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I gingerly crouch down so that Nainai can put her arms around me and give me a sort of hug. “Uh, it’s really not a big deal, Nainai.”

She pets my head like I’m a good dog. “Oh, my little grandson, you held hands! With a girl. You know, I was convinced you were a gay.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Nainai, we’ve talked about this before. It’s the twenty-first century, you can’t say stuff like that.”

She waves me away and holds her arms out to Eleanor, who doesn’t hesitate before laying her head on Nainai’s lap. I wonder if Eleanor will ever grow too old to do that. How does she carry off being everyone’s baby?

“And anyway, it wasn’t the first time I’ve ever held someone’s hand. You know, I’ve made out with other girls before,” I mutter. Not that it matters; Nainai and Papa are enthralled with Eleanor as she regales them with an overly dramatized account of ourday.

“And then,” Eleanor says, “gege helped Sharlot onto the raft—it was very wobbly and Sharlot was very scared—gege was a total gentleman and held her hand like this—”

“I really don’t remember Sharlot being very scared,” I say, but Papa shushes me. “You know, given it’s about me and Shar, don’t you think I should be the one telling this story?”

They all look at me like I’ve just started speaking German before turning back to look at Eleanor, who continues talking. “And the Ayung River was so fast, oh my gosh, it wassoscary, Pa, I can’t believe that you let me go on it, I could’ve died!”

“My baby,” Papa gasps, while Nainai wails and hugs Eleanor tight.

“Seriously?” I say. “That’s not even close to being true.”

“You are such a brave little warrior,” Nainai says, cupping Eleanor’s chin. “You’re like Mulan.”

Eleanor nods proudly and smirks.

“Why didn’t you protect your little sister?” Nainai snaps atme.

I gesture wildly. “You just told her she’s like Mulan!”

“She could have died!”

“Okay, first of all, the river was really mild. Second of all, we had a perfectly seasoned guide and we were all wearing life jackets. Thirdly, I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation.” What I really want to say is how the hell do they turn everything—even something as small as holding hands—into something huge and dramatic? But I can’t be bothered, so I just say, “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Wait!” Papa says. “Tell us about Sharlot and this magical date.”

“Just speak Indo, Pa,” I say. I close my eyes and sigh. “It was good.”

Groans all around. “It was good?” Eleanor says. “This is why nobody ever asks you to tell stories, gege.”

“He’s hopeless,” Nainai says.

“Hey! That’s not nice.” I sigh again. “I mean, it’s kind of weird describing it to, uh, to my grandmother, my father, and my little sister.”

They stare uncomprehendingly. “George Clooney,” Papa says after a while. “We are family. This what family do.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not what families do.” By now, I feel so tired that I’m ready to tell them the truth. “Okay. It was—even with Eleanor and Kiki and the reporters there—it was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Papa and Eleanor squeal. “I knew it!” Eleanor cries. “I knew she’s going to be my sister-in-law!”

“That’s quite a leap.” But my voice is drowned by their excited flapping. I’ve completely lost them now. Shrugging, I open the sliding door and step back inside the villa. I go to the bar and take out a cold ginger ale. It feels amazing sliding down my throat, spicy and refreshing. I hold the can to my forehead and close my eyes.

“So, why do you look so down about it all?” Eleanor says, suddenly materializing next to me.

“Jesus!” I jump back and nearly drop the can. Papa is standing behind Eleanor. My loud, flappy, overly dramatic family can also move as quietly as a ghost when they put their minds to it.

“Did Sharlot reject you because she realized you’re super boring and also into badgers?” Eleanor says.

I gape at them, opening and closing my mouth. “I don’t—I—what? I don’t know! I don’t think so. Look, she didn’t reject me, okay? I just—I’m feeling bad because I feel terrible lying to her about how we met online. All those chats we had, she thinks they were with me, but they weren’t. They were with you and you.” I point an accusatory finger at Pa and at Eleanor. “Thing One and Thing Two.”

At least they have the good grace to look slightly abashed about it. Which doesn’t last long, obviously. Eleanor is the firstto rally. “It doesn’t matter, gege! It’s just chat messages. I bet she doesn’t even remember what was said.”