Page 41 of The Good, the Bad, and the Aunties

“So is there anything I can do for you?” Wito says.

The smile fades from Big Aunt’s face. “Yes, actually. I heard that you’re catering to Mr. Hermansah’s feast tonight?”

“Oh yes. We’re prepping for it right now, in fact.”

“Would it be possible if I—ah, if I tagged along?”

There’s a short pause. When Wito next speaks, his words ring with confusion. “Tagged along to the event?”

“Yes.” Big Aunt’s eyes roam the room for a second, moving in rapid panic, then she quickly adds, “I heard that his mansion is amazing, and I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like. I will help out with the catering, of course. For free! I can make my famous mocha velvet cake with brandy frosting?”

“Waduh, Mami, this is...” It’s obvious that Wito is tornbetween enthusiasm and concern. “Wah, gimana, ya? Hmm. I—” He’s interrupted by someone talking to him in the background. “It’s Mami Friya,” he says to the person on his end.

“Mami Friya?” she cries with unabashed excitement. Her voice comes out loud through the phone. “It’s Nana!”

“Oh, Nana, hello,” Big Aunt calls out, smiling again.

“Mami, it’s been too long. How are you? I follow your Insta and your cakes are even more beautiful than I remember. Hey guys, it’s Mami Friya!”

A chorus of happy greetings pour out of the phone, and by now, we’re all beaming at Big Aunt, loving every moment of her being worshipped like the goddess she is.

“Mami Friya is asking if she could help us cater to the Hermansah event tonight,” Wito says to the other chefs.

Immediately, there is a loud chorus of yeses. “That will be amazing, Mami!” Nana shouts.

“Great, wonderful,” Big Aunt says, somewhat less enthusiastically. “I will meet you all at the kitchen.”

“Be here at four. We’ll start loading up then.”

They say their goodbyes and hang up. As soon as the call ends, Big Aunt’s shoulders droop like a deflated balloon.

Julia Child claps politely. “That was beautiful to watch. They did not suspect a thing.” She considers Big Aunt. “I could use someone like you.”

A scowl takes over Big Aunt’s face. “I hated lying to them. They’re as good as family to me.”

Julia Child shrugs. “In this line of business, you’ll have to get used to this kind of thing. Sons will stab their fathers in the back.”

I hate seeing Big Aunt looking so conflicted, so I quicklysay, “Well, we have no other choice. We need to save Second Aunt.”

“Yes, Dajie, you did good,” Fourth Aunt pipes up.

Big Aunt manages a small, sad nod and reverts to English for Nathan’s and my sake. “But now how? I have a way inside the mansion, but you all still don’t have a way inside. I don’t think they will let all of you to join the catering, you know? Will look very strange.”

For a moment, we’re all silent. Then Fourth Aunt steps up. “Don’t worry about it, Dajie. Sanjie and I will take care of it.”

Ma gapes openly at her. So do I. “What you mean, you and I taking care of it?” Ma says, obviously aghast at the thought of having to cooperate with Fourth Aunt.

Fourth Aunt looks at her with all the innocence in the world, which is when I know she’s plotting something nefarious, because Fourth Aunt is a lot of things, but innocent isn’t one of them. “Oh, you’ll see. Don’t worry, I have a fabulous idea.”

“That’s when we should worry, when you say you got fabulous idea,” Ma mutters.

Fourth Aunt grins and wiggles her eyebrows. I swallow the lump in my throat and wonder just what in the world we’re all about to get ourselves into.

Big Aunt spends the rest of the late morning and early afternoon baking her famous mocha velvet cake in Julia Child’s enormous, state-of-the-art kitchen. Hah, it’s only after thinking of the words “Julia Child’s enormous, state-of-the-art kitchen” that it hits me how ironic it is that I’m not even referring to the original Julia Child, who also probably had an enormous, state-of-the-art kitchen. But no, we’re referring tothe knockoff Julia Child, the one who is totally-not-a-triad-leader but also happens to have a kitchen that the original Julia Child would’ve approved of. God, I’m even rambling in my own head. This is a sure sign that I’m losing it.

The rest of us pore over the dining table, working on making our plan as watertight as we can. Nathan writes the plan into a list. A to-do list on How to Break into a Not-Triad Leader’s House.

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