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Be careful, we need to watch out for the Queen.
The Queen? “Am I missing something here?” I say, turning round to look at my family. “Is this an Indo saying that means something else? Or does she literally mean the queen, as in the queen of England?”
If they’re here to assassinate the actual queen of England, we might be in a lot more trouble than we originally thought. Though how they were planning on assassinating the queen at my wedding, I have no idea.
“The queen?” Big Aunt says. “Meddy, you got queen coming to your wedding? You not tell us?”
“How can not tell us?” Second Aunt snaps. “We wear like this, so ridiculous, in front of queen of England?”
I stare at them.Thisis when they finally realize the ridiculousness of their outfits?
“If we know queen coming, we would add feather,” Big Aunt says.
Ah. Ridiculous because the fascinators are featherless, not because of the Komodo dragons. They’re all staring at me, and the combination of those displeased expressions and the disapproving Komodo dragons atop their heads is very disconcerting.
“Er, no,” I say, finally finding my voice. “The queen of England is not coming to my wedding. I think it’s a code name.”
“Ooohhh,” they say, nodding sagely.
“So who can be code name Queen?” Big Aunt says.
“It must be Lilian Citra,” I say, feeling sick to my stomach. “Out of the three people we’ve singled out from the guest list, she’s the only woman.” The words are coming out faster the more I recall about the old woman. “I haven’t met her myself. She lives in—uh, not sure, actually, I think Nathan might have mentioned Shanghai and Dubai at some point? I’ve overheard him talking to her over the phone, and he’s always so respectful toward her. I think she’s someone really, really important. Someone who’s a likely candidate to be a mafia target.” I open up a web browser and type her name in, and sure enough, the search results are impressive.
The Citras own this mall and that hotel and this plantation and that mine. They’re a powerful family headed by an aging matriarch, Lilian.
I show my family the Google images of her. She looks like she’s in her seventies, with gently graying hair worn in the typical Chinese-Indonesian way—big and poufy and short. Around her neck is a simple string of pearls, and her clothes are all well-tailored pantsuits à la Hillary Clinton. Altogether, she looks like the exact type of person who’d get the code name “the Queen.”
My family nods their agreement. “Wah, yes, look very queen,” Ma says. “Oh, look, here she is carrying the ostrich Birkin, you see?”
They all nod and give appreciative grunts. At a snort from Second Uncle, we all look up.
“What? You got something to say?” Fourth Aunt growls. He looks away. “That’s right, bitch, we cracked your code. Your code ain’t shit!”
“Jesus, Fourth Aunt.” I’m about to say more when my alarm goes off, startling all of us. “Sorry, that’s just—shit. That was the wedding ceremony reminder. Ceremony’s in half an hour. The guests are probably starting to arrive. What if—oh god—what if they plan on killing her as soon as she gets here?”
There’s a beat of silence as we stare helplessly at one another, and then Big Aunt says, with utter and complete confidence, “We will watching over her.”
“Yes, we go now and protect her,” Ma says.
“You can’t go out, you’re the mother of the bride, you’re giving Meddy away,” Fourth Aunt says. “You’ve gotta stay in here until the ceremony starts.”
Ma looks like she’s about to argue, but Big Aunt nods and says, “Si Mei correct. You stay here, is okay. We go out and we protect this queen, we be okay.”
I’m about to say something, though I have no idea what, when there’s a loud knock at the door.
“Open up!” Staph calls out, her voice tinged with frustration. At this, Second Uncle starts yelling, but the sock in his mouth muffles his voice, and Ma leaps at him and yanks his ear like he’s a naughty kid until he stops shouting.
“The guests are arriving,” someone else says from outside. Seb. Crap.
We all file out of the bathroom and close the door behind us. “Are we really going to do this?” I say.
My family nods.
“Okay.” I make sure Second Uncle’s phone is on silent mode before sliding it into one of the bedside drawers. “Ma and I will go to the antechamber, and you guys will protect Lilian.” I reach out and hug all of them, blinking back my tears. “Thank you.”
“Aiya, is no problem,” Big Aunt says. “We must making sure you have perfect wedding day. No murder.”
“Amen to that,” Fourth Aunt says.