Page 29 of The Good, the Bad, and the Aunties

“Dude, seriously?” Rochelle laughs, an unpleasant sound. I’m finding that I really do not like this kid at all. “What are the chances that out of your humongous family, I would be the one who gets the red packet that contains the titledeed?”

8

After her big reveal, Rochelle pauses, grinning, obviously savoring our astonished expressions.

“What?” I don’t even know who says that, maybe all of us. Maybe just me. Maybe just Annabelle, who’s staring at her friend like she doesn’t know who she is.

Rochelle gives a dramatic sigh, something that it seems to me everyone in Indonesia has mastered, and rolls her eyes. “When I came to your family’s celebration, I noticed the cavalcade out front. I mean, kind of hard not to notice that sort of thing, ya know? And so I knew that you had someone important there, and sure enough, once we were inside the house, I saw him.” She nods at Abi. “Abraham Lincoln Irawan, one of my grandpa’s archnemeses. Growing up, my grandpa was always telling us stories about how you and Julia Child Handoko can never be trusted, that you two are the dirtiest players in the entire business world.”

Abi snorts. “Hah! That’syourgrandfather, not me.”

“Mhmm.” Rochelle shrugs, clearly unimpressed by his outburst. “So what’s a good, filial granddaughter to do when presented with such an opportunity? Of course I decided to hang around, see if I could learn any useful information. You think your family’s huge? Mine’s even bigger, and my cousins are so competitive. I need some way to prove to my grandpa that he should pass down his business to me, and I got it. I saw the gift baskets you had your people bring in to impress everyone. I noticed that one of the red packets was different from the others.” She taps her temple and winks at us. “Shows that I have amazing observational skills, right? I positioned myself to accept a red packet from you.” She nods at me. “You gave me one of the normal ones, which is fine. I just looked out for that special one and found the kid you gave it to and traded a couple of red packets for it, and voilà!”

“What?” we all cry out. My mind is swimming, caught in a storm of confusion. “But why?”

She shrugs. “It was obvious that whatever was in the red packet was special. I originally thought it would just contain more money, so no harm in getting it, right? But then it turned out it contained a title deed. I looked up the plot of land, by the way.” Her grin widens. “Nice spot. Right in the middle of the business district, within walking distance to the Agung Tower and the Fortnum Tower. I see now why it’s such a strategic plot of land.”

“You give that back to me now,” Abi hisses.

Rochelle lifts her chin. “You can’t bully me, old man. Especially not when you’re on my property. I’ll have you arrested.”

Abi’s hands tighten into fists. “You stole from me. That’s theft.”

“Uh, how is it theft when you guys gave it away? You literally gave it to some kid, and then I exchanged my red packet for his. There’s a business term for it? I think it’s called...” She knits her eyebrows and taps her chin. “Oh yeah, I think it’s called trading,” she says with a smirk.

Was I ever this insufferable as a teen? God, if I was, I owe Ma a world of apologies. My stomach roils with frustration as I take in Rochelle’s smarmy, victorious expression. I want to reach out and shake her, scream at her until she succumbs. Instead, I remind myself to calm the hell down. Clearly, trying to intimidate her isn’t working. So I need to try a different tack. As much as I hate this kid, I have to admit that she is smart. So maybe reasoning to her sense of logic would work better.

“That is really resourceful,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “If I were your grandfather, I would be very impressed.”

“Thank you.” She does a little curtsy.

“Um, but you see, the thing is, I’m kind of in a difficult situation because of it. That title deed was arranged to be given to someone very important and very powerful—”

“Duh.” She rolls her eyes, and I resist the urge to kick her in the neck. “I figured it was meant for Julia Child Handoko. Who else would it be given to? This is not rocket science, you guys. Which, by the way, I’m studying.”

Do I hate this kid or do I admire her? Is there a difference anymore? Does it matter? God, the situation and everyone involved is just so out there that I’m having a hard time putting together a single coherent thought. “Anyway, the problem is, you see, we went to Julia’s house to explain to her that the titledeed went missing, and she, ah, she kind of kept my husband behind as a...” The word is so alien, so wrong, that it resists being said. I have to spit it out. “Hostage.” Tears rush into my eyes because saying it makes it so real. “My husband is innocent, he has nothing to do with any of this. We’re just visiting from California. We don’t even live here, we’ve never heard of any of these companies, we have nothing to do with your rivalries. He was trying to do the right thing, and now he’s literally locked in her house, and I need to get the title deed to her so she’ll set him free.”

By the time I finish talking, I’m breathing hard, feeling like I’ve just scooped out the innermost fears in my heart and displayed them to her. Would it be enough? Would it sway her? Unlike Ma and the aunties and Abi, I haven’t threatened or cajoled or tried to trick her into giving the title deed back. I’ve just used honesty, and sincerity, and I was vulnerable and—

“Wow, sucks to be you. I wish I could help, but...” She throws up her hands and shrugs her shoulders. “Sorry.”

It’s the least sorry of all sorries. Something inside me breaks. The cruelty of her. I can’t believe it. I take a step forward, unsure what I’m about to do, when there’s a bloodcurdling wail and Ma charges past me. “Ma, wha—”

The aunties follow her a split second later, rushing at Rochelle like a hurricane. Rochelle’s eyes widen, and she has time to say, “What the f—” before they slam into her.

“Hold her arms!” Fourth Aunt yells.

“Oh my god, oh my god—” Again, I have no idea if it’s me or Annabelle or Abi saying this. The three of us stare in horror as my mother and aunts physically accost Rochelle in the most awkward, arm-flailing struggle imaginable.

“Ah!” Second Aunt yelps as Rochelle knocks her hair askew. “This girl. So rude!”

Noises come from inside the house. I hear a man saying, “What’s going on?”

“We gotta go!” I cry.

Somehow, in the confusion, Big Aunt jumps up and rips the title deed out of Rochelle’s hand.

“Hey, give it back!” Rochelle shouts, but Ma and the aunties dash away. I grab Annabelle’s wrist and tug, and we all run away from the house and clamber into Abi’s waiting minivan.

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