Page 20

Twenty

MILLIE

Millie likes Oliver. Like, really likes him, in a genuine way that she hasn’t felt in a long time. They’ve hung out two more times now, and she’s pretty sure he likes her too. Usually she’s so good at telling when guys are into her; she can sense it in the way their gazes touch her, quick and shy, darting away when she makes eye contact. But with Oliver, she can’t be sure, and it’s because she likes him, and the liking him is clouding her judgment. Father and Mother would—

It’s best to not dwell on what Father and Mother would do.

Last night, Mother had knocked on her door before coming in—that’s what they do, they knock, then without waiting for a reply, they go in. “What’s going on with this guy you’re seeing?” Mother had asked.

“We’re taking it slow. Being careful,” Millie said to her.

Mother had regarded Millie with such an intensity that Millie felt her skin shriveling, every inch of her wanting to hide from Mother. Somewhere out there , she thought, there are young women who aren’t afraid of their mothers.

“If it’s not going anywhere, end it,” Mother said finally. “You don’t want to get hurt, Millie.”

Millie nodded, the knots in her muscles loosening ever so slightly. See , she told herself, Mother is just being caring. She cares about me.

“One more date,” Mother had said. “Then, if nothing happens, move on. I’ve taught you better than this.”

More than anything, Millie hates disappointing Mother. She nodded again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Young people nowadays,” Mother had muttered as she left the room.

And now, as Millie sits on a picnic blanket at Golden Gate Park, she can’t help stealing multiple glances at Oliver. He’s rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and is taking out food he’s prepared at home, and the sight is just so unbelievably sexy.

“—has been teaching me for weeks, and I think she’ll be proud of me,” he says. He stops and waves a hand in front of Millie’s face. “Earth to Millie.”

“Sorry,” she says, snapping out of her daze.

“What were you thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Millie says, squashing all thoughts of Mother deep, deep down. Quick, change the subject. She focuses on the containers of food. “Wow, Vera taught you how to make these?”

“Yup. I’ve been going to her place every week for cooking lessons. It’s weird, I grew up in a pretty patriarchal household, and my mom was the one who cooked every meal. After she died, my dad took over, but he never got into it, you know? Like, I got the sense that he only cooked out of necessity. There was no love in the food. It was bland, and he rotated between three or four dishes. When I moved out, I didn’t even think to learn how to cook or anything. I think that subconsciously, I’d internalized the whole gendered bullshit, and I was expecting my future wife to cook for me. God, I sound like an asshole.” He scratches the back of his head, then adds, “And that’s probably because I was. But I realized I need to work on myself. Unlearn all of the misogynistic crap I grew up with. Learn to cook actual good food. And Vera’s a great teacher. I’m lucky to have her.”

“Wow,” Millie says. She hadn’t thought it would be possible to like him even more than she already does, but here they are.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ramble. Okay, so here we have roast duck sandwiches, sweet and sour fish, and scallion oil noodles. And for dessert, black sticky rice with coconut cream.”

“Wow,” Millie says again. Can she not think of better things to say, for goodness’ sake? When she is with other men, Millie is sweet and funny and cute, and when she is with Oliver, she is reduced to one-word answers only.

Mother’s voice flashes through her mind. Last chance; if nothing happens, end it.

Millie knows Mother is right. She doesn’t want to waste her time on someone who doesn’t know what he wants. She deserves more than that. She needs to know if he likes her too.

“Here you go,” Oliver says, handing her one of the roast duck sandwiches.

Millie takes a bite, and it is delicious. The duck skin is crispy, the flesh juicy, and there are julienned cucumbers and green onions in the sandwich that take it to a whole new level of freshness. “This is so good.”

“Mmm. Oh yeah, good job, me,” Oliver says, his mouth full.

Ugh, even when he talks with his mouth full, he’s still so cute. Millie puts the sandwich down on her napkin.

