I’m what you’d call a nervous flyer. I don’t do well on aircraft. I prefer my feet on solid ground, thank you very much. I especially dislike the parts that involve taking off and landing. Because those are the times where you can’t pretend like you’re not in a plane. But if I had to choose between the two events, my least favorite is during takeoff when you can feel the absence of runway below you and the wheels have begun to retract into the plane. That specific moment is the one I was currently experiencing as my sister, Anna May, and I left a snow-covered Cleveland Hopkins International Airport for sunny Irvine, California.
My ears had already begun to clog as we flew through pressure changes, and when I pried one eye open because I heard my sister’s muffled voice lecturing me, I saw her shaking her head. “Lana Lee, let go of my armrest, I’d like to put my arm down some time this decade.”
I was holding on for dear life—my sister relaxing her arm could wait until we safely ascended above the clouds. “I can’t hear you,” I replied.
“What did I say before we got on the plane? I remember specifically telling you to chew gum. But no, per usual, you refuse to listen to me.” My sister folded her arms over her chest and turned to face the aisle.
“Are you going to be a nag the entire trip?” I asked.
She twisted her head back in my direction. “I thought you couldn’t hear me.”
“It comes and goes.”
“Uh-huh.”
If you were wondering why on earth I would take my sister on any sort of trip with me, I’d like to preface the topic by saying that it wasn’t my idea. Anna May invited herself.
My sister and I are like oil and water, we just don’t mesh. I wish we did. I’d like to say that my sister and I were the best of friends, and we shared all our deepest, darkest secrets and aspirations, but then I’d be lying, and swear to God, I am trying to cut down on that sort of thing.
“Can you at least lift the shade so I can see what’s going on out there?” Anna May asked.
“If you wanted to look out the window, then you should have sat in the window seat,” I said, feeling my stubborn side flair up. We’d argued over the aisle seat like teenagers arguing over a video game controller. I tried to switch seats and sit somewhere else completely, but the flight was booked solid and there weren’t many friendly faces at five a.m.
“You know I like to be in the aisle seat. You always fall asleep and then trying to wake you up is impossible. I like to get up and stretch my legs, unlike you.”
“It’s safer with the shade closed, trust me. Why don’t you look out the window over there?”
My sister groaned but said nothing further.
Anna May is what I’d label “the ideal daughter” and perhaps society’s definition of a proper lady. While I’m at it, she is also the stereotypically perfect example of what said society would deem the model Asian woman. She’s soft spoken yet assertive, she’s proper and dresses respectably. Her grasp of our cultural background is solid, and she can speak in both Mandarin and Hokkien—our Taiwanese dialect. She doesn’t drink often, has never touched a cigarette in her life, nor experimented with drugs. Early to bed, and early to rise. She watches her carb intake and tries to get to the gym at least three times a week.
Then there’s me, perhaps best referred to as the “black sheep” of the family. There is nothing soft spoken about me. I prefer confrontation—though I will admit, I like it on my terms—and I am certainly not proper. My hair is often a variety of colors that could be—and have been—described as both vibrant and “unnatural.” Currently, I’m rockin’ an interesting shade my stylist created and refers to as “mint chocolate chip.” She left my roots dark, faded the color through my strands with a mint dye and pulled it all together with ash blonde highlights. Don’t ask me how she pulled it off, but even my mom liked it.
Back to Anna May and me: I can’t speak Mandarin or Hokkien, but I can follow along in most circumstances. I drink regularly, but not in a problematic way, and I’ve danced with a cigarette or two in my time. It didn’t stick because I’d rather spend my money on shoes, books, and donuts—much different addictions. If I had my way, I’d be up all night and sleep all day, but alas my day job as restaurant manager at Ho-Lee Noodle House, our family’s business, keeps me on the straight and narrow—mostly. And I’m proud to say that I do have a gym membership—thanks to my roommate and best friend, Megan—but I’ve gone a whole two times in the past six months. One of
my New Year’s resolutions is to work on that very thing. Which gave me three more weeks to procrastinate every time Megan asks if I’d like to join her. Who wants to work out in the dead of winter anyways?
I was looking forward to the New Year. It’s always been my favorite holiday, bringing with it such hope for new possibilities and fresh starts. And a fresh start is exactly what I needed after a long year of shenanigans. It was part of the reason I’d begrudgingly agreed to take the trip so close to the holidays.
Otherwise, I would have argued with my mother a little more. Although winning a battle against Betty Lee is few and far between. But with business picking up at Ho-Lee Noodle House as holiday shoppers packed themselves into Asia Village, I thought I stood a good chance of winning the debate. I had not anticipated that both of my parents were more than willing to fill in so my sister and I could take this trip.
