Nine
MILLIE
What has she done? What has she gotten herself into? This is completely the opposite of what she’d been expecting when she told Vera about Thomas. Although, well, come to think of it, what had Millie expected when she told Vera?
Well, that was the thing. She’d been expecting much of the same that she’d gotten used to over the past few years, and that is a big load of nothing. Of course that was what Millie had expected when she spilled her guts out to a random old woman over tea. Any reasonable person would think the same. What could this nice old lady do, right? Right?
And yet, here she is in a house full of strangers and delicious food, and she wants to keep eating, but also her stomach is clenched so hard with anxiety that eating is out of the question, which is a shame because the food is so, so good, and—and—
Oh god, Millie is spiraling. She takes a deep breath and returns to her mantra: I am Millie. I am okay. I have done nothing wrong.
“You okay?” the pretty blond girl next to her says quietly.
Millie nods. She’s about to ask the blond girl how she knew Thomas when Vera claps for attention. Which she gets, obviously. Millie has the feeling that Vera is used to getting attention whenever she wants to.
“Right!” Vera says. “We go around the table and say how we know this Thomas or Xander or John.”
Silence befalls the table. To Millie’s horror, Vera points at her. “You,” Vera says. “You bring the case to me, so you start.”
“Uh—” Millie looks around with the desperation of a trapped animal. “Um, okay. Yes. Right. Thomas was my friend.”
“Who’s Thomas?” Aimes says.
“Thomas is Xander,” Vera says.
Aimes narrows her eyes. “I don’t get it.”
Vera sighs impatiently. “Thomas and Xander and John are all same person. Aiya, how come you don’t know all this about your boyfriend? When I date boy, I know everything about them, even their blood type.”
Millie’s chest constricts. Boyfriend? This beautiful girl with hair like honey and eyes like storm clouds is…Thomas’s girlfriend? Shame curdles Millie’s gut. No wonder Thomas hadn’t been interested in her.
Vera continues her lecture, oblivious to the storm raging inside Millie. “You listen to me, you young people, follow my advice when you date, you will not regret it. First thing you should find out when you dating someone is…?”
“Is that a rhetorical question—oh, you actually want us to answer,” Aimes says. “Hmm, their star sign?”
“No!” Vera snaps. “Although, well, yes, you should find out if they are born in the year of ox or ram, etcetera. But that is not first thing, that is maybe the third thing. Anyone else?”
“What they do for a living?” Robin pipes up.
“No! Aiya, what they teaching you kids in school? Although, well, yes, you should find out that also. Maybe that one should be second thing. Good job. Okay, but first thing you find out is: Who are their family?”
Qiang Wen nods in agreement, but everyone else looks dubious.
“If you know their family, you know a lot about them. Whether they are from good background or not. You trust me,” Vera says, wagging a finger at them. “Aimes, next time you remember, must meet his parents first before you even date him.”
“I…don’t think that’s possible, but thanks for the advice,” Aimes mutters. Then she turns to Millie.
Millie finds herself at a loss for words at the sight of Aimes’s gray eyes trained on hers. She envies girls like Aimes. Girls who are effortlessly beautiful, but more than that, girls who effortlessly belong. And everything about Aimes is so effortless. Even the way her silk scarf drapes over her shoulders so neatly and naturally. Millie has grappled with scarves a million times and still she can’t get them to fall over her shoulders like that.
“So, how did you meet Xan?”
Xan. Just like that, so cool. Millie sounds the word out in her mind, turning the syllable over and feeling the shape of it. Xan. So unlike the Thomas she knew. But that was just it. She didn’t know him, maybe. “Um.” Her mind flails to come up with an answer. “I—well, we lived next to each other.”
Aimes’s eyes widen. “Wow, you fancy.”
“Huh?” Now Millie really is at a loss.
“Xan lived in Haight-Ashbury, right? Houses there cost like, what, five mil at least?”
“What?” Millie can hardly keep the shock out of her voice. “He lived—” She stops herself just in time. Her thoughts race ahead of her. She’s already made a huge mistake telling them that she and Thomas were neighbors. Too close to the truth. She needs to back away from that now.
But of course, it’s too late. Vera, who is apparently an actual investigator instead of a lonely old woman with too much time on her hands, has noticed the suspicious air about Millie. “Thomas lie about where he live?” she says, her sharp eyes on Millie. “He does not live in Haight-Ashbury?”
