Page 56 of Four Aunties and a Wedding

I turn to see Ama right behind me.

Ama isn’t a large woman; she carries herself with a slight stoop and until now I haven’t really had much chance to interact with her. But now I see why she’s able to command a whole mafia gang. Why none of Staphanie’s uncles have overthrown her, even though the Chinese-Indonesian community is still so devoted to traditional gender roles. Because quite frankly, the woman is terrifying. I can easily imagine Ama killing another person in cold blood.

“No,” she says again, plucking the glass from Staphanie’s hand. “I forbid. No drink while working.”

“Ah, I insisting,” Big Aunt says, and takes a step forward so she’s face-to-face with Ama. She gives Ama the most pleasant, grandmotherly smile. “Please, do not refuse, otherwise we will be shame.” Bringing up shame. Cunning. No self-respecting Chinese-Indo will be able to resist that.

“Oh no, no, if we drink while working, we will be shame,” Ama says.

“No, if we not treat our guest well, we will be shame.”

“Oh dear,” Annie chirps. “We don’t want anyone to feel ashamed. I’ll drink this on Staphanie’s behalf, then.” To my horror, she takes the glass from Ama and raises it to her lips.

22

“No!” we cry, but no one is faster than Second Aunt, who snatches the glass out of Annie’s hand with the speed of a striking snake. No doubt a move she’ll attribute to Tai Chi later on. She looks at the glass for a second and I can almost read her train of thought. What to do with it? Can’t let Annie drink it because if Annie gets high and they find out we’ve spiked the drinks, we’ll lose face for sure. Maybe she’ll “accidentally” spill it—

But then a look crosses Second Aunt’s face. It’s a look that every Chinese mother has perfected. A look that says,For the millionth time, because I am so selfless, I shall sacrifice myself for the family.It’s followed by a very pointed look that says,Please remember this sacrifice I am about to make. Or not. I’ll be reminding you of it for the rest of your life.

“No, Second Aunt—”

Before I can take the glass from her, she gulps down the champagne.

My mouth drops open in horror. What the shit? Seriously, there are about half a dozen things she could’ve done that didn’t involve drinking spiked champagne, but of course she had to go for the most dramatic option.

“Ooh, are we doing shots? How come no one told me?” Fourth Aunt says, sashaying over with Lilian in tow. She reaches out to take a flute, but Ma pulls the tray away from her.

“No,” Ma says.

Fourth Aunt’s expression immediately becomes thunderous.

Oh god, no. Notthisrivalry. I can barely keep up with the amount of shit that’s just hit the fan. “Fourth Aunt—”

“I think,” Fourth Aunt says, grabbing two champagne flutes from the tray, “Lilian and I would like a drink.” She hands one flute to Lilian before downing her own glass.

Lilian raises her glass and Second Aunt, again, snatches it away from her before downing it. Oh. My. God.

Ama must have caught wind of something being off, because she quickly takes another glass and passes it to Annie. Second Aunt’s hand shoots out again, a viper snatching a baby chick, but before she can down a third glass, Big Aunt catches her wrist. Their eyes meet, and that same self-sacrificial expression plays across Big Aunt’s features. She gently takes the champagne flute from Second Aunt. I can almost hear Big Aunt’s thoughts.Thou shalt not be the only martyr.Second Aunt gives a small nod, and Big Aunt raises the glass, her face as dramatically resolute as Juliet about to take poison to join her dead lover. She drinks it.

Ama gives another glass to Lilian, and this time, Ma yelps, “Me! Mine! I drink!” She grabs the glass and downs it as well. Ama reaches for another glass, but my senses finally unfreeze and I slap the tray out of Ma’s hands.

The delicate flutes rain down on the ground, splashing champagne everywhere. The glass is so thin that they hardly tinkle as they break, but it’s enough to make heads turn. Nathan is suddenly behind me.

“What’s going on?” he says, his hand on the small of my back. “Meddy, you okay? Mum?”

I gape at him, unable to come up with anything that might pass for a believable excuse.

“I, uh—I tripped on my dress?” Why did that come out as a question? “I tripped on my dress,” I say again, firmly this time.

Annie looks aghast, the poor woman, and who can blame her? She places a hand on Nathan’s arm. “Nathan, love, would you mind very much accompanying me to the ladies’?”

“Hang on, Mum.” Nathan takes my hand and says in a softer voice, his eyes searching mine, “What’s going on, Meddy? Are you okay?”

God, could I feel even worse than before? Apparently I can. There is no limit to how terrible I can feel. Just when I think I’ve hit the very bottom of the barrel, it gives way and lets me tunnel down the pile of shit some more. And there’s nothing but more shit.

Moving the corners of my mouth feels like pushing through wet cement, but somehow, I manage to stretch my mouth into something resembling a smile. I bet, like everything, it looks like shit too. “I’m fine,” I hear myself saying. I don’t even recognize this person anymore, this person who continues lying to the man she supposedly loves, the man she’s just married. “I think I’ve just had a bit too much to drink. I might go sit down for a bit. You take your mom to the bathroom. I’ll be fine.”

“Nathan—” Annie says.

---