My mother—the gem that she is—signed me up for a restaurant convention unbeknownst to me. Not only had she volunteered me for this convention, she’d booked the flight and everything. Once my sister got word that I would be taking off to the West Coast for a week of “fun in the sun,” she invited herself as an escape route from dealing with her seemingly on-again boyfriend, Henry. He was still legally married and taking the scenic route to divorce land. Anna May wasn’t having it. But when she’d try to break things off with him, full-scale wooing began. I’m talking flowers, jewelry, a handbag that might be worth more than my annual salary … and the true lady that she is, Anna May had it all returned to sender. I tried to convince her to let me keep the handbag, at the very least, but was shut down quickly. Such a shame to see a good Valentino go to waste.
But thank God for my aunt Grace, the true hero of this story, who upon hearing about our traveling adventure stepped in and offered us her rental property on Balboa Island in Newport Beach—free of charge. Which at this time of year … well, let’s just say she was losing a pretty penny on us.
Shortly after a flight attendant came around with the drink cart, I fell asleep for the remainder of the flight, thanks to a miniature bottle of Jack Daniel’s. It didn’t feel like the right time to worry about the five-o’clock rule.
We landed at John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana shortly after eleven a.m. Once the plane had officially stopped moving and passengers began to unbuckle their safety belts, I lifted the window shade and was greeted by the warm California sun. This was beginning to feel like a good idea after all—gorgeous weather and sandy beaches were exactly what I needed.
As we walked onto the tarmac and out into the airport, the bustle of people traveling between gates and hurriedly rushing along with carry-on luggage brought a spring to my step. I was a businesswoman. On a business trip. My chin rose just a tad as we made our way to baggage claim.
Once outside in the fresh, balmy air, two things occurred to me almost immediately. One, there were a lot more Asians here than there were in Cleveland. And two, maybe I should have taken my gym membership a little more seriously.
Aunt Grace had instructed us to meet her in the airport’s cell phone waiting lot. We’d already passed the car by the time she stuck her head out the window to flag us down. To our surprise, she was in the back seat of a black town car that came complete with driver. “Over here, girls. Yoo-hoo!”
I turned to see Aunt Grace smiling from ear to ear as she waved her arm back and forth, her brilliant white teeth contrasting deeply against her ruby red lipstick. It was immediately obvious she was aware of the perils of sun exposure, because she’d shielded her eyes with large frame sunglasses so dark you couldn’t see through the lenses and a black floppy sunhat made of woven straw covered her head. And from what I could tell, she had her long, black hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, which surprised me. I’d never seen her wear her hair back.
The driver stepped out of the car, giving my sister and me a friendly nod. “Let me help you with your bags,” he offered. Dressed well in a black suit and tie, you could easily mistake him for some type of security detail. By my guess, he was hovering a little over middle age, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes behind his aviators, I could tell by his sharp jawline and full lips that he was an attractive man.
My aunt finally opened the door and spread her arms out, wiggling her fingers. “Come give your aunt Grace a hug.”
Anna May and I hugged her in unison. I caught her signature scent, Chanel No. 5, and it immediately took me back to my childhood. A brief memory of sitting on her lap as a kid passed through my mind and I squeezed her a little bit tighter. “It’s really good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, dear.” She returned the squeeze.
Once we had finished our hellos, we heard the trunk slam shut, and the driver gave my aunt a thumbs-up.
She clapped her hands together. “Well let’s get a move on, shall we? I’m sure you girls want to get out of those travel clothes and freshen up.”
Anna May and I got into the back seat of the car.
My aunt turned to the driver. “Charles, let’s head over to the Balboa property first, and then I want to take the girls for lunch.” She twisted in her seat to face us. “There is a great little noodle place that opened up and I think you’ll both enjoy it.”
My sister and I both smiled, and when my aunt turned around, Anna May raised her eyebrows at me. Nothing needed to be spoken verbally, I knew we were both wondering about Charles and at what point my aunt had gotten herself a driver.
Grace Richardson, formally known as Guang-Hai Ho, my mother’s younger sister, came to the United States after my mom had already left Taiwan to study abroad. My mom came to Cleveland with the intention of studying business and hadn’t meant to stay beyond obtaining a college degree, but she’d met my father and it changed the direction of her life.
Aunt Grace, however, had a different objective in leaving home. She wanted to marry rich—and marry rich she did. Unfortunately, it didn’t stick. My uncle, Glenn Richardson III, who I haven’t seen in over a decade, hadn’t been looking for a go-getter type of wife. And though my aunt originally yearned for a lavish, carefree lifestyle, she’d quickly found that she enjoyed working and adventures.
She and my mom are completely different people. “Polar opposites” wouldn’t be a strong enough phrase to truly express their differences. My mother struggled with English and didn’t much concern herself with improving it, putting her focus more on creating a family and providing a solid business that could be passed down to my sister and me.
My aunt, however, had excelled in picking up the new language and had become a very prominent writer for SoCalSun Publishing, a media company that focused on lifestyle magazines for the West Coast and a few travel publications for exotic destinations.
