Chapter 3
Aya
The Love Hollow historic downtown was made for tourists, though they usually only had an influx in the summer months, and in recent years, that tide had slowed to a trickle.
The streets were full of historic buildings, and after the mall had closed, some of the storefronts had been rehabilitated.
Throughout that time, the Changs had kept their restaurant going, and they had always lived in the two-bedroom upstairs.
One of the problems with their relatively small apartment was a lack of kitchen space, so they used the restaurant for all their personal cooking.
That virtually guaranteed that anyone who dropped in would get to eat amazing food. Twyla led them right in the back door, and Mama Chang fussed over all of them.
“Only three of you,” she said. “Not eight! You won’t be lucky.”
Twyla gave a wry grin. “Emi is lucky, I guess? Right?”
Mama Chang understood immediately. “Ah, Emi! Yes, you did get married, you lucky girl. But you married so quickly! What? You didn’t want your friends to be bridesmaids? Why the rush? No shotgun wedding. I can see that. You’re too skinny.”
Emi gave a tight smile. “It was an efficient wedding. I didn’t have that much time between finishing residency and starting work.”
“Enough time to get married,” said Mama Chang.
Twyla, ever the reporter, gave her a curious look. “I’m sure there’s more to that story, Emi.”
“If there is,” said Emi a little sharply, “I don’t plan on sharing it.”
Mama Chang only smiled, shaking her head as she walked back to the kitchen.
Twyla sat back, looking stung. She might be a reporter, but Aya knew that Emi had always been gentle with her. Aya looked between them for a moment.
“Emi,” she said slowly. “Why did you come back?”
For the first time, Aya realized that Emi was in a very tender moment. She was a newlywed. Yet almost as soon as she returned from her brief honeymoon, Emi had come back to Love Hollow alone. Why isn’t she with Charles, cherishing the rare moments of time they might spend together?
“I came for you,” insisted Emi. “What are you still doing here, Aya? My education took forever, but it’s over now. What happened to yours?”
Aya was silent for a minute. “We’re only twenty-eight,” she said. “Lots of people finish doctorates in their forties.”
“You’re not lots of people,” said Twyla. “Xiexie, Mama Chang!”
The women gave a chorus of thank-yous as a scallion pancake appeared on the table.
It had arrived so quickly that either Baba Chang had made it while Mama Chang interrogated the newlywed, or they were simply serving up the food intended for their own breakfast. But Aya knew it would be useless to protest.
The pancake was quickly followed by three bowls of tomato-and-egg-noodle soup. Aya, Emi, and Twyla had been raised on Japanese and American cuisine, so they couldn’t handle it when Mama Chang made dishes that were authentically spicy. They loved the blander Chinese staples, though.
“I don’t have time to finish my doctorate,” said Aya. “I’m running the museum singlehandedly.”
Twyla hid her grin as she slurped noodles, but Aya noticed.
“You don’t need to say anything,” she snapped.
Twyla winked. “I get it! No comment. Speaking of which, do you think you could get that sizzling celebrity to agree to be interviewed on camera?”
“He doesn’t do interviews on camera,” said Aya. “He’s self-conscious about his stutter. He’ll let you record him but only if he trusts you not to use it.”
“Wow, you sure do know a lot of details,” said Emi. “Are you sure you haven’t been in touch?”
“Everybody knows all that,” snapped Aya. “It’s all over social media.”
Twyla and Emi gave each other a look.
“Oookay,” said Twyla, putting down her chopsticks. She always ate quickly. Aya put it down to her status as a thin person. Twyla never ate slowly, took small bites, or pretended to have a delicate appetite. Why would she?
Aya, on the other hand, had learned that so-called “curves” were perilous in the real world.
When she had dessert, it was in the privacy of her home.
She only ate well with friends, not with colleagues, and definitely not on dates.
In fact, a few years ago, she had deleted all of her dating apps, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction as the last one disappeared from her phone.
What’s the point of giddy vulnerability anyway?
She had tried falling in love, and it had ended poorly.
Besides, there was little point in aiming for marriage as some kind of end goal when it statistically would mean lots of stress and a shortened life expectancy for her.
Only the constant successes she found in academia had been a balm for her brief foray into serious dating in high school.
There was no dignity if you had to leave your study carrell and go scramble around, trying to make yourself attractive and uncomfortable.
“If Noah’s not going to be interviewed, I at least need some sort of local interest puff piece,” said Twyla.
“Why aren’t they having you do the hard news?” Emi asked.
Twyla shrugged. “I was on sports before this. If I have to go to one more Rangers game, I can’t answer for the consequences.”
The Love Hollow Rangers were the high school football team, and Aya gave a weak smile at the thought. “If I got you on camera insulting the Rangers, that would be a local-interest story.”
“Then I wouldn’t have to quit my job. I’d be fired.”
“Or killed,” Emi agreed.
“So, an interview? An exclusive with the fabulous and gorgeously single Noah Kato?” asked Twyla, fluttering her eyes at Aya.
“Don’t you have a conflict of interest?” asked Aya.
Twyla and Emi grinned at each other again.
“Not as much as you do. Tell me—are you going to wear something nice when you go meet your high school sweetheart?”
Aya shook her head. “No idea who you mean. As you may recall, I was perennially single in high school. Oh, and what a coincidence! I still am.”
Emi, the newlywed, had apparently turned into an old matchmaker as soon as she finished saying her vows. “You and Noah were perennially crushing on each other in high school,” she said. “Weren’t they, Twy?”
“It was disgusting,” confirmed Twyla. “Way grosser than if you’d been in an actual relationship.”
Aya finished her noodles. As dignified as she liked to seem, she never had any restraint around Mama Chang’s cooking. Even in high school, when she was mortified by her appearance, gathering with her friends to make dumplings in the Changs’ kitchen always made her feel better about it all.
“I need to get back to work,” she said. “Twyla, find another interview subject. And Emi, stop grinning. It makes you look ridiculous. Come help me unpack the shirts for the Pilgrimage.”
“Ooh, are you going to wear one later when you meet Noah?” shouted Twyla as they walked away.
Aya pretended not to hear.