Page 54 of The Good, the Bad, and the Aunties

Everyone applauds with enthusiasm.

“And now, I have a surprise for all of you. We have among us a national treasure. Remember when we were ambitious, hot-headed twenty-, thirty-year-olds—you old farts remember those days, eh?”

A ripple of laughter and nodding heads goes through the room.

“Ah, those were the days. I remember, when I was in my thirties, I heard this song on the radio. What were the lyrics?” He closes his eyes and hums a tune for a second. “Ah yes, ‘Let the wind tell our story, it’s fleeting as the days I spent with you.’ ”

His audience is nodding along appreciatively with nostalgic smiles.

“Sang by a rising young star, Mimi Chan. I used to listen to her songs and think of my teen years.” Kristofer’s eyes grow wistful. “Of the love I left behind.”

Someone in the crowd whistles, and Kristofer laughs. “Well, enough of that. Are you ready for my surprise?”

Everyone cheers.

“Presenting the voice of my—of our youth. Mimiiii Chaaan!” He points a hand to the center of the room, where Fourth Aunt stands, and all of a sudden, Fourth Aunt starts ascending.

For a second, I wonder if Fourth Aunt is having a Rapture-esque moment and is being called to the heavens by the angels, but then common sense kicks in and I realize, of course, that it’s just the electric stage slowly rising from the floor. Fourth Aunt looks a bit taken aback at first, her eyes widening, but then she looks around at the room, the sea of eyes all trained on her, and it’s as though she feeds off their attention. Her back straightens, her chin lifts, and she unfurls like a blooming flower. Along with the stage, a standing microphone rises from the floor, and Fourth Aunt grabs hold of it like it’s a long lost lover.

“Helloooo, Jakarta!” she croons into it, and I finally understand why she was so keen to get to sing into this particular microphone. Kristofer hadn’t been exaggerating about his sound system. Fourth Aunt’s voice, already pretty nice on its own, is amplified in a powerful and yet silky way through the microphone.

Everyone claps. Whistles tear through the applause, and I can’t help but smile. Fourth Aunt has told me, time and again, what a big deal she’d been in Indonesia, but when it comes to Ma and the aunties, I can never tell what’s real and what’s been stretched for maximum drama. But now I see that she wasn’t stretching the truth at all. She really was somebody back here.

The music starts, and Fourth Aunt closes her eyes and begins to sing. Everyone, me included, is entranced. She sounds as smooth as oil, as rich as chocolate. It’s nearly impossible to tear my eyes away, but somehow, I do. And of course, as soonas I look away from Fourth Aunt, Kristofer catches my eye. I guess he’s been glaring at me this whole time, because when we make eye contact, he gestures for me to start filming Fourth Aunt. Right. I sheepishly take out my phone and aim it at Fourth Aunt. Kristofer nods gruffly and goes back to enjoying the song, his gaze growing soft and faraway as he’s no doubt transported to the days of yore. I can’t tell from this distance, but it looks almost as though he’s getting teary-eyed. Yep, I’m right. He really is getting a bit teary-eyed. Who would’ve thought that such a scary dude could be so sentimental? But then again, who can blame him? Fourth Aunt’s song is at once hopeful and sorrowful, and even though I don’t quite understand all of the Mandarin words, I catch enough to know that she’s singing about a lost love, and deep inside me, I feel my heart clench at the sadness in the song.

I wait for a minute longer for Kristofer to really get immersed in Fourth Aunt’s performance. By then, more than a handful of people are wiping away a tear. This is it. This is my chance to slip away. I keep my phone aimed at Fourth Aunt as I begin to inch away, just to give the impression that I’m still shooting in case Kristofer checks on me. Summoning all of the subtlety I’ve learned from years of experience as a wedding photographer, I melt into the crowd, keeping my eyes trained on my phone to avoid eye contact with anyone else, while using my peripheral vision to guide me. I’m about halfway to the door when a scream slices through Fourth Aunt’s golden voice.

“That’s her!” someone shouts.

Fourth Aunt opens her eyes, looking dazed, as though she’s just been shaken away from a heavy dream. The music falters and stops.

A ripple goes through the crowd as someone scythes throughthem with ruthless efficiency, elbowing and shoving people out of their way. When I finally catch sight of the person, every muscle in my body freezes. Because it’s Rochelle. The girl my mom and aunts accosted.

Rochelle points an accusatory finger up at Fourth Aunt. “You,” she yells. “You attacked me. You stole my title deed!”

“What’s going on?” Kristofer calls out, hurrying over to Rochelle.

“Ah Gong,” Rochelle calls him. Grandfather. Oh god. In the hectic confusion of yesterday, I’d somehow failed to remember Rochelle is Kristofer’s granddaughter. “This woman and her crazy family—they attacked me.”

A gasp shudders through the crowd.

“What?” Kristofer says. He glances up at Fourth Aunt and hesitates. “But why would Mimi Chan do that?”

“Okay, first of all, don’t say ‘Mimi Chan’ like she’s someone famous, Ahgong.” Rochelle rolls her eyes. “And second of all, they attacked me because they wanted to steal the title deed from me. You know, that title deed I was telling you about? The whole reason you—you know, did the thing?” Rochelle raises her eyebrows meaningfully.

“What?” Kristofer says again, obviously mystified. He frowns and shakes his head. “No, that was—that whole mess has to do with Abi, not Mimi Chan. I don’t understand—”

The dread in my stomach has been building up this whole time, as Kristofer inches his way to the truth. Any moment now, he’s going to put the pieces together and realize that his beloved Mimi Chan is none other than Second Aunt’s sister, and then what’s going to happen to us? Fourth Aunt catches my eye, and I know then that she’s thinking the exact same thing I am. She gives me the slightest nod.Go, Meddy.

I nod back at her, a lump knotting in my throat. I’m going to go. I have to get to Second Aunt, even if it means leaving Fourth Aunt here, in the middle of this mess. I have to trust that she’ll be able to get out of this somehow. As I turn to leave, I hear Fourth Aunt’s voice, once more amplified by the microphone.

“Someone’s been indulging in too much champagne, eh?” she calls out. “Hit it, band!”

A lively, jaunty tune starts up, and Fourth Aunt starts singing in this frantic, powerful voice, trying her best to drown out Rochelle’s shouts of, “It was her. I’m telling you!”

I chance a glance back. Kristofer has taken out his phone and is talking into it. I don’t know what he’s saying, but his face is deathly serious. His gaze shifts and locks on mine. He stops talking. My blood freezes. He knows.

I turn from him andrun.

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