Chapter 32 #2
Jen’s laughing so hard that I think tears might stream from her eyes. “I can’t believe you just crashed his call with his mom like that.”
It’s late afternoon now, and I’m at home, chatting with Jen—who’s been staying at her parents’ place for the weekend—over FaceTime.
Jackson and I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon lounging around at his apartment. We showered together, watched TV while cuddling, and ordered takeout for lunch. It was the perfect cozy Sunday.
“What was I supposed to do? Let my man be set up with another girl? Not happening.”
“Your man,” Jen gushes. “I can’t believe you two are official now. It feels like yesterday, when it was high school and you two were bickering with each other. But I’m happy for you, Belle. You deserve this so much.”
I smile. “Thank you. You deserve happiness, too, Jen.”
A blush paints her cheeks. “I know.”
The intercom buzzes.
“Crap. I have to go,” I say. “Someone’s here.”
Jen clasps her hands together. “Maybe it’s Jackson paying you a surprise visit.”
“Maybe.” Though I don’t think it’s him since we already spent most of the day together. “Anyway, say hi to your parents for me!”
“Will do!”
After ending the call, I get up to answer the intercom.
“Hi, Isabelle.” It’s my mom’s voice. “Are you free?”
I freeze, unsure what to expect or why she’s here. I emailed Mom some of my designs for her to consider as gift options for her friend’s daughter, but we haven’t spoken in person since that night at my parents’ house.
She never shows up unannounced, nor does she do spontaneous plans.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “Yeah. I am.”
I buzz her up and stand at the door, taking quick breaths.
When I open the door a few minutes later, Mom’s standing there, holding a container, a tentative smile on her face. “I made dumplings.” She lifts the container. “Have you eaten yet? I thought we could have dinner together. Is Jen here, too?”
“Jen’s staying at her parents’ place this weekend,” I respond. “But dinner sounds great.”
“Great,” Mom says. There’s something in her eyes I don’t catch. “I’ll heat them up.”
She walks to my kitchen, and I reach for a pan and set the table while she heats the dumplings. I can’t remember the last time we had lunch or dinner together where it was just the two of us.
Once the food is ready, we settle into our seats.
Mom clears her throat. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had dinner together as mother and daughter.”
“Yeah.” I place a pork dumpling inside my mouth, the rich and savory taste wrapping around my tongue. “This is really delicious.”
When I was growing up, Mom didn’t cook much, and it was usually Dad who made our meals.
“It’s your grandmother’s recipe,” she says.
I nod, unsure what else to say, which probably says a lot about our relationship.
I’m not used to making small conversation with her, and there’s still an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
There has to be another reason why she’s here, aside from bringing food.
Maybe she’s here to talk about what happened at dinner last time.
We eat our meals, neither of us saying a word for the next several minutes.
Eventually, Mom’s the first to break the silence. “You know, your grandmother was strict on me growing up. She was also very vocal about certain decisions I made. For example, she didn’t like that I wanted to pursue my studies in the States. She wanted me to stay in Hong Kong.”
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out, and I’m left staring at her in surprise. She’s never opened up to me like this before.
“She also didn’t approve of me marrying your dad,” Mom adds. “She wanted me to marry someone from our culture.”
I’m again surprised by the revelation. When Ivy and I were kids, our family visited Hong Kong several times, and I never got the impression that our grandmother was ever against Mom’s marriage.
“But you still married him,” I say.
“Yes, and your grandmother would say that I was very stubborn.” Mom rests her elbows on the table. “She almost didn’t come to my wedding, but I think she realized how serious I was about your dad and changed her mind at the last minute.”
I bite my lip, putting down my chopsticks. “Why are you telling me this now?”
Mom glances at me, her voice quiet when she speaks. “Moving to a new country, entering the legal industry … it was hard, being seen as a foreigner and not being taken seriously, no matter how hard I worked.”
She takes a deep breath. “But I was determined to make a name for myself and do so by not relying on anyone else, not even your dad. That’s the reason I never changed my surname after marriage.
I was hard on myself and strived for nothing short of perfection, and that carried over to how I parented you and Ivy.
I told myself I wouldn’t repeat my mother’s approach, but I broke that promise and let my pride get in the way. ”
There’s a tingling in my chest as silence settles around us.
“All these years, I’ve felt like I wasn’t good enough,” I finally say, my voice thick with emotion. “That I’d never be good enough for you, no matter what I did or how hard I tried, because I hadn’t chosen the career path you’d wanted for me.”
Mom’s eyes turn watery, and I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve seen her cry.
“I’m sorry,” she says, voice hoarse.
“Mom,” I begin, but she gets up from her seat, pulling me into a hug.
“I am happy now that you’re bravely chasing your dream, Isabelle. And I’m happy for you and your boyfriend. I can tell he really cares for you.” There’s a crack in her voice. “That night when he came over, I said some hurtful things about you. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” I croak out. “Thank you for saying that and for apologizing.”
Mom lets go of her arms around me. “We should finish the rest of the dumplings before they go cold.”
For the first time in a long time, I give my mother a genuine smile. “Good idea.”