Chapter 2 Izzy
IZZY
Mama is incandescent with rage the whole drive home from the restaurant.
Papa is silent, which is somehow worse. His silences are sharp, a cruel slice scything through the air, killing all conversation.
But since Mama and Papa are both angry about the same thing, his silence doesn’t bother her.
She rails nonstop during the twenty-minute journey.
“Why would she do this tonight? Right now? At Chinese New Year?” Mama hisses, her hands balling into fists. “What was she thinking? There were business partners there. Clients! Investors!”
I stare out of the car window as we pass by skyscraper after skyscraper, not really taking in any of the scenery.
To be honest, I pretty much have the same questions that Mama is asking, though perhaps without the rage.
Next to me, Troy is busy typing on his phone.
I glance at the screen and see that he’s on the cousins’ group chat.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and open up the chat group.
As expected, everyone is basically echoing Mama’s tirade.
I tuck the phone back into my pocket. I don’t have anything to say to my cousins. I rarely do.
When Papa finally speaks, his voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “It might be time for us to call for a board meeting to discuss succession.”
Mama stops mid-sentence. There’s a pregnant pause. She takes in a sharp breath. “I…”
“Her behavior is becoming erratic. And for a company like ours, that isn’t a good look.”
My stomach twists at Papa’s words. Words I have grown up hearing over and over. For a company like ours…You must think about the family name…You can’t behave like this…
For years, I’d wished that Troy or one of my cousins would misbehave.
Plenty of them went through their own rebellious phases, but they did so in more socially acceptable ways.
The kind of rebellion that my aunts and uncles could laugh about and be secretly proud of.
“He got caught smoking at school!” “She led a whole protest!” They were reprimanded once or twice, but my generation on the whole is well adjusted. With the exception of myself.
Now that I’m hearing these words being muttered about someone other than me, I don’t feel any of the joy and vindication I’d always imagined I would.
All I feel is my chest tightening, like my rib cage is closing into a fist. I love Nainai, and I don’t know what is going on, and I’m so scared about Papa being right.
That her behavior is erratic, and that maybe it’s indicative of a bigger problem.
What if this is the beginning of the end, her mind deteriorating to the point where she no longer knows her own name?
Tears sting my eyes and I take in a shuddery breath as quietly as I can manage.
“I’ll set up a family meeting,” Mama says quietly, and somehow, the heavy sorrow in her voice is worse than her blazing tirade.
· · ·
Once I’m in my room, I peel off my unforgiving qipao and underwear and toss them onto a chair before stepping into the shower.
I stand under the scalding stream of water for a long time, hoping the heat will mellow out my mind.
But even as my muscles relax, my thoughts continue scurrying around in my head.
Flashes of the celebration tonight—everybody freezing when Nainai kissed the woman, most of them looking shocked, but a few of them appearing openly revolted.
Uncle Chase and his wife, Auntie Lin. My cousin Kadence.
There must’ve been more, but when I saw the look on Kadence’s face, something inside me shattered and I ran for the bathroom.
I vaguely heard Nainai saying something, probably introducing the woman, but I didn’t catch the actual words.
They were quickly drowned out by the scandalized whispers anyway.
Me splashing cold water on my face, avoiding my own reflection in the mirror.
My ragged breaths. My anger. And shame. I wasn’t sure why I was angry.
I’m still not sure, right now, but I can still feel it, that anger pulsing hot and slow deep in my chest. I’ve never liked Kadence.
But I’m also inexplicably angry at Nainai.
Sighing, I turn off the shower and step out.
I groan into the towel as I dry myself. The shower has done nothing to calm me.
I shouldn’t be surprised; when I’m filled with anxious, frenetic energy like this, the only thing that works is a long walk.
It’s been this way since I was ten and realized I wanted to kiss my best friend Natalie on the lips.
But the past year or so, it’s gotten worse.
I don’t know if the walks are going to cut it for much longer, because there’s a part of me that whispers, Keep walking.
Walk out of the housing complex and keep going. Walk until they can’t find you.
I try to shake off the thoughts as I shrug on a shirt and pants.
I press my ear to the door. The soft thumping of music from Troy’s room and nothing from Mama and Papa’s, which means they’ve gone to bed.
The coast is clear. Still, I never liked to go through the front door at times like these, even though no one would know.
There’s just something about climbing out of my window and slithering down the drainpipe that adds a whole other layer of “This is mine, and mine alone.” One of these days, I’ll slip and break an arm, or a leg, but even that risk is worth taking for this feeling alone.
Before my feet even reach the ground, there’s the familiar surge of relief. I swear even the cells in my body are expanding, collectively releasing their nervous choke hold on me. I take a deep breath, fill my lungs with the cool night air.
“There you are,” someone says.
I sputter for a second or two. Because of course I’d know that voice anywhere.
It’s the voice I’ve grown up with. My nainai.
I’m supposed to say something. Greet her.
She’s still my elder after all. But nothing comes out.
All I can do is stare dumbly as she detaches herself from the shadows and beckons at me.
“Come, mensheng, walk with me.”
I half frown, half smile at her. “Mensheng?”
“It means ‘protégé.’ ” She starts strolling down the street, so I’m left with no choice but to scamper after her.
When I catch up, I give her a look. “I think it’s clear by now that whatever I am, it’s definitely not your protégé.”
