Page 72 of Four Aunties and a Wedding

Fourth Aunt side-eyes Ma and plasters on an even bigger smile. She gives a little shimmy and says, “And I am about to give you a performance you will never forget! Oh, and Lilian too. Lilian, give everybody a wave.” Lilian gives us all a terrified grin. Fourth Aunt nods at the band manager and says, “Hit it, boys!”

The band starts up with a rendition of “I Will Always Love You.”

Ma and Big Aunt are looking even more tense than before. Ma says something to Staphanie, and Staphanie gives her a smile so smug it turns my stomach. Ma looks over at me with a frown. I feel it too. Something’s about to happen. But what? They’ve outsmarted us. They haven’t poisoned Lilian’s food after all. No, it’s something else. What could it be? Think, brain!

Okay, let’s see. They’re mafia. They’re mafia—okay, we’ve been over this. So they’re mafia, so what? What do we know about the mafia? They’re all about sending out a message. Right, yes! So they’d go for the most dramatic kill, one that will be seared in everybody’s mind. Oh my god.

A bomb. Oh god. That’s what it—no. That doesn’t make sense. If they’ve planted a bomb, Staphanie wouldn’t be here. Not this close to the action, anyway. Ama might be a ruthless mafia boss lady, but I can’t imagine her sacrificing her only granddaughter like that.

So, then, what is it? And where the hell is Ama? I look around me and catch a sudden reflection up on the banister on the second floor. A small gasp escapes me. Is that—could that be the scope of a rifle?

When we first met, Staphanie had mentioned how Ama used to hunt when she was younger, and what a sharp shooter she was. How else would she have ascended the ranks to become the matriarch? This is it. She’s going to actually snipe Lilian from there, right in front of everyone. She’s going to assassinate her. We’ve been focused on the wrong thing this whole time. It was never going to be poison. Poison would’ve been too quiet, too subtle. Remember the Chinese-Indonesian adage: the showier, the better.

I struggle to get out of my seat, to navigate around my chair in my huge dress. Ma catches my eye and she must have spotted something in my expression because she grabs Big Aunt, who grabs Second Aunt. Together, the three of them approach the stage slowly, cautiously.

“Where are you going?” Nathan says.

“Bathroom.”

He doesn’t buy it, but he can see the panic in my eyes. “What’s going on—never mind. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“We need to—” From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of something. Someone’s moving, and the movement is so weird and awkward and just plain wrong that it robs all thought from my head. I look over and freeze.

It’s Third Uncle. He’s awake.

Chris notices him at the same time. “Oh, your grandmother’s awake,” he says.

I understand, now, why people say, “Rooted to the spot.”Move!my mind screams, but I swear roots have sprouted from the soles of my feet and dug deep into the ground.

Even as I watch, Third Uncle lurches out of the wheelchair, struggling with the blanket that’s twined tightly around him. He sways drunkenly to his feet, looking like he’s about to topple over, but then he takes a small step, and another. The bindings around his ankles must’ve gotten loose.

Ma and the aunties have yet to spot him; their eyes are locked on Lilian, singing and swaying meekly next to Fourth Aunt.

My legs unlock and I move toward Third Uncle. What am I about to do? I have no idea. I reach out for him and he lurches away from me in a panic.

“No, wait—”

He takes a wild swing, loses his balance, and stumbles straight into the towering wedding cake behind him. The entire dessert table, along with the eight-tier cake, comes crashing down with a magnificentbang, and my family leaps into action. I turn to the stage just in time to see Ma, Second Aunt, and Big Aunt tackle Lilian to the ground.

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Chaos. Someone has shouted “Gun!” and now there are shouts and screams and everybody is running everywhere, and for the longest second in the history of seconds, I stand there, mouth agape, staring at the crazy shambles that is my wedding reception. Then something grabs me—Nathan, taking my arm and urging me to get out of the dining hall. I pull my arm out of his grasp and register, dimly, the look of confusion on his face.

“I need to—my family—”

“Get out of here,” he says. “I’ll come back for them.”

This snaps me out of my shock. “No! You take your parents out of here. I’ll get my family.”

For a moment, he looks like he might argue, but I say, “Lilian,” and he nods grimly before rushing over to the stage. We had all seen my aunts and mother bodychecking poor Lilian, and I have no idea how she’s faring. Probably not great.

At the stage, Lilian is miraculously sitting up, looking dazed. Ma reaches out to help her up, but Lilian gives a terrified littleshriek and shrinks away. Who can blame her? Nathan catches Lilian gently, and together they stagger off the stage and limp toward the nearest exit.

Where has Staphanie gone? I look around but don’t see her or Ama anywhere. But there’s no time to search for them. I need to do something about Third Uncle.

I rush to the remnants of the dessert table and find Third Uncle trapped under the smashed giant wedding cake. With his wrists and ankles still tied up, he’s finding it near impossible to get up. It doesn’t help that he’s now covered in a thick, greasy layer of coconut cake with slick, rich lime cream.

I bend over to help pull him up, but he shies away from me just as Lilian had with Ma. I consider grabbing his arm anyway but decide against it. Despite the direness of the situation, I still can’t bear to get my dress covered in cake. Which is crazy, I know. He opens his mouth. I steel myself for the scream that’s about to come out, but instead, he coughs and then turns his head and vomits a little. Shit, I wonder if he has a concussion. I stand and wave frantically at the stage, catching Ma’s eye. “Help,” I mouth.

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