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“What about it?”
“They’d be mixed.”
“They’d be beautiful,” Ashanti snapped.
Mrs. Zhang was too busy balking at the thought to notice that Ashanti was dipping into the last of her patience. “Would they be black? Would they be Chinese? What would people say?”
“Are you that afraid of what others think?”
“I’m afraid of the future you represent.”
“A future where love is the only thing that matters? That doesn’t seem so bad.”
“You’re idealistic. Do you think marriages are built on love?” Mrs. Zhang laughed. “Read that in a storybook?”
Ashanti resented Mrs. Zhang’s condescension, but chose to ignore it. “You disagree?”
“In real life, romantic moments aren’t accompanied with sparkles.” She thrust her hands out like mini fireworks. “Marriage is built on a common foundation. A similar set of values. A shared worldview.”
“All of which Luke and I have.”
“You cannot,” Mrs. Zhang thundered. “You and Luke did not grow up the same way. We have a culture that is vastly removed from yours. So much so that you cannot even begin to understand.”
“Whether that’s true or not doesn’t matter. Isn’t it Luke’s choice? Don’t you trust that you raised him well enough to choose the right partner?”
“Of course not. For all his good qualities, Luke is still a man and subject to the cunnings of a woman, whether she is black or not.”
Her head throbbed. Ashanti leaned back wearily. “I will never be more than the color of my skin to you, won’t I? This,” she held her hand up and ran a finger over her brown wrist, “is all you can see.”
Mrs. Zhang narrowed her eyes, but her tone was soft, pleading. “I beg you, Ashanti. Leave my son alone.”
“Okay… get on your knees.”
“What?”
“If you want to beg properly, get on the ground and ask me the right way.”
Mrs. Zhang’s face paled and then grew red in such quick motions if Ashanti blinked she would have missed it. She shot to her feet, her chin trembling in outrage. “How dare you?”
Ashanti unfolded herself from the couch and stood too. “I’ve got to warn you though. Even if you beg me, I won’t let him go.”
Mrs. Zhang raised her hand to slap her.
Ashanti snatched her wrist and dragged the woman close, her fury sizzling just below the surface of her skin. “No, I gave you a chance to talk. Now you listen. My name is Ashanti. I am black. And I am not ashamed of who I am or the color God gave me.”
Mrs. Zhang’s jaw dropped. She struggled and yelled, “Let me go!”
“You might think your precious son is above me,” Ashanti said, holding on, “but the truth is he sees me as his equal and so do I.”
“I said let—”
Ashanti tossed her hand down before she finished the instruction. “Luke is not a bird, and I am not a fish. We are both human beings. I think you’d feel much better if you remembered that.”
Mrs. Zhang smoothed the sides of her black hair and then ran her hands over the seams of her dress. Her nose flared and anger burned from her dark eyes. “You will never be a part of my family.”
“And I would never want a mother-in-law like you.”
The women stared each other down for a second. At last, Mrs. Zhang spun with a huff and stormed toward the door. She pulled the knob and yanked it with such force the door banged against the wall.
