But my mother had severe anxiety, though she’d never admit that anxiety was a real illness and would rather suffer than go to a psychiatrist or take medicine for it. And lately, it’d been worse, much worse. She had trouble sleeping, partly because of the anxiety, partly because of the chemo and the steroids that were part of her breast cancer treatment. I’d told her that she could call me whenever, wherever, but even then, she usually didn’t call me unless it was particularly bad.
So I picked up the call.
“Wei? Ma?” As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I caught a glimpse of Anna’s incredulous face. Uh oh.
“Sorry to call you so late, Ian,” my mom said in Mandarin. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“It’s okay, Ma. You can call me anytime. How was your day? Did you have chemo today?” I decided to talk to my mom for just a couple of minutes. I didn’t want to rush her or make her feel like she couldn’t call me, but I knew that Anna wouldn’t wait forever.
“Yes. I felt so nauseous. I couldn’t eat at all today. Your Ba tried to make braised pork for me but he burned it again, which only made me more nauseous.”
I chuckled. I definitely hadn’t gotten my cooking skills from my dad. “That’s Ba for you. But you have to try to eat, Ma. If you can’t sleep, maybe you should eat something now?” Guilt and hope warred in my chest at the prospect of ending the call so quickly.
“I will, I will. But I haven’t heard from you in a few days. Where are you?”
“Ma, I’m at my friend Cassie’s wedding, remember? I told you about it last week.” At the reminder of how my mom’s memory had become increasingly spotty, hope glimmered and died, leaving only guilt. My mom deserved better.
She grunted. “How’s the wedding?”
I stared at the bathroom door, willing it to stay closed. Just a couple more minutes. “It’s been fun. The food was pretty good. They had a buffet line with steak and halibut. The venue is a gorgeous barn. And I’ve met some...interesting people.”
“Any pretty girls?” my mom teased. She desperately wanted grandchildren, and after her cancer diagnosis, she reminded me of that fact quite frequently. As her only child, I had the dubious privilege of fulfilling (or crushing) her hopes and dreams.
“Ah, yes. Lots,” I said, though I’d really only noticed one.
I turned around when I heard the bathroom door open behind me. Anna wore her shoes and my jacket and had cleaned herself up as well as she could. Her hair was a bit lopsided and there were wet marks on her dress—possibly from the counter, possibly from one of us. But she was stiff as a statue, no longer a playful sex kitten. She stonily shook her head at me and made to slip away back into the party.
“Ma? Sorry, I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise. Wan an.” Goodnight. I hung up and hurried after her, buckling my belt as I went.
“Hey, hold up, can we talk?” I asked.
She stopped and looked at me, her face grim. “That was a mistake.” She tried to turn away, but I grabbed her arm.
“Anna, wait, I—”
She jerked her arm out of mine and walked away. I didn’t follow, just stared after her. From the hard look in her eyes and the set of her jaw, I doubted that she would stop and listen to me, no matter what I did.
A moment later, Cassie and her maid of honor (Jessa?) exited the reception area. “Ian!” Cassie walked up and sloppily threw her arms around me. She was clearly drunk, but still blissful and glowing as only a new bride could be. “Was Anna out here with you?” She gave me a sly look and punched my arm. “She looked kinda…” she leaned in and whispered loudly, “sexed up.” Cassie winked at me and Jessa cracked up like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
I shrugged. A gentleman never kissed and told.
Cassie put her arm around my shoulders and slurred, “You know, she could use a guy like you. She’s always going after wild good-for-nothings. You should totally go after her.”
I sighed. “I don’t think she’d like that.” A thought occurred to me, and I turned to look drunk Cassie in the eye. Surely her filters were long gone by now. “By the way, why doesn’t she date Asian guys?”
Cassie disappointed me and shook her head. “Why don’t you ask her?” She pulled me and Jessa with her towards the bathroom.
I gently tried to extract my arm from Cassie’s grasp, but she was a climber too, and her grip strength was formidable. “I tried, but she wouldn’t tell me.”
Cassie stopped, then let go of my arm and very solemnly put her hands on my shoulders. “D-daddy issues.” She hiccuped.
Ah, Cassie. So reliable. Jessa, who was slightly less drunk, must have realized that that was probably too much information. She squinted at me and said, “You’ve got a little…something.” She gestured at her own chin while pulling Cassie upright and leading her the rest of the way to the bathroom. I wiped my chin off with my palm and turned to walk back to the reception area.
A moment later, Cassie exclaimed, “There’s a condom in here!”
I walked faster. I glanced around the dining hall and dance floor, but didn’t see Anna anywhere. There was no sign of her, even after checking the cake and coffee area, as well as the terrace. So I headed back to my table and sat down to think.
Daddy issues? Was her dad a misogynistic asshole, and she didn’t want to date anyone even remotely similar to him? Or perhaps he was racist, and she was trying (or not trying) to
