And Ian and I got to know each other at the slow and leisurely pace that he’d promised. We’d started out all wrong before, but now I could sense that we’d have a long time to learn everything about each other. I was in no rush, and neither was he.
But even so, I knew that, sooner or later, I’d have to meet his family.
The thought still scared me a little.
◆◆◆
It happened a few months later.
“How do I look?”
“Like a little skank.”
I playfully slapped Ian’s arm, then asked him again, “How do I look?”
He kissed my temple, eyes laughing. “Beautiful, as usual.”
I smoothed my sundress and stared at the house before me. We were at Ian’s aunt’s house in Dolores Heights, and it was huge, daunting, and likely full of Chinese people, given that it was his mom’s birthday party.
He took my hand and gently pulled me up the steps. “C’mon. You’ll do great. They’re all basically me, just older or younger or more feminine.”
“Not more masculine?” I joked.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Is it even possible to get manlier than this?” he said, alternately flexing his pecs at me.
I shook my head, chortling, then followed him up the steps and through the door.
“Ayi?” he called. “Ma?”
We stepped into the house, took off our shoes, and looked around.
The walls were a simple white, the floors and furnishings hardwood, all matching golden oak. The floor by the entryway was littered with dozens of pairs of shoes, the hooks on the walls overloaded with colorful sweaters and jackets. I swallowed a flash of panic at the thought of meeting that many people.
They were just people. Ian’s people.
I took a deep breath and walked further in.
There were voices coming from outside, from the backdoor in the kitchen. It sounded like everyone was in the backyard. At the familiar sounds of loud Mandarin, the savory smells of grilled meat, soy and garlic...my stomach clenched. I needed a moment to collect myself. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom first,” I said.
“Do you want me to wait here for you?” Ian asked, concerned.
I faked a little smile. “No, it’s okay. You should go greet your family. I’ll come out in a bit.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Bathroom’s down the hall and on the left.” He walked towards the backdoor. “If you want me to come back in or anything, just text or call.”
“Thanks, babe.” I silently crept into the bathroom and closed the door.
Unlike the rest of the house, the bathroom was papered with little yellow flowers. A plain, grassy green shower curtain enclosed the tub, and the toilet had a matching green chenille lid cover. There were several toothbrushes and sets of toiletries by the sink—more reminders of how many people awaited me outside.
I lifted the toilet lid, peed, then sat for a few minutes, trying to prepare myself for all of the questions and judgment that were likely to come. I didn’t want to face—
The door opened, and Ian’s mom stepped in, froze. Our eyes met for one agonizing moment.
Then she slowly backed out and silently closed the door.
I stared at the closed door and tried not to panic. His mom. She’d just caught me on the toilet. With my panties around my ankles. Then backed out without saying anything, like Homer into the bushes.
I focused on breathing as I hurriedly got up and wiped, then tried to flush the toilet. But to my utter horror, it only dribbled and got slightly fuller.
There was a knock at the door. “Anna, na matong huai le.” It was still Ian’s mom, and she was speaking Mandarin to me. Surprisingly, that part of my brain wasn’t as rusted over and full of cobwebs as I’d thought. I easily understood her to say, “Anna, that toilet is broken.”
“Really?!” Shit.
“If you open the door, I can help you.”
“Ah, it’s okay, Ayi, I’ll try to fix it.” While she wasn’t my aunt, I remembered that it was what I was supposed to call her in Mandarin.
I lifted the toilet tank cover to see if there was anything wrong. The tank had water and the fill-valve-flapper thingy seemed to be working just fine. It was probably just a clog in the toilet then, but I didn’t see a plunger anywhere. Damn.
My first time interacting with Ian’s family and I’d clogged their toilet? I hadn’t even met them yet and already I was humiliating myself. No doubt I’d be a complete laughingstock for years to come, known to them only as Ian’s weird girlfriend who didn’t know how to use a toilet. A tiny part of me knew that it was ridiculous to think so, but I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes as I struggled to stem the flow of negative thoughts.
Another knock on the door, then Ian’s mom’s voice again. “Anna, let me help you.”
I knew I couldn’t do anything about the clog. So I blinked away my tears, squared my shoulders, and threw open the door to find Ian’s mom still standing there. She was a full head shorter than me, with kindly eyes and beautiful laugh-lines in the corners, and her hair was shorter and grayer than in the picture I’d seen in Ian’s old condo. With a purplish-blue button-down shirt and black silk pants under her pink apron, and pure white house slippers on her feet, she was the picture-perfect Asian mom.
She was utterly intimidating. And somewhat familiar.
“Ayi. The toilet is clogged.” I met her eyes, then looked down, ashamed.
She stepped past me and glanced at the toilet, then nodded, as if this were a common occurrence. I was so glad that I hadn’t taken a shit. “I’m going to get the plunger.”
“Xiexie, Ayi.” Thanks, auntie.
I waited by my toilet of shame, hoping that no one else would come by, until she came back a minute later with a plunger. I reached to take it from her, but she continued into the bathroom.
“Wo lai ba, Ayi,”
