Page 2 of Next Time Will Be Our Turn
Uncle Thomas replies, “I don’t understand. What’s going on? She’s still in love with Papa.”
“She talks to him for hours every day!” someone else says.
The murmurs continue rising, a disquieting susurration like a cold breeze going through the trees. Everyone is practically squirming with discomfort, nobody wanting to be the first to acknowledge Nainai’s surprise guest.
“She’s going to destroy the family name,” Mama says. I have no idea if she’s still talking to me, or to someone else or just to the universe in general.
One corner of Nainai’s bright red lips quirks up into a mischievous smile, and somehow, though I know it’s next to impossible in the dim restaurant, with so many people around her, I swear that for a moment, her gaze locks with mine. There’s that sensation again of being shaken awake, whether I want to remain asleep or not. Nainai winks. My mouth turns dry. Then, as we all watch, she turns to the woman, lifts her chin, stands on tiptoe‚ and gives her a romantic Hollywood kiss straight on the lips.
Chapter 2
IZZY
Mama is incandescent with rage the whole drive home from the restaurant. Papa is silent, which is somehow worse. His silences are sharp, a cruel slice scything through the air, killing all conversation. But since Mama and Papa are both angry about the same thing, his silence doesn’t bother her. She rails nonstop during the twenty-minute journey.
“Why would she do this tonight? Right now? At Chinese New Year?” Mama hisses, her hands balling into fists. “What was she thinking? There were business partners there. Clients! Investors!”
I stare out of the car window as we pass by skyscraper after skyscraper, not really taking in any of the scenery. To be honest, I pretty much have the same questions that Mama is asking, though perhaps without the rage. Next to me, Troy is busy typing on his phone. I glance at the screen and see that he’s on the cousins’ group chat. I slide my phone out of my pocket and open up the chat group. As expected, everyone is basically echoingMama’s tirade. I tuck the phone back into my pocket. I don’t have anything to say to my cousins. I rarely do.
When Papa finally speaks, his voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “It might be time for us to call for a board meeting to discuss succession.”
Mama stops mid-sentence. There’s a pregnant pause. She takes in a sharp breath. “I…”
“Her behavior is becoming erratic. And for a company like ours, that isn’t a good look.”
My stomach twists at Papa’s words. Words I have grown up hearing over and over.For a company like ours…You must think about the family name…You can’t behave like this…
For years, I’d wished that Troy or one of my cousins would misbehave. Plenty of them went through their own rebellious phases, but they did so in more socially acceptable ways. The kind of rebellion that my aunts and uncles could laugh about and be secretly proud of. “He got caught smoking at school!” “She led a whole protest!” They were reprimanded once or twice, but my generation on the whole is well adjusted. With the exception of myself.
Now that I’m hearing these words being muttered about someone other than me, I don’t feel any of the joy and vindication I’d always imagined I would. All I feel is my chest tightening, like my rib cage is closing into a fist. I love Nainai, and I don’t know what is going on, and I’m so scared about Papa being right. That her behavior is erratic, and that maybe it’s indicative of a bigger problem. What if this is the beginning of the end, her mind deteriorating to the point where she no longer knows her own name? Tears sting my eyes and I take in a shuddery breath as quietly as I can manage.
“I’ll set up a family meeting,” Mama says quietly, and somehow, the heavy sorrow in her voice is worse than her blazing tirade.
• • •
Once I’m in my room, I peel off my unforgiving qipao and underwear and toss them onto a chair before stepping into the shower. I stand under the scalding stream of water for a long time, hoping the heat will mellow out my mind. But even as my muscles relax, my thoughts continue scurrying around in my head. Flashes of the celebration tonight—everybody freezing when Nainai kissed the woman, most of them looking shocked, but a few of them appearing openly revolted. Uncle Chase and his wife, Auntie Lin. My cousin Kadence. There must’ve been more, but when I saw the look on Kadence’s face, something inside me shattered and I ran for the bathroom. I vaguely heard Nainai saying something, probably introducing the woman, but I didn’t catch the actual words. They were quickly drowned out by the scandalized whispers anyway. Me splashing cold water on my face, avoiding my own reflection in the mirror. My ragged breaths. My anger. And shame. I wasn’t sure why I was angry.
I’m still not sure, right now, but I can still feel it, that anger pulsing hot and slow deep in my chest. I’ve never liked Kadence. But I’m also inexplicably angry at Nainai. Sighing, I turn off the shower and step out. I groan into the towel as I dry myself. The shower has done nothing to calm me. I shouldn’t be surprised; when I’m filled with anxious, frenetic energy like this, the only thing that works is a long walk. It’s been this way since I was ten and realized I wanted to kiss my best friend Natalie on the lips. But the past year or so, it’s gotten worse. I don’t know if thewalks are going to cut it for much longer, because there’s a part of me that whispers,Keep walking. Walk out of the housing complex and keep going. Walk until they can’t find you.
I try to shake off the thoughts as I shrug on a shirt and pants. I press my ear to the door. The soft thumping of music from Troy’s room and nothing from Mama and Papa’s, which means they’ve gone to bed. The coast is clear. Still, I never liked to go through the front door at times like these, even though no one would know. There’s just something about climbing out of my window and slithering down the drainpipe that adds a whole other layer of “This is mine, and mine alone.” One of these days, I’ll slip and break an arm, or a leg, but even that risk is worth taking for this feeling alone.
Before my feet even reach the ground, there’s the familiar surge of relief. I swear even the cells in my body are expanding, collectively releasing their nervous choke hold on me. I take a deep breath, fill my lungs with the cool night air.
“There you are,” someone says.
I sputter for a second or two. Because of course I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s the voice I’ve grown up with. My nainai. I’m supposed to say something. Greet her. She’s still my elder after all. But nothing comes out. All I can do is stare dumbly as she detaches herself from the shadows and beckons at me.
“Come, mensheng, walk with me.”
I half frown, half smile at her. “Mensheng?”
“It means ‘protégé.’ ” She starts strolling down the street, so I’m left with no choice but to scamper after her.
When I catch up, I give her a look. “I think it’s clear by now that whatever I am, it’s definitely not your protégé.”
She returns the look with her own arched eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Uh, let’s see…” I hold up a thumb. “One, you’re a badass boss bitch and I’m not.”