She returns the look with her own arched eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Uh, let’s see…” I hold up a thumb. “One, you’re a badass boss bitch and I’m not.”
She chuckles.
I hold out my index finger. “Two, everyone knows Laura’s going to be your successor.”
“Yes. So?”
“Isn’t that the very definition of ‘protégé’?”
Nainai frowns. “Is it? I suppose if you’re thinking about it specifically in terms of the company, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of.”
“Oh.” Well, now I feel stupid, which makes me feel defensive. “But why wouldn’t it be about the family company? Everything revolves around the family company. Everything.”
“Yes, the company has a tendency of doing that, doesn’t it? I never meant for it to get so big and overwhelm everything else,” she says, and there’s a surprising note of wistfulness in her voice.
I can’t help but give her a wry smile. “Oh yes, poor you, you accidentally built an empire.”
She laughs. “There’s the spark I know and love. I haven’t seen it in a while.”
That wipes any traces of a smile off my face. I cast my gaze down and focus on my feet. Left, right. One step at a time.
After a long, heavy silence, Nainai says, “So. What did you think of my girlfriend?”
I snort.
“You didn’t like her?” There’s no admonishment in her voice, only pure curiosity.
I manage a shrug, and I know I’m being the stereotypical surly teen, but really, what does she expect me to say?
“Well, I like her very much, and I hope that you—”
“You can’t have a girlfriend, Nainai!” I burst out, and the amount of venom I put into the word “girlfriend” takes even me by surprise.
Nainai, as usual, remains unflappable. Sometimes, I wonder if she came out of the womb unfazed, blinking out at the world and thinking to herself: Oh, is this what all the fuss is about? Now she raises her eyebrows at me and says, so innocently, “Why not?”
I am the literal opposite of unflappable as I flap my arms. “Because! You—you’re old!”
“That’s ageist.”
“You know what I mean! I—you—you’re a grandmother.”
“And grandmothers can’t have girlfriends?”
“No!” I cry. Then I realize how stupid it sounds. “I don’t know. Just. You have nine grandkids and one of them is about to have a baby, so you’re about to be a great-grandmother—”
“Still ageist. Really, Izzy, I expected more from you.”
“Argh! You know what I mean.” I hate how petulant I sound.
“Yes.” She smiles at me. “I know what you mean. It’s unexpected from someone like me. Unsettling.”
I nod.
“But who made these rules, anyway? Who decided that women in their seventies don’t get to have girlfriends?”
“I don’t know. Society?”
Nainai gives a mirthless laugh. “Society. I think I’ve had enough of pleasing societal demands, haven’t you?
You know, I always tried so hard to raise your mother to have that same attitude, but…
I guess peer pressure’s a hell of a thing.
Maybe it’s her way of rebelling against me.
But I have a feeling that, like me, you’re sick of trying to meet societal expectations, am I right? ”
God, what the hell do I say to that? I’m so nervous, feel so exposed, that I might actually throw up.
My mind races through all possible answers and settles on: Answer the question with another question!
Brilliant. Yes. Turn it around, make it all about her.
Deflect, then go on the offense. “What do you know about living your life according to societal demands? You’ve always done whatever the hell you wanted to do. ”
“Is that really what you think?”
“Uh, yeah! And it’s not even just tonight. Mama always told me that whatever you wanted, you got, and to hell with what other people might say.” I wonder if the envy is coming out painfully clear in my voice.
For a split second, I wonder if I’ve finally hurt my grandmother. Did I go too far? Is she going to tell me I’m a spoiled, unfilial grandchild and she’s cutting me out of her will or whatever?
But then Nainai throws her head back and laughs, a deep, throaty sound.
The kind of laugh that doesn’t give a shit whether anyone hears it or not.
“Oh, Izzy. Well, I’m glad you think that.
It means I’ve done some things right, after all.
But believe it or not, I wasn’t always like that.
In fact, when I was your age, I was…” She takes a long, slow breath and turns her eyes up at the shimmering sea of stars above us.
Sixteen years ago, the entire world finally managed to get down to zero emissions.
Without tons of carbon being chugged into the air, the stars have become so achingly clear again.
It’s one of the reasons why I love my nighttime walks.
Some nights, when it all gets to be too much, when I feel the weight of my family and culture and everything crushing down on me, I like to look at the stars and imagine myself swimming among them, a tiny speck in the endless multitude of possibility.
I like feeling minuscule. It’s a good reminder that my problems don’t matter.
Not really. Not in the vast expanse of the universe.
I wonder if Nainai’s lost in the same kind of thoughts I have.
Though she’s standing right next to me, she looks so far away, like she’s in a different time and place altogether.
Her expression is soft and slightly…lost. I’ve never seen her like this before; usually she’s razor sharp and alert.
A chill prickles down my arms, raising goose bumps.
What if Papa and Mama were right about Nainai losing her mind?
I gently guide her back to the present. “Nainai, you were saying? When you were my age?”
She turns to meet my eyes, and my breath catches in my throat.
I was wrong. She wasn’t lost. She’s been right here all along, and for just an impossible sliver of time, I catch a flash of what she was like back then, brimming with youth and vitality and so incredibly beautiful.
She smiles, and I can see her smiling as a teen, fresh and untamed, the world at her feet.
“Take my arm, Izzy. I’ll tell you all about it.”
I link my arm through hers, and together, we walk into the dark.