Millie shakes her head dumbly. “I…I don’t know. Maybe he has another place that I didn’t know about. I mean, we weren’t very close. I hardly knew anything about him.”
“Oh, I think you a lot closer than you say,” Vera says. Then, thank god, Vera turns to Aimes. “Have you not been to Thomas’s house?”
Aimes shakes her head, looking guilty.
“Aiya!” Vera snaps. “What kind of relationship you two in? How can you not go to boyfriend’s house?”
Aimes groans and puts her hands over her face. “Oh my god, it was a very casual relationship, okay? We weren’t ever going to get married or anything like that. We were just dating.”
Vera harrumphs. “I don’t like this word ‘dating.’ Sounds so unserious. Relationships are very serious; they are not just between two people, they are between two families.”
Millie’s heart aches because she understands it all too well. Back home in Yunnan, a relationship is exactly the way Vera describes; it doesn’t just involve two people but two entire families. The rules are different here, and she’s had to adjust her understanding of so many things to get them. And as much as she hates to admit it, she’s jealous of Aimes, and of Thomas, who seemed like they’d had a complete understanding of the rules here. She’s had enough attention. She needs to divert some of it. Turning to TJ, Millie says, “And what about you? How did you know Thomas?”
TJ tugs at his shirt collar. “I knew him as Xander, actually. He was one of my clients. Not much else to say aside from that.” He gives a weak laugh.
Next to him, Robin rolls her eyes.
“Oh,” Aimes says. “You’re his talent manager? Xan used to mention you. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Yeah,” TJ says with less enthusiasm than Millie would’ve expected. “But I was never close to him or anything. I mean, not to say I don’t work closely with my clients, I just—”
“Oh my god, Dad,” Robin groans. “This is painful. He’s going through a tough time because he’s being canceled, and it’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” TJ says.
Robin rolls her eyes, but Millie spots the tiniest hint of a tremor in Robin’s chin. The atmosphere is so thick Millie feels like she can’t breathe. She’s about to blurt out something when the doorbell rings. Vera gets up, tells them to remain where they are, and bustles to the front door. There is a male voice along with a child saying, “Hi, Grandma.”
“My little Em-Em,” Vera says, pure love palpable in her voice. She comes back to the dining room holding the hand of a little girl, a man who looks to be in his early thirties behind them. “Everyone, this my granddaughter Emma, and this her uncle Oliver.”
“Oh,” Oliver says, obviously surprised by their presence. “Sorry, Vera, I didn’t know you were having a dinner party. Didn’t mean to crash it.”
“Don’t be silly. You take a seat here, next to Millie. She seems like good girl. Millie, Oliver is good husband material.”
Millie’s entire face feels as though it’s burst into flames. Then again, it seems like Oliver is about to have an aneurysm, so at least she’s not the only one dying of embarrassment.
“Vera,” Oliver sighs. “Behave, or I’m taking Emma home.”
“Don’t be silly,” Vera says. “We have dumplings.”
As Oliver squeezes in between Millie and Aimes, he catches Millie’s eye. Her face, which has already burst into flames moments ago, melts into bubbling lava. Because, oh my goodness, Oliver is very handsome. And Millie cannot be trusted around handsome men.
“Hi, I’m Oliver,” he says.
“Millie,” she says. Her voice comes out so tiny that Oliver has to lean in a little to catch it, and the nearness of him makes Millie even more flustered. “Millie,” she says again, and this time it’s a little too loud, and god, she wishes she wasn’t so bad at this. She isn’t usually bad at talking to men, but it’s the whole Aimes-being-Thomas’s-girlfriend thing, and the whole Vera-investigating-Thomas’s-death thing, and there are just way too many things going on right now.
“Let me guess, Vera has rounded up a group of complete strangers and is spearheading some sort of inappropriate investigation that borders on illegal?” Oliver says to her.
Millie’s head shoots up. Because, yes, exactly. She nods, and Oliver sighs and gives a wry smile. “Yep, that’s Vera.”
She watches as he introduces himself to the rest of the table. Everyone else seems unfazed or, at the very least, less fazed. Emma is insisting on hand-feeding Robin a dumpling, and Robin is going, “Kid, get your paws out of my face.” Vera is chatting to Qiang Wen in Cantonese, and Aimes and TJ are talking about social media. Millie seems to be the only one who’s ill at ease, and she supposes it makes sense, because Millie is the only one with a dark secret—multiple dark secrets, actually.
