Page 11 of Four Aunties and a Wedding

“Yeah.” I hand it to her and watch as she turns it over in her hand.

“Huh. I’ve toyed with the idea of getting one, but I’m more of a pepper spray girl myself.” She gives it back to me. “And yeah, I’m pretty sure you can’t take one of these on a plane.”

“I know. I should’ve realized it sooner, but I’ve just been so distracted by everything else I never thought—”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate. It’s okay to forget.”

“Well, it’s not just that.” I sigh, leaning against the sink and running my fingers across the angular edges of the Taser. “This thing, it’s saved my life. Like, literally saved my life.”

Staphanie’s eyes go wide. “Wow.”

“Yeah. I was on a date, and the guy tried to—uh.” I’m revealing too much. I should stop.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Her expression is aghast.

“It’s okay. Nothing happened. I just—I managed to get away.” My mind can’t help careening back to the worst night of my life. I’d saved myself only by Tasing my attacker, who later died of—uh, other reasons.

“Still. To be in that situation in the first place, that must have been terrifying. I was in a similar situation once. Back in college, I went to frat party and—yeah, things got a bit out of hand. Luckily, my cousin had a spray deodorant on him. It works almost as well as pepper spray, you know, especially if you hit them right in the eye.”

“Wow, lucky your cousin was there.”

Staphanie’s smile wavers. “Yeah. We were really tight. He was my age.”

“Was? I—oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Anyway, I haven’t left the house without my pepper spray since. Well, except for now. It’s illegal in England, can you believe it? But I’ve packed a perfume bottle in my check-in luggage that’s filled with alcohol and cayenne pepper. Tell you what, when we get to England, first thing we’ll buy is a spray bottle and I’ll give you half.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t take your homemade pepper spray solution.”

Staph laughs. “Yes, you can. There’s way too much of it formyself. What am I going to do, spray the whole of England’s male population? Realistically speaking, I won’t even go through a single spritz before the whole thing loses its potency and I have to throw it out.”

“Okay,” I say reluctantly. “Thank you. That helps.” Huh. It actually does. Who would’ve thought? I give her hand a grateful squeeze. “I’m so glad we’re friends.” It’s so weird that even though I’ve only known her for five months, I feel like Staph and I have known each other for ages.

“Me too,” she says. “And now, let’s go turn this Taser in before TSA finds it on you and arrests you.”

4

Nathan arrives at the boarding gate a scant ten minutes before we’re due to board, slightly out of breath, with his hair looking deliciously rumpled.

“Aiya, you finally arrive,” Ma scolds, patting his shoulder with obvious affection. “Plane almost leave you. We tell them must wait for groom but they say cannot.”

It’s true. My mother and aunts have been taking turns for the past thirty minutes letting the gate attendants know that they can’t possibly start boarding passengers because Nathan isn’t here yet. Unsurprisingly, they haven’t been as understanding as my family expected.

“Yes, now we go tell them they should hurry and start boarding, we all here, so rude to keep passengers waiting,” Big Aunt says. She turns to go to the gate, and the attendants visibly shrink back as she approaches. Poor things. I don’t blame them.

I grin at Nathan. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Sorry I took so long. The meeting lasted forever. The board’s somewhat uneasy about me leaving for a week.” He gives my arm a little squeeze. “Did you guys enjoy the lounge, at least?”

Ah, the lounge. It’s the first time any of my family members, including myself, have had the privilege of flying first class. Staph and her family are flying economy and I’d originally thought we’d stay with them until we boarded, maybe get some sandwiches, but Staph had practically pushed me into the first-class lounge and told me to enjoy myself. I didn’t know what airport lounges were like; I’d always thought they were sad little waiting rooms, but the moment we stepped inside, my mother and aunts went berserk, and I could hardly blame them.

We’d been greeted by a cascading waterfall that drowned out the usual airport noises, and beyond the partition was a larger-than-life buffet, complete with tiger prawns, caviar, and a full bar. Ma and the aunties had squawked and charged straight for the prawns while I found us a table. Then there were the showers. Again, never thought I’d ever want to shower at the airport, but these showers were beautiful—gleaming marble and rainfall showerheads and warmed, fluffy towels.

“Fourth Aunt had one too many glasses of Dom,” I whisper to Nathan, nodding at Fourth Aunt, who’s asleep in one of the chairs with her mouth open. As usual, people are looking, though I don’t know if it’s because she’s snoring or because of today’s outfit: a shiny, emerald-green dress, neon-orange scarf, and matching emerald-green sunglasses.

With obvious relief, the gate attendant picks up her mic and says, “Flight 382 bound for London Heathrow is ready for boarding. We will be boarding First Class and Business Class passengers first.” She’s barely finished the last sentence when Big Aunt and Ma charge the counter.

Second Aunt pokes Fourth Aunt’s head, and when thatdoesn’t work, shakes her roughly, shouting, “Eh, Si Mei, ah, bangun! We boarding already!”

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