As far as I knew, she’d never entertained the idea of having children. After the divorce, her main objective was to pursue the career that allowed her a chance to see everything there was to see in the world.
“How was the flight?” Aunt Grace asked.
Anna May beat me to the punch. “It would have been better if Lana had loosened up a little bit. I’m pretty sure her fingerprints are etched in the armrest of row thirteen.”
I made sure my sister was facing me before I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to waste the gesture.
Aunt Grace laughed. “Lana, are you still afraid of flying? I told you, if you would come visit me more often and get used to being in the air, it wouldn’t bother you as much.”
“I know, it’s just hard getting the chance to leave these days. Running the restaurant keeps me pressed for time.”
Anna May snorted. “And don’t forget all your gallivanting around town poking into things that clearly aren’t your business. That’s an enormous time suck.”
That caused Charles to glimpse in the rearview mirror, almost as if he wanted to reassess me and see if he could figure out what type of things someone like myself would be poking into.
“I thought you gave up your little sleuthing side business?” Aunt Grace asked, twisting in her seat again. “Last time I talked to your mother, she told me you put all that behind you.”
I could feel the heat rising up my neck into my cheeks. It was a sore subject in the Lee household. “And I have,” I said plainly. Never mind that my good behavior was largely due to the fact that no traumatic events had befallen my little inner circle.
My last adventures, which began with a well-intentioned speed-dating event at Ho-Lee Noodle House, quickly went south when one of the participants ended up meeting his untimely fate versus the love of his life.
The whole situation had proven to be more on the dangerous side of things than my previous run-ins. And I’d landed in the hospital, yet again, with a few minor injuries. I was grateful that the outcome left me with nothing more than a sprained ankle and some bruising, but it hadn’t sat well with my family, Megan, or Adam. Because the implication that it could have been much worse lingered among us.
With my friend, Rina Su, being caught up in the middle of everything it had been hard for me to sit by and let things play out on their own. And if asked to do it again, I would.
Not only had my illicit investigations caused tensions in my family, but they had created something of a rift in my relationship with Adam, also known from time to time as Detective Trudeau. Apparently, when dating a member of law enforcement, it’s best not to dip your toes, feet, or any part of yourself into their working life.
Anna May folded her arms over her chest. “I’ll believe it when I see it. I know you’re secretly chomping at the bit.”
“Um, no,” I said, giving her my best Valley girl voice. “You act as if I want these things to happen. It’s an ugly business, big sister.”
“If your boyfriend hadn’t gotten so upset about the whole thing, I doubt you’d ever have listened to reason. It’s a good thing he’s around or you’d be in serious trouble by now.”
My unofficial investigations were nothing new to Adam, but it had been a sore spot for us when I impeded on his case. He’d insinuated that my involvement expressed a lack of trust or faith in his ability to perform as a detective. And though we had made amends and he’d assured me that everything between us was sunshine and roses, I was still squirming with guilt for hurting his feelings.
My aunt bubbled with laughter. “There is not a free man on this earth who could tame a woman from our family lineage, mark my words, ladies. They can try as they might, but they will never be victorious.”
Maybe she’s right, I thought as we drove to the beach house. I certainly do have this stubborn streak in me; maybe it’s a problem, but I can’t let things go. I can’t stand for injustices, false accusations, or the lengthy legal processes involved in getting to the bottom of things. Who’s got that kinda time?
All of which—Adam, my family, my tendency to sleuth—were giant contributors to my need to
escape Cleveland for a few beats. I wanted time to think and cool off. When Adam and I had met, we’d happily taken things slowly. Both of us were burned from past relationships that seemed to follow us around like the chemical spray of the cheapest fragrance at a department store. Neither one of us wanted to rush anything. But as things continued to develop between us, the seriousness of our relationship was a tough subject to avoid. We were steadily moving toward next steps that couples make, like moving in together, for example. But if we were having these conflicts, did that foreshadow that, in the long run, this relationship might not work?
When I was younger, I always assumed I’d figure out who I was and what I wanted a lot sooner than it actually happened. It seems like my sister came into herself right out the gate of adulthood. In the meantime, I’ve stumbled, fallen, gotten back up, and then gone backward just to make sure I didn’t drop anything important.
Now, finally, at the end of my twenties I really felt like I was beginning to come into my own. To figure out the things I wanted from life, and the possibilities that might be waiting for me. I was getting closer to actualizing what that looked like, but I still wasn’t entirely there yet.
Would I be more like my mother, hunkering down with family and continuing in the restaurant business as a means to secure a livelihood for my own children? Or would I turn out like my aunt and abandon the traditional path?
I’d been so lost in my rabbit hole of thought that I hadn’t noticed we’d arrived at our destination. Thankfully, Aunt Grace and Anna May had been jibber-jabbering the entire way, leaving me to contemplate my life unnoticed.
After Charles opened the car door for us, he went around to the trunk and removed our bags. ...
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