“So, how do you know Vera?” Oliver says.
“She found me outside of the police station and decided to help me out. What about you? Are you her son?”
“Not biologically, but I think she’s pretty much adopted me. And a few others.” Oliver spoons some pork onto her plate before serving himself. A tiny spark of pleasure shoots through Millie at the gesture. “My brother was found dead in Vera’s shop last year, and she decided to investigate his death. That was how I got to know her.”
“Oh my god, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Oliver chews thoughtfully. “Thanks. It was a pretty dark time for all of us involved. Thank god Vera was there. She kind of gathered the four of us—we were pretty messed up, all of us—and took us under her wing, even though she also suspected each one of us of killing my brother.”
Millie’s head is spinning. “Okay, that sounds really…”
“Weird? Messed up? Like a mindfuck? Yeah, it was all of those things. But she worked it out in the end. And I’m grateful I have Vera and the others in my life.”
Millie nods. Should she be grateful, too, that Vera is taking an interest in Thomas’s case, or should she be terrified about what Vera might find out?
“What do you do for a living, Millie?”
The answer flops out automatically. She’s had a lot of practice doing it. “I’m an air stewardess for private planes.” “Stewardess,” not “attendant,” because it sounds sexier. And “private planes” instead of “commercial jets” so no one can go, Nice, which flight? Which airline? She even knows some of the basic training that flight attendants had to go through, just to make her lie extra convincing.
“That sounds like hard work,” Oliver says.
Millie is somewhat taken aback by this. Most men, when they hear she’s an air stewardess, say stuff like “That’s hot” or “That’s a cushy job” or something else that’s equal parts creepy and demeaning. “Yeah,” she says after a pause. “It is.”
“I can imagine. Private planes would mean catering to the rich and famous, and they’re not known for being easy to work for. Not to mention the jet lag.”
Millie nods, her face reddening with guilt. He thinks she’s a hard worker. She can’t take any more of this. Time to deflect. “What about you?”
“I’m just a supe,” Oliver says. “I do minor repairs for the tenants in the building.”
“Oliver is writer,” Vera says.
Millie almost jumps. How long has Vera been listening to them?
“I don’t know if I would call myself a writer—” Oliver says.
“Silly boy, of course you are. He is freelance writer, has written for the San Francisco Chronicle and Bay Area Times . Very good articles too. I frame them up in my tea shop, you know.”
Oliver grins at Vera, and there’s so much affection in his expression that it makes him look like a little boy.
Millie looks away, her emotions warring inside her. She makes a big deal out of checking her watch, then says, “Oh no, look at the time. I have an early flight tomorrow, so I should go.”
“Oliver, walk her out,” Vera says with a sly smile.
“You don’t have to,” Millie says, but already Oliver is getting up.
“Make sure she don’t get mugged before she get in Uber or bus or whatever,” Vera says sternly.
“Okay, Vera,” Oliver says.
Millie says goodbye to everyone, but before they can go down the staircase, Vera comes after them and pushes a heavy container into Millie’s hands. “Some Chinese barbecue pork for you,” Vera says. “You should eat more, you are too skinny.”
Tears prick Millie’s eyes. When was the last time someone had looked out for her like this? She manages a nod and turns away before Vera can see the tears that are threatening to fall.
Outside, Millie wraps her jacket tightly around herself, wishing she could disappear. Oliver stuffs his hands inside his pockets and gives her a quick smile. “Do you need me to call you an Uber?”
He’s so nice. Why does he have to be so nice? She must get away from him. She mustn’t let them see her with him. “No, it’s fine. I’m taking the bus.”
“Okay. I’ll wait with you.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Oh, I really do. I don’t want to get in trouble with Vera.”
She can’t help laughing at that. A young, confident man like Oliver being scared of Vera is somehow hilarious and yet utterly believable. They walk in amicable silence to the bus stop. Her phone dings with a text. She pretends not to hear it. It dings again. And again.
“You can get that; I don’t mind,” Oliver says.
“Sorry.” She hurriedly takes it out and checks her messages. They’re all from Mother.
Curfew’s over.
