3
“Not again, Jia.”
Her mom dropped her shoulders, the air of exasperation and disappointment coming through the phone screen. Jia wasn’t sure
what she dreaded most: telling her mom the news or running out of the gelato she’d been comfort-eating all morning.
“It wasn’t my fault, Mom,” Jia tried to explain. But she didn’t have the words. As she replayed the meeting in her head, she
was certain that there had been a mistake. But it was all too overwhelming to process.
“Jia, companies don’t just fire employees without cause, even if they can.” Her mom was coming in with the combination parent-talk
and lawyer-speak. Great.
Both Jia’s mom and dad were lawyers. Not just any lawyers, but Harvard Law lawyers. Elected-officials lawyers. Our-reputation-is-everything
lawyers.
And Jia? She was their free-spirited, can’t-hold-a-job, doesn’t-know-what-she-wants-to-do-with-her-life, just-looking-for-a-good-time daughter.
She didn’t have the energy to get into it with Mom right now. She needed time to think. And she needed to come up with a plan
before . . .
“I think it’s time for you to move home.”
Too late, there it was. The words that were always waiting anytime Jia screwed up. A safety net that might seem comforting
to some but to Jia felt like a cage.
Jia was tired of being rescued. And their help and support always came with expectations and requirements.
No, she didn’t want her parents’ money or their demands. She wanted to show them she was able to take care of herself, while
living life the way she wanted to, doing what made her happy.
She just wasn’t sure what that was yet.
Jia was, as her parents put it, a miracle. They’d struggled with getting pregnant, and after multiple miscarriages, they’d
finally conceived via IVF. Her mother described her pregnancy as the hardest time of her life, and it didn’t help that after Jia was born she’d had early health issues.
Her parents raised her with the kid gloves of two people desperate to have a child and the iron fist of Korean expectations . . .
an odd and confusing combination. They wanted her to succeed, but they wanted her to do it their way.
But Jia was twenty-seven now. She was healthy now. She was out on her own now. And they had to let her live her life now.
If only Jia could convince them of that by, you know, not getting fired from her job.
“Florida isn’t my home, Mom. It never was.” This was the truth. Jia had grown up in New York. Her parents only moved to Florida a few years ago. But they tried to make her believe it was heaven on earth. She wasn’t buying it.
“Jia, do you understand the gravity of your situation? You don’t have a job. No income. No health insurance, for god’s sake.
Your credit is a mess.”
“How do you even know my credit score, Mom? Do you know how intrusive that is?”
“I wouldn’t have to meddle in your affairs if I could trust you to handle them. How do you expect to afford to keep living
in New York? You simply are not capable of taking care of yourself there on your own. It’s like you’re on a merry-go-round,
making the same mistakes over and over. But what you do now in your life impacts what you’re able to do later. At this rate,
you won’t be able to get bigger jobs. And you can forget ever being able to purchase a house for yourself. Come to Florida,
work for me and Dad, build the skills you need to succeed, then get back on your feet.”
Her mother loved a plan. Especially when it involved controlling Jia.
Everything sounded so reasonable.
It all sounded so stifling.
Maybe bigger jobs and buying a house weren’t what Jia wanted for herself. Maybe it never would be.
But Jia was just as tired of letting them down as they probably were. Surely, at some point, she would prove to her folks
that she could figure out her own life on her own terms and that would be enough to make them proud.
Right?
“I’ll get a new job,” she said with more confidence than she was feeling. With every failed job, her résumé made her look more and more unhirable. She wasn’t sure she’d have many more opportunities. If only she could find a job she loved doing, something that satisfied her.
And wasn’t that the dream?
“Jia, the reality is, as a woman, and an Asian woman at that, you don’t have the luxury to make mistakes. You have to work
twice as hard with half the amount of support and acknowledgment others receive. That also means you’re not afforded time
to figure things out.”
Jia closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She knew her mother was right, but it just didn’t seem fair. Was Jia supposed
to be on this hamster wheel for the rest of her life?
“Mom . . .” She didn’t know what she wanted to say.
“I’m going to have to put my foot down. You’re being irresponsible, and it won’t be tolerated. If you don’t find a new job,
one that will pay all your bills and afford you to stay in New York, then I’ll have to insist you come and live with me and
your father,” her mom said with her lawyer voice activated. “I won’t allow you to permanently damage your future by making
bad choices.”
“Just, give me thirty days, Mom. One month. And we’ll reassess. You can’t make me come. But I don’t want to be unreasonable
either. So yeah, let’s meet halfway on this.” Surely her mom could appreciate Jia’s negotiation skills.
Her mom’s jaw ticked as she narrowed her eyes at her daughter. Jia held her breath.
“Thirty days, Jia.”
Jia saw her future play out in her head. Florida. Suburbs. Living with her parents until she was fifty. Dressing in Talbots
like her mother. She shivered at the thought.
This would be her last shot. She wouldn’t be able to outnegotiate her lawyer mother after this. It was either find a job and get her life on track or lose the little autonomy she had to live it. One thing was for sure, Jia needed a plan. Her entire life depended on it.
“Jia, honey, we need to talk.”
The trauma from anyone coming at Jia saying We need to talk was real. Only very bad things came from a We need to talk.
We need to talk—we’re moving to Florida, leaving all your friends behind. High school will be miserable.
We need to talk—you need a new battery, air filter, and carburetor. It’ll cost a fortune.
We need to talk—I met someone else. It’s not you, it’s me. You’ll struggle to trust any man again.
We need to talk—you’re fired.
Jia sat up on her bed, pulling her threadbare Sailor Moon blanket with her, and looked into the eyes of her very best friend.