“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.” Can she say it? She can. Nope, she can’t. “There’s something I—” She chokes on the words and has to start over. “Oliver, I want to—” That came out sounding so wrong, and now Oliver looks worried, and can she blame him? Desperation catches hold of her, and she lifts her hand and places it woodenly on top of his. Oh god, this is painful.

Oliver looks down at his hand, then back up at her. Then realization dawns. Then, horrifyingly, horror appears on his face. Just for a split second, but still. Millie spots it and snatches her hand back.

“Millie—”

“Never mind,” she says quickly.

“No, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” She gathers her things. Her face is tingling, numb. She feels like she’s been slapped.

“Wait, Millie. I’m so sorry. I thought we were just hanging out. As friends. I’m kind of clueless about these things, so, I’m sorry.”

As friends? The words trigger something inside her, and suddenly, Millie is furious. Friends? She glares up at him. “How the hell can you possibly think we’re just friends?”

Oliver’s mouth drops open. “I don’t know, I guess I assumed that anyone who wants to hang out with me wants to do so as a friend.”

“What about Vera setting us up?”

Oliver winces. “Vera is always trying to set people up. It doesn’t even matter who they are, as long as they’re single, she will try to look for a partner for them. I—I’m sorry that you didn’t know. I—she’s tried to set me up with five people since I got to know her.”

“I’ve been giving you all the signals!”

Oliver looks blankly at her, and Millie raises her hands before letting them drop limply by her sides. “So, you don’t like me at all?” she says, not caring how desperate it makes her sound.

“I mean, I like you as a friend. I’m not looking for anything like that right now. I—and Millie, I’m like ten years older than you.”

“So?” Since when is that an issue? None of the men she’s dated ever complained about her being younger than them, and some of them are twenty years older than her.

“So…I don’t know, it’s kind of a big age gap. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you like this, and I’m really sorry, Millie.”

Tears sting the back of Millie’s eyes. What’s so wrong with her that he doesn’t like her back? She hasn’t been rejected in years. Mother’s mantra has been tried and tested, and isn’t that what every man wants—a young and vulnerable woman? She reaches out for Oliver’s hand again. “It’s okay if you didn’t see me that way before. Maybe we can just have fun with each other. We’re both single and lonely, right? What’s wrong with taking pleasure in each other?” God, she sounds so desperate. She can’t even tell right now if she actually wants to be with him because she really wants to or because it’s what she thinks she should do. In the end, does the distinction between the two matter?

Oliver squeezes her hand before taking his away. “I’m alone, but I’m not lonely. And maybe you feel lonely, but you’re not alone. You’ve got me, but more importantly than that, you’ve got Vera.” He chuckles. “Vera will sort your life out, trust me. I was a mess when she found me, and I don’t know how she did it, but whatever she did, it worked. Millie, you’ve got good people around you.”

The kindness in his words only makes Millie feel even worse. Oliver isn’t even interested in having a sexual relationship with her when she’s practically offered it up to him on a silver platter. Has she lost it? Is she past her prime? Is she no longer young or vulnerable enough?

“Do you want me to take you home?” Oliver says.

Home. The thought of going back to Mother and Father right now makes Millie feel ill. They’ll know. They’ll see it on her face—she could never lie to them—and they won’t be happy that she’s wasted so much time with Oliver. A girl’s worth, they always say, is in her youth. Once it’s gone, the girl is worthless. Millie thinks about what they might do when they decide she’s worthless, and her belly twists so hard that she almost pukes.

“Do you want to go to Vera’s?”

She hears his voice from afar and feels herself nodding.

“Okay.” Oliver begins packing everything up without complaint, and Millie feels another stab of guilt that he’s gone to all this effort only for her to take one bite and then ruin everything. And he’s done all this because he sees her as a…friend. Is this what friends do for each other? What a strange and alien concept.

They are silent on the car ride to Vera’s. Millie keeps her gaze resolutely out of the window, and Oliver doesn’t try to make conversation. When they get to Vera’s, she jumps out of the car and rushes inside the shop without waiting for Oliver.

Vera is tending to customers inside the shop. “Oh, Millie. Just in time.”

“In time for what?”