Where are you?
Millie. Come home NOW.
Her mouth has turned into a desert. She tries to type quickly, but her fingers have gone numb. She manages to tap in OMW back before the phone slips out of her fingers and falls onto the sidewalk.
“Oh no,” Oliver says, bending over to retrieve it.
Millie’s instincts take over and before she knows it, she’s practically assaulted Oliver in her haste to grab the phone from his hands. By the time she snatches the phone away from him, her breathing is shallow, and she’s sure she must’ve scared him away.
Instead, Oliver says, “Sorry. I should’ve—I didn’t mean to pry. I promise I didn’t see anything.”
“No!” she cries. It kills her to think that he’s blaming himself for her weirdness. “It’s just.” Just what? It is true that she reacted so fast because she didn’t want him to see what’s on her phone. “Sorry, I just get weird about my phone. It’s not you.”
“Anyway, I hope it’s not broken.”
She checks it. There is a crack on one corner of the screen, but it seems to be working okay. “It’s fine.” She stuffs it back into her pocket.
They wait in silence for a few seconds, then Oliver says, “Not to be weird, and feel free to say no, but can I give you my number?”
She gapes at him.
“Uh. I didn’t wanna ask for your number in case you didn’t feel safe giving it to me,” he says. “Is that weird? I don’t really know how to do these things.”
“No, that’s not weird at all. It’s incredibly thoughtful, actually.” She doesn’t deserve thoughtful. She shouldn’t take his number. She shouldn’t take his anything. She should disappear and hope Vera and everybody else forgets about her. But Millie finds herself taking her phone out once more and opening her address book. She taps on New Contact and says, “Yes, I would love your number.” She didn’t think she could possibly hate herself more than she already does, and yet here she is, reaching new lows. The smile of relief that Oliver gives her nearly tips her over the edge, and when the bus arrives a minute later, Millie jumps on quickly. She waves bye at Oliver, then spends the ride back staring at his number, trying to make herself delete it. Nothing good can come out of this.
But instead of deleting it, Millie does something else. Something completely ridiculous, something so unhinged that she doesn’t dare to stop in case she thinks better of it. The bus is about to pass through a stop in front of a Target when she shouts, “Stop!” She clambers out, hurries into Target, and purchases the first prepaid phone she finds. It costs $19.99, plus tax, and Millie tears open the package as soon as she’s finished paying. She saves Oliver’s number in her new phone, then stuffs it deep into her handbag, covering it with her makeup bag and cardigan.
When she gets back and Mother grabs her arm and practically drags her to their place to interrogate her, Millie thinks about the secret phone. Just for a second. Then she banishes all thoughts of it and forces herself to focus.
“Why’re you spending so much time at a tea shop in Chinatown?” Mother says.
Millie doesn’t ask Mother how she knew about Vera’s tea shop. Mother and Father are all-knowing. They are like gods. Sometimes, she feels like they know things before they happen.
Still, Millie tries lying anyway. “I just stopped by for some tea,” she says meekly. Mother and Father like it when she’s meek. Actually, most people like it when she’s meek. From the corner of her eye, she spots Mina peeping out from her doorway, and Millie gives a shake of her head. Mina disappears, though no doubt her little sister is listening. Days like these, Millie misses her big sister Yara so much. Millie has never quite known how to be a big sister to anybody. She had hoped that she’d be the last, that Mother and Father would stop having kids, but of course they haven’t. Mother and Father love being parents. She wonders, for the millionth time: What would Yara do? But Yara wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
“You’re wasting time. Time you should be spending on your job,” Father growls.
“This old woman who owns the shop,” Mother says, “she rich?”
Millie shakes her head quickly. Too quickly?
“What about the guy who walked you out?” Father says.
Millie knows better than to ask how Father knows about Oliver.
“He’s nobody.” His number burns a hole in her pocket.
“They all are,” Mother says. “Until they aren’t. He seems nice. Nice is good.”
“Nice is easy,” Father says.
“And we like easy, don’t we, Millie?”
Millie looks down at the floor and gives a small nod. She should’ve known better than to go to Vera’s tonight. She knows she’s bad news. They don’t deserve to be around someone like her. And she wishes that when her phone fell, it had smashed beyond repair so Oliver couldn’t have given her his number. So many wishes. It’s too bad none of them would do her any good now.