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She hadn’t bumbled into us. She could have easily avoided this encounter. Every previous indication she’d given said that was her preference. And yet here she was, claiming this patch of land for Spain. I abandoned all hope of understanding this woman for what must have been the fiftieth time.
Mom craned her head forward. None of us knew what she was doing until the gesture stirred something deep and lost in my father. He pecked her on the cheek and then they both returned to their stations.
“Androu, this is Genie’s mother,” Dad said. He meant to gently prod my classmate forward, but the motion resembled a Spartan raising his shield against a hail of stones.
Androu gallantly bent at the waist to shake her hand. “Hello Mrs. Lo. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Mom was mildly placated in the sense that the new person she had to greet was at least polite and handsome. But then Androu, that sweet summer child, ruined all hope of a clean escape.
“I’d love to take you and Genie up on that offer for dinner at your place,” he said. “I hear your cooking is legendary.”
In his mind he was only continuing the last conversational thread we had. He had no idea what boundaries he was stepping over.
“Oh, so she’s making invitations to people I’ve never met now,” Mom said. She turned to me like a doll in a horror movie. “I suppose I can’t decline, can I?”
Dad rushed in to try and douse the flames, but he was holding a jug of gasoline, not water. “Androu is Genie’s very good friend,” he said. With emphasis on the very good.
This did not compute with Mom. According to her programming, there was only ever supposed to be one boy at a time holding the Most Favored Nation spot. Preferably the same boy throughout my entire life.
“I thought Quentin was your very good friend,” she said.
This was new. Tonight I got to discover the face Mom made when she thought I was being a hussy. Never mind the fact that her idea of promiscuity would be outdated in Victorian England.
“Quentin?” Dad said. “Who’s Quentin?”
“I see now why you didn’t want to invite him,” Mom said. “It would expose the double life you’ve been leading.”
Androu, still out of sync, postured up valiantly at the mention of Quentin’s name. “Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Lo. If that guy’s still bothering Genie at school, I’ll put a stop to it. She can count on me. Right?” He nudged me with his elbow.
He was prodding a corpse.
My soul had left my body a long time ago. It had flown to the top of Mount Can’t Even, planted its flag, and dissipated into the stratosphere.
An usher came over and told us it was time for the performance to start. We all made shows of pulling out our tickets, as if they contained our queue spots for a kidney. Androu smiled and bumped my stub with his.
“Oh hey,” he said. “I think we’re sitting together!”
Androu and I went in first while Mom made her last-minute hellos to Yunie’s parents. We picked our way through the narrow aisles like cranes in the mud until we found our seats.
The chair backs in front of us were too close, and they jammed our knees to the side. Tall people problems. He and I had that in common at least.
Androu chuckled to himself.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s just—sorry if I’m being offensive, but that whole thing with your Mom and Dad out there. It felt like the stereotype was true. Asian parents not really showing a lot of affection in public.”
I thought of the way Mr. and Mrs. Park clutched each other for comfort tonight, the way they loved to gross out Yunie whenever possible by cuddling and kissing in front of me when I visited.
I remembered a fleeting dream in a fairyland tale, where my dad had chased my mom around a fountain trying to put a mouse-eared hat on top of her head while I watched and laughed and laughed.
Maybe I had been subconsciously trying to Parent Trap them into speaking again. Who knew.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, the vowels stuck in my throat. “You know what they say.”
Mom came in and immediately made a disapproving click. There was no way for me and Androu to avoid our legs touching each other. We were leg-making-out right next to her. Had we no shame?
Androu tried to help her settle in. “Where’s Mr. Lo—”