“Tea, of course. Silly girl. Sit.” She peers out the window. “Is that Oliver with you?”

“Yeah,” Millie says without looking. She hopes Oliver doesn’t come inside.

“Oh, I guess he not coming in.” Vera waves at the window, and Millie breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god for that.

She takes a seat at the remaining empty table and watches Vera pouring the tea for her customers. Something in the way Vera moves sets Millie’s mind at ease. Her movements are slow and careful and gentle. The movements of a mom. Vera places a small teacup in front of Millie.

“Drink.”

The tea is so bitter that Millie grimaces when it touches her tongue, but the next moment, it turns honey-sweet. She sighs, closing her eyes and sinking into the chair, letting the comforting taste of it cleanse her spirits. How does Vera know exactly what to give her? Millie stays like that for a long time, sipping tea and keeping her eyes closed. When she opens them, the customers have gone.

“What happen, Millie?” Vera says, sitting down across from her.

“What do you mean?”

“You look like sad person.”

“That’s kind of rude.”

“Is it?” Vera takes a sip of her tea. “I know sad person because I use to be one. Also, Oliver text me and ask me to look after you.”

Ugh. Somehow, knowing that Oliver did that makes it even worse. Now Millie feels nothing but animosity toward him. How could she ever think he was attractive? He’s nothing but a wet, spineless mama’s boy.

“I’m fine,” Millie grumbles.

Vera looks like she’s about to say something, but the doorbell tinkles and Aimes walks in. Vera’s face brightens. “Aimes! Just in time for tea.”

“Hey, Vera,” Aimes says. “Sana and Julia mentioned how obsessed you are with protecting your skin from the sun. So look what I got you.” She takes something out from her bag. It looks like a normal visor, but then she tugs at it and an entire face shield unfolds. “Tada! It’s the latest visor design. It covers your entire face.”

“Wah!” Vera cries, putting it on and admiring it.

Millie watches with a small prick of envy. She should’ve thought of getting something for Vera, especially since Vera has done so much for her. But, no, Millie is nothing but a selfish girl who only knows how to take and take and take. No wonder Oliver didn’t want her.

“Hey, Millie, how’s it going?” Aimes says, sliding into the seat next to her.

Millie blinks and gives herself a mental shake of the head. “Yeah, fine. You?”

“I’m…” Aimes takes a deep breath. “Not amazing, but I think I’ll be okay.” Biting her lip, Aimes gives Millie a small smile. “I have something to confess to you.”

“To me?” Now Millie is thoroughly confused.

“Oh!” Vera says. “I just remember, need to take something from upstair. You girls talk, just ignore me.” With that very fake-sounding announcement, Vera clomps up the stairs, leaving the two of them alone.

“Yeah, so…” Aimes licks her lips. “Um, Xander and I weren’t really dating.”

“What?”

“Our relationship was fake, all of it was made up for social media. He’d come over to my place once a week, and we’d work super efficiently and make a whole bunch of reels, and that was that. We didn’t even hang out or anything. As soon as we were done, he was out the door.”

Millie’s head spins as she struggles to follow what Aimes is telling her. “But—I don’t—what? So you’re not his girlfriend?”

“No. Never was. I’m sorry I lied to you about it.”

Millie shakes her head. “You don’t owe me the truth. We barely know each other.”

Aimes’s expression is soft with sadness. “Yeah, I know. The truth is, I don’t have that many friends, and you know what’s funny, I never even realized it. I was living most of my life online, and online I’ve got a lot of followers and I considered them friends, but—ugh, I’m rambling. The other day, Vera got me to hang out with Sana and Julia—have you met Sana?”

Millie shakes her head.

“She’s really great. So’s Julia. I was spending time with them, and I realized that it’s been forever since I did that. Just hung out with other women and do nothing but chat. It was so nice. And, um, this is going to sound like we’re in kindergarten, but, um, I’d really like it if you and I could be friends too. We had fun at that influencer party, right?”

