Where would you two like to eat?”

My mom waved her hand shyly. “Wherever all you kids choose.”

“You know us, Lina. We’re not picky eaters,” said my dad, also waving his hand dismissively.

That wasn’t true. My immigrant Hmong parents were, in fact, very picky eaters. The only restaurants they’d dine in without a single complaint were either Southeast Asian or Chinese cuisine. No pasta. No steak. Definitely no bread. It had to be food and dishes they were familiar with, especially dishes with rice. I had a mental list of restaurants I knew they enjoyed and was ready to suggest one when Jonathan spoke up.

“How about Imperial Garden?” he asked me, listing only the fanciest and best dim sum restaurant in town. He looked over to Mary and Eric as well. Both were giving him the thumbs up.

My dad loved the soy sauce and oyster sauce braised chicken feet from that restaurant, and my mom loved their fluffy barbecue pork buns. They would love it since we only went there on rare occasions. It’d be a treat for them to go there today after such an emotional afternoon.

I smiled softly and nodded. “Jonathan suggested we go eat Chinese,” I said to my parents.