Page 11 of The Good, the Bad, and the Aunties

“I have brought red packets also!” He waves with flourish, and one of his henchmen—er, assistants—staggers forward under the weight of a humongous gift basket piled high with red packets.

The kids shriek with joy and there’s a mad rush, but their parents manage to grab them and hold them, their little legs kicking in the air. “One by one,” one of the parents scolds.

“I technically can’t give them out because I’m unmarried,” Abi says, emphasizing the word “unmarried” with a wink at Second Aunt.

Big Aunt nods. “Meddy, Nathan, since you two are the newlyweds, you can give them out.”

Nathan puffs out his chest and I roll my eyes. It’s honestly adorable how eager he is to please Big Aunt. We each take a pile of red packets, and one by one, the kids are loosened from their parents’ grips and they scurry toward us, shouting “Gong xi fa cai!” in a single rushed breath, grab a red packet, and run off. The older kids are more reserved, walking instead of running, and smiling shyly as they mumble their well wishes to us. I can’t believe how much my nieces and nephews have grown since the last time I saw them. I barely recognize many of them, and my heart squeezes at the realization that I’ve missed out on so much of their lives. I try to sear every face into my memory, taking the time to hug each one of them before they can escape.

When the last red packet has been handed out, we all go to the dining room, where once again, every available surface has been covered with plates of food. This time, there are a lot more desserts than usual, because sweet foods signify a hope for a sweet year ahead.

There is a mix of Chinese and Indonesian sweets. Lapis Surabaya, a notoriously rich Indonesian layered cake that uses no fewer than thirty egg yolks per loaf; nian gao, a caramel-brown sticky rice cake that’s been cut into thin slices and deep fried to crunchy, chewy perfection; fried sesame balls the size of my fist; and about a dozen other sweet dishes, each one more decadent than the last.

“Ayo, makan,” Fourth Aunt calls out. “Dajie made a lot of these cakes.”

Big Aunt nods with barely suppressed pride.

“Big Aunt, how in the world did you have time to make them? You arrived in Jakarta only yesterday morning,” I gasp.

Big Aunt’s chin lifts. “Discipline, Meddy. If you got discipline, you can do anything.”

Why does even an innocent question get the kind of reply that makes me feel chastised? But my cousins are around me, and they all laugh and share a look with me, and I feel my heart expanding because I’m not alone. Nathan squeezes my hand, and when I look up at him, I find him gazing at me with complete understanding, and I know then that we both feel like we’ve found our home.

The rest of the day passes by in a blur of eating, games with my cousins and the kids, one hour melting into the next in a haze of laughter. At some point, Abi leaves, saying he has to pay his respects to his family, and Second Aunt deflates like a punctured balloon until he assures her that he will be back first thing in the morning.

Right after lunch, Big Aunt and a few of the other aunties march into the kitchen to prep the dishes for dinner, even though all of us have been soundly defeated by lunch. I insist that I can’t eat another bite, but dinner turns out to be so delicious that we all end up stuffing our faces once more.

Later that night, when everyone has gone home, Nathan and I slump on the couch, my head nestled against his arm, both of us muttering and laughing softly as we rehash the events of the day. Everyone else has retired to their bedrooms for the night, and I’m ready to pass out from exhaustion, but at the same time, my mind is buzzing from endorphins, from the sheer excitement of everything. I hadn’t dared to hope that introducing Nathan to my larger family would go so well, buteverything has far exceeded my expectations. My cousins and aunties and uncles adore him, and he sees them as the family he’s always wished for.

“Maybe we should move here,” he says.

I snort and glance up at him. He’s only half joking, I realize. “Seriously? But what about your work?”

He shrugs. “I travel to Asia for work half the time anyway. It would make sense to use Jakarta as my hub. And your family is amazing, and the little ones...” He sighs, smiling, and rests his chin on the top of my head. “Seeing all of your little nieces and nephews running around, playing with one another... it made me realize that that’s the kind of childhood I want to give our kids.”

Warmth floods my chest. “Nathan—”

The rest of the sentence is cut short by a frantic hammering from the front door. Something about the knocking jars me, piercing straight through the satiated haze. I jump up, all of my instincts screaming. Something is wrong. This isn’t the kind of knock that people use when all is well. Nathan must have come to the same conclusion because he’s already halfway to the door. He pauses, turns to look at me, and gestures at me to stand behind him. I almost laugh out loud. After everything we’ve been through—the accidental murder, the so-called mafia scare—he still feels the need to protect me. I can’t decide if it’s infuriating or endearing.

Together, we approach the front door. I jump when the banging starts again. Whoever’s outside really wants to be let in. God, I wish we weren’t the only two people left down here.

“Who’s there?” Nathan calls out in his deepest voice.

“It’s me, Abi.”

“Oh.” Our breaths release in a relieved whoosh. It feels asthough all of my muscles have turned to water, and a small, shocked laugh startles out of my mouth. Nathan unlatches the lock and opens the door. I feel silly to have been so scared just moments ago. But then Abi strides into the house, his face awash with naked, primal fear, and my insides clench up, a steel grip seizing them with ruthlessness. No one would wear that expression unless something was very, very wrong. And when Abi speaks, the words confirm my worst nightmares.

“You must help me,” he gasps. “Otherwise we’re alldoomed.”

4

This can’t be happening. It can’t be. But wait, whatishappening?

These are the thoughts swirling through my mind as I creep up the staircase, careful not to wake anyone up. I knock softly at Ma’s door before going inside. Ma and Second Aunt are sitting in their beds, hair rollers on, both of them scrolling through their phones, probably watching one of the dozens of fake health news videos that they will then forward to the family WhatsApp group with the caption: “You see, if you want to be healthy, avoid sunlight for one hundred days!” The normalcy of the scene weighs me down. I wish I could lie and say “Just wanted to wish you a good night” and then leave them alone.

But just as I think that, Ma glances up, catches the expression on my face, and lowers her phone. “Aduh, Meddy. What now?”

“Yes, who you kill this time?”

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