Lizzy stood in the doorway looking . . . concerned. Was she worried Jia wouldn’t be able to make rent? Because Jia was worried.
But she didn’t want to let that roll over on her friend.
Jia had been racking her brain on how to find a new job and stabilize her income.
Maybe she could start selling her clothes or something.
For someone who didn’t make a ton of money, Jia knew how to make use of what she had and find the best deals. Her most prized
possessions weren’t fine jewelry or first edition books—they were pieces of clothing. Dior black wool slacks she’d found on
consignment, a vintage Hermès silk scarf, and of course her Burberry trench coat bought at an estate sale of an heiress who
passed away and her family who had no idea about the treasures that they were selling for a steal from her Upper East Side
townhome. And don’t get her started on the shoes in her collection.
But she couldn’t part with any of it.
Jia was well-known for her particular sense of style.
The way Jia dressed impacted how she felt about herself and how she went about her day. And right now, she was wearing a ratty
Hanes undershirt that had been left behind by some guy she’d hooked up with last St. Patrick’s Day—Sam? Scott? Steve?—and
plaid pajama bottoms from when she was fifteen years old. Comfort clothing. Sad clothing. I’ve-given-up-for-now clothing.
Lizzy sat down, grabbed Jia’s hands, and squeezed.
Jia braced herself.
“Darcy has asked me to move in with him, and I have officially said yes.”
“Oh my god, Lizzy, that’s amazing!” Jia wrapped her arms around her best friend and sent her as much love as she could through
the embrace. Look, you didn’t have an Elizabeth and a Darcy dating each other and not expect an HEA. C’mon. As if. “I’m so,
so happy for you guys. One step closer to that dream wedding in Montauk. But if you two could take it a bit slower so I have
time to save up some money for a gorgeous bridesmaid dress, that would be appreciated.”
She pulled back to see Lizzy with only a sixty-percent smile on her face.
“I don’t want to pressure you, but what are your plans?”
Jia closed her eyes. She didn’t have plans. She just had problems. She’d applied to some jobs she found online today. But
she wasn’t hopeful.
“The super said there’s already someone looking for an apartment in this building,” Lizzy explained. “Do you want me to tell
him it’s available? Or find someone to take over my room on the lease? Or . . .”
Or Jia could take over the lease herself? Not happening.
Or Jia could move out and look for a new place? In this market? Impossible.
Did Jia have any other options left?
“Darcy said he has a friend who may need a roommate for the summer. He could ask for you? Or maybe we can ask Jenny’s coworker
who just bought that place with the extra bedroom?”
“In Staten Island?” She tried to cover up her disdain. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Jia was most definitely the beggar
in this scenario. But still—Staten Island? “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”
“Or, don’t hate me for suggesting it, but you could take your parents up on their offer and maybe go home for a little bit?
Just until you get on your feet,” Lizzy suggested. Lizzy’s shoulders were up to her ears, and she’d forced out every premature
wrinkle on her face as she grimaced. It pained her to even say it, Jia could tell.
“Florida is not my home,” she said. “And that’s just not an option. It’s signing away my freedom.”
Lizzy nodded in understanding. She’d met Jia’s parents. She knew what a lifetime of their disapproval and disappointment had
done to Jia.
“Well, let’s not worry about it tonight. I have the coupon for the half-off pizza at Joey’s. Pepperoni and jalapenos sound
good?” Lizzy suggested, changing the subject. “It’s on me.”
“Sounds perfect,” Jia said, trying not to let the stress and sudden concern for where she was going to live in the near future overwhelm her.
Not tonight when she wanted to be celebrating her best friend’s good news.
“But I can cover my half. That way we don’t have to fight over who gets the leftover cold pizza in the morning.
” Jia tried to smile. Her life had been reduced to wondering if she could afford half-price pizza split between two.
As Lizzy went to the other room to order the pizza, Jia pulled the covers over her head and blocked out the rest of the world.
She hated feeling low and desperate like this.
When was the last time that Jia had actually felt like herself? Free? Truly happy?
A memory of her first two-piece swimsuit, a grape Popsicle in hand, palm trees in the skyline, laughter with a loving face
with tiny, beautiful crow’s-feet around her eyes accentuating the joy. Mimi.
There wasn’t one memory tied to her grandmother in Palm Springs that didn’t make Jia smile. Her grandmother loved and accepted
Jia for who she was. Never tried to squeeze her into any box to contain her. Always wanted her to explore, be loud, question,
enjoy.
Jia quickly sat up in her bed and scrolled down her Contacts list. She hadn’t been back to Palm Springs in years. Holidays
and family gatherings happened mostly in Florida now. She missed it so much. And maybe this was the exact sign she needed.
She could either stay here in New York and wallow in her failures, paralyzed over what to do next as the clock ticked down,
or . . . she could escape to the desert. She could go and regroup, breathe, relax. She was too emotionally constipated right
now. She needed to get away.
Jia pictured herself sitting by the pool, the smell of coconut sunscreen filling her nose, the vitamin D of the sun’s rays
energizing her, inviting all the good juju to come her way. A full inbox with job offers once she let go of the pressure and
stress of needing one. Make it so!
She pressed the Call button before she could chicken out. She needed to ask before she could tell herself she shouldn’t be burdening her grandmother. She’d burdened enough people as of late.
Mimi’s voice answered after only one ring.
“Jia, how’s my best girl doing?” Mimi asked.
“Mimi, I’m sorry to bother you. But I was wondering if I could ask a favor?” Jia said.
“Well, okay then, right down to business. Lay it on me. Anything for you. You know that.”
“I was wondering—is that spare bedroom of yours free? And if so, how’d you like some company for the next few weeks out there
at The Sunset?”