Page 10 of The Good, the Bad, and the Aunties

“But you do. You always do.”

“Aiya, I messed up the eyeshadow!” Second Aunt cries.

Poor Second Aunt. I bite back my laugh as I straighten up. “I’ve never heard her this excited.” Not even when she found out I’d accidentally killed Ah Guan. It’s really nice, seeing my mom and aunts in a tizzy over something that, for once, has nothing to do with me. “I’m going to go help out. I’ll see you downstairs?”

“Okay.” Nathan kisses me and makes his way downstairs as I head into Second Aunt’s room.

It takes another fifteen minutes of fussing before Ma and I manage to convince Second Aunt that effortless gorgeousness has been achieved. By the time we’re done, the noise from downstairs has reached fever pitch. Apparently, in addition to Abi, the rest of our huge, overbearing family and all of the kids, hopped up on Chinese New Year sweets, have arrived. There are merry shouts and loud laughter booming through the large house. Second Aunt brushes down her emerald-green qipao and stands ramrod straight. Ma and I flank her on either side, and as we walk down the stairs, there is a hush. Eyes ping-pong back and forth from Abi to Second Aunt. When I look at him, my heart melts. The only way I can describe the expression on his face is reverent. He’s gazing at Second Aunt like she’s every daydream of his come true. It’s humbling.

It’s also kind of fun to see this side of Second Aunt. Even Ma, her arm linked with Second Aunt’s, seems to be reveling in the glow. They both look suddenly young, their faces bright and flushed with color. Second Aunt’s cherry-red lips are pursed into a shy, repressed smile, but Ma is openly beaming, so obviously joyous for her sister. I want to hug them both. It feels like Ma and I are giving Second Aunt away at her wedding or something. Below us, Big Aunt is standing with her arms crossed and an expression of disapproval, but her eyes are twinkling, and I have a feeling that she won’t stand in Second Aunt’s way of a happily ever after. Next to her, Fourth Aunt is grinning like the Cheshire cat, clasping her hands below her chin so that her newly manicured talons are visible. Behind them is the rest of the family, over eighty people all clustered together, looking up at us.

When we finally reach the bottom step, there is a collectiveahh, and Abi rushes forward, his eyes glued to Second Aunt, and clasps her hands. For a moment, they both stare at each other, unspeaking, and the amount of emotion and history between them is so thick it’s almost solid. In a flash, I see them as teenagers, both of them gangly and awkward, exchanging shy glances at each other, him watching her as she cycles home from school.

“Enjelin.” Abi’s voice is hoarse with emotion.

“Abi.” Second Aunt gives him a slight, coy smile. God, who knew she had it in her?

“You look beautiful.” Without taking his eyes off hers, Abi leans down and brings Second Aunt’s hand up. His lips lightly graze her knuckles. The world turns soft and warm, like the entire universe has just gone “Awww.”

Even through her thick makeup, Second Aunt’s cheeks are visibly red. She turns her face ever so slightly away from him, fluttering her eyelashes, and scolds him. “Oh, you’re so full of it.”

“It’s true. I don’t know how, but you’ve hardly aged at all. Or rather, you have, but like a limited edition Patek Philippe.” Interesting metaphor, could use a bit of work, but the sentiment behind it is sweet, I guess.

“Or maybe like a fine wine?” someone in the crowd suggests.

“I think a vintage Patek Philippe is better,” someone else says.

“I prefer Chopard myself.”

“Ahem.” Big Aunt narrows her eyes at them, and everyone falls silent.

They both look over at Big Aunt. “Is that all you have tosay to my sister after all these years? Is everything just based on her looks?”

Abi quails slightly before turning back to Second Aunt. “Of course not.” He clears his throat. “Ah, uh.” My heart goes out to the poor man as he visibly struggles to find something appropriate and meaningful to say to Second Aunt in front of Big Aunt’s unwavering glower. “Xin nian kuai le,” he says finally.

Seriously?! Two lovebirds reunited after decades, and all he can come up with is “Happy New Year?” It’s such a lolsob moment. Nathan catches my eye, and it’s obvious he’s barely holding back his laughter.

“Xin nian kuai le, Abi,” Second Aunt murmurs quietly, and goose bumps erupt across my arms, because though she’s just said the same thing back to him, there is so much hidden meaning behind it. Again, I see them as teens, having to hide their affection for each other for whatever reason (probably Big Aunt) and heaping all of their emotions into a single, loaded sentence. Second Aunt and Abi exchange a glance. Electric.

“Xin nian kuai le!” Fourth Aunt hoots. The charged atmosphere breaks, everyone laughs and claps, and conversations resume. People shout well wishes at one another in Mandarin.

“Gong xi fa cai!”

“Nian nian you yu!”

Nathan walks toward me, and together the two of us make our way through the crowd, our hands clasped in front of our chests, one fist encircled inside the other in the traditional Chinese New Year greeting.

“Gong hay fat choi,” Nathan says to Elsa and Jems in perfect Cantonese.

“Oh my, your Cantonese is amazing,” Elsa says.

We’re immediately joined by more cousins, all of whom are dying to meet Nathan. “He’s gorgeous,” my cousin Sofia says in my ear. I laugh and nod, gazing fondly at Nathan as he rattles off a string of flawless Cantonese new year greetings at the behest of the others.

The kids slip between people, clasping their little fists in front of their chests and shouting, “Gong xi fa cai! Hong bao na lai!” Wish you a prosperous year! Give us our red packets!

Growing up, this was my favorite part of the holiday. Married couples have to give out red packets filled with money to unmarried people and children. My cousins and I had a ton of fun going around wishing people a happy new year before demanding our red packets. The grown-ups would purse their lips and tell us off for being rude, but no one could resist our cuteness, and we would end the day by opening our red packets and counting the spoils of war.

I reach into my prepared bag, filled to bursting with red packets, and give half of the stack to Nathan. The rest of my cousins do the same, and we all hand out red packets to the kids, who hug us before running away to find more victims to extort red packets from. Abi’s voice booms above the clamor.

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