This is so far from what Millie has been expecting that for a moment, she can only sit there in stunned silence. Then Aimes’s words sink in, and a lovely warm glow spreads from Millie’s belly. A platonic friendship, pure and sweet. This, she realizes. This is exactly what she needs. A smile takes over her face and she nods. “Yes. I’d love that.”

“Awesome.”

Just at this moment, Vera bustles back down the stairs. Her timing is so impeccable that Millie has no doubt that Vera’s been listening the entire time, waiting for the right moment to come back down.

“Ah,” Vera calls out, “now we have kimchi cheese croissants.”

Millie accepts a warm croissant and takes a small bite, watching Vera and Aimes dig in, chatting and laughing easily with each other. It’s almost like watching a family sitcom, except somehow, Millie is in it. This is what a real family feels like. And she could be in it, as well. But only if she stops being Millie.

My name is Millie , her brain whispers. My name is Millie.

She grits her teeth so hard they clack. She’s so tired of being Millie. The need to be part of Vera’s family is so strong, so overwhelming. It’s impossible , her mind whispers. You can’t. You don’t belong. Go home. GO. HOME.

The conversation stops abruptly, and Millie realizes she’s just stood up so fast that her chair clatters to the floor. “I’m so sorry!” she says, bending over to pick up the chair. “Um. I have to go.” Without waiting for a reply, Millie rushes out of the shop and runs all the way to the bus stop.

Her heart thunders at her and her blood roars in her ears. Why is life so unfair? Why couldn’t she have a mother like Vera instead of the one she has now?

No. No use thinking like that. It won’t change anything. She needs to go back and forget everything, leave Vera and that entire mess with Oliver behind. Yes. That is what she will do. That is the right choice. These are good people, and she needs to stay far, far away from them.

“My name is Millie,” she whispers repeatedly, all the way back, and each time she does, the name settles more firmly in her mind.

When she gets back, she creeps as quietly as she can into the building. The walls are thin here, and she does not want to alert Mother—

“You’re home.”

Millie jumps and turns around guiltily. Mother stands there next to Father. Oh god. She’s told him. Of course she has. They’re the perfect married couple. No secrets between them.

“Yes,” she says meekly.

“How did it go?” Father says, his eyes glinting with eagerness.

It takes Millie a while to be able to swallow the knot in her throat so she can actually speak. “He’s not right for me.”

Displeasure tightens Mother’s face. “How so?”

“Well. He’s not interested in me.” There. Simple as that. The truth.

“Impossible,” Mother spits. “Why wouldn’t he be interested in you? Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

Father nods, scratching his chin. “Did you do something wrong?”

“No! I did everything like you taught me.” Only she doesn’t know if she did; she had been so infatuated by Oliver that it had blinded her. She licks her dry lips. Please, please let them believe her.

“If you did everything I taught you, you would be in his bed by now,” Mother says.

“We’re disappointed in you, Millie,” Father says.

Millie bows her head. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re disappointed in you because you lied to us.”

Her head snaps up, horror dancing in her eyes. “I didn’t—”

“You spent the day with that old woman,” Mother says. “The tea shop owner.”

“That wasn’t—it was only an hour or two, and only because—”

“Shut up,” Father says quietly. He never raises his voice, not even when he’s angry, which somehow makes him all the more terrifying. “And listen to what you are going to do to make this up to us.”

Millie shakes her head. “Please, don’t. She’s a poor old woman who lives on her own. I don’t want to—”

“Want?” Mother says. “Since when does what you want matter, Daughter?”

Millie thinks of the sweet, warm laughter between Vera and everyone she knows. Normally, Millie would cower and say, yes, she’ll do it, whatever they ask of her. But when she thinks of that moment back in Vera’s teahouse and what Father and Mother want her to do to Vera, she can’t bring herself to say yes. “I won’t do it,” she says.

Father and Mother exchange a glance. “Then maybe the time has come to teach you a lesson,” Mother says. She reaches out for Millie.

There is only enough time for Millie to squeak, “No,” before she is yanked forward, painfully, unforgivingly, and then she finds that she can’t say anything at all.