wrong with looking nice,” Mimi went on. “Josh’s friend knows how to dress. Very dainty. Did someone make your sweater, Cathy?”
“No, Mrs. Lewis.” A polite tone, a polite smile. “My mother bought it.” The sweater was pale pink, with a knit collar and three glitzy buttons. Her jeans had the same buttons on the fly and the pockets. “She buys all my clothes. My closet is stuffed.”
“Lucky girl.”
“I hate my clothes. I wanted Heather’s, but they got rid of everything.”
Looking over her shoulder, Sharon saw Cathy stiffen. The little girls were pinching each other.
Mommy! She hurt me! Mommy, she started it!
And then Judy, whose interest in makeup was new and unsure, having spent a good chunk of her childhood learning how to use her father’s tools, waved her hand in front of her face and drawled, “Who cut the cheese?”
Their grandpa was sniffing the air. “I farted,” he said, and added with wonder, “It was a silent one, but it stinks more than the noisy ones.” Everyone stopped talking. He looked surprised by that and pleased. “Someone else’s farts always smell worse than your own,” he said, since they were interested. “Why is that?”
“Zaidey!” Judy said.
“God makes all the farts. Why should anybody’s stink worse?”
“Some people’s don’t stink at all,” Cathy mumbled.
“My wife’s do,” Jake beamed. “I love you. And you. And you. And you.” He pointed to each of his grandchildren, to Cathy, to his children and their spouses, to the floor, to the glass doors, to the tofu that his wife had disdained. He moved his gaze and blessed his wife with an impish smile. “And you most of all. Even your loud farts. Why shouldn’t I? God brought you to me. All the way from China.” He smiled at Cathy. “You only had to come from around the corner.” For a moment Mimi suspected he hadn’t lost any marbles at all and in her gratitude left well enough alone.
After dishes were cleared, the kids decided to arm-wrestle.Emmie watched while Nina took on Judy, and Josh wrestled Cathy, whose blonde hair fell over her face, the part no longer ruler straight. Her back was bowed as she leaned into her arm, other hand pressed against the table, trying not to slip on the tablecloth. She put her all into it, for one contest was all contests, and Josh was equally in earnest, his hand clasping hers, bare feet flat on the floor. When he won she swore, and Sharon nearly laughed to hear the expletive burst from those perfectly glossed lips. Cathy called for a rematch, but Josh just laughed at her.
The sun had set and the sliding glass doors were a mirror now, reflecting her family, the one she had married into and made. At the sink, her mother-in-law was singing a popular song from her childhood:
wo yao hui jia, Shanghai is scary, I want to go home, Mama
. The kitten crept out of his hiding place between the fridge and the washing machine to slurp his supper. The kitchen smelled of soy sauce, vinegar, cinnamon and baking apples, lemony dish soap, and all of it, each separate smell, even the sulphuric odour that had emanated from Jake, was the smell of love. And if it wouldn’t have seemed absurd, Sharon might have cried, because, inside, there was such longing to have had a family like this.
INSIDE
“Forget it, Ally.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“I’m not scary.” She stamped her foot.
“Lils aren’t allowed out.” Alec had her by the arm, pulling her back.
“Oh come on,” Lyssa said. “Nobody has to know. Let her have some ice cream. She won’t talk.”
“I won’t,” Ally said. “Promise!”
Her teddy bear wanted ice cream. Two kinds. With chocolate sauce on it. And marshmallows. And sprinkles. And cherries. But no nuts. Oh, and caramel sauce. And cookie pieces. And M&M’s. And gummies. And Nerds.
Cathy was putting two huge scoops on her cone. Joshy said she couldn’t eat it all and she was saying you bet, just watch and she made her mouth big, taking
“No, Mrs. Lewis.” A polite tone, a polite smile. “My mother bought it.” The sweater was pale pink, with a knit collar and three glitzy buttons. Her jeans had the same buttons on the fly and the pockets. “She buys all my clothes. My closet is stuffed.”
“Lucky girl.”
“I hate my clothes. I wanted Heather’s, but they got rid of everything.”
Looking over her shoulder, Sharon saw Cathy stiffen. The little girls were pinching each other.
Mommy! She hurt me! Mommy, she started it!
And then Judy, whose interest in makeup was new and unsure, having spent a good chunk of her childhood learning how to use her father’s tools, waved her hand in front of her face and drawled, “Who cut the cheese?”
Their grandpa was sniffing the air. “I farted,” he said, and added with wonder, “It was a silent one, but it stinks more than the noisy ones.” Everyone stopped talking. He looked surprised by that and pleased. “Someone else’s farts always smell worse than your own,” he said, since they were interested. “Why is that?”
“Zaidey!” Judy said.
“God makes all the farts. Why should anybody’s stink worse?”
“Some people’s don’t stink at all,” Cathy mumbled.
“My wife’s do,” Jake beamed. “I love you. And you. And you. And you.” He pointed to each of his grandchildren, to Cathy, to his children and their spouses, to the floor, to the glass doors, to the tofu that his wife had disdained. He moved his gaze and blessed his wife with an impish smile. “And you most of all. Even your loud farts. Why shouldn’t I? God brought you to me. All the way from China.” He smiled at Cathy. “You only had to come from around the corner.” For a moment Mimi suspected he hadn’t lost any marbles at all and in her gratitude left well enough alone.
After dishes were cleared, the kids decided to arm-wrestle.Emmie watched while Nina took on Judy, and Josh wrestled Cathy, whose blonde hair fell over her face, the part no longer ruler straight. Her back was bowed as she leaned into her arm, other hand pressed against the table, trying not to slip on the tablecloth. She put her all into it, for one contest was all contests, and Josh was equally in earnest, his hand clasping hers, bare feet flat on the floor. When he won she swore, and Sharon nearly laughed to hear the expletive burst from those perfectly glossed lips. Cathy called for a rematch, but Josh just laughed at her.
The sun had set and the sliding glass doors were a mirror now, reflecting her family, the one she had married into and made. At the sink, her mother-in-law was singing a popular song from her childhood:
wo yao hui jia, Shanghai is scary, I want to go home, Mama
. The kitten crept out of his hiding place between the fridge and the washing machine to slurp his supper. The kitchen smelled of soy sauce, vinegar, cinnamon and baking apples, lemony dish soap, and all of it, each separate smell, even the sulphuric odour that had emanated from Jake, was the smell of love. And if it wouldn’t have seemed absurd, Sharon might have cried, because, inside, there was such longing to have had a family like this.
INSIDE
“Forget it, Ally.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“I’m not scary.” She stamped her foot.
“Lils aren’t allowed out.” Alec had her by the arm, pulling her back.
“Oh come on,” Lyssa said. “Nobody has to know. Let her have some ice cream. She won’t talk.”
“I won’t,” Ally said. “Promise!”
Her teddy bear wanted ice cream. Two kinds. With chocolate sauce on it. And marshmallows. And sprinkles. And cherries. But no nuts. Oh, and caramel sauce. And cookie pieces. And M&M’s. And gummies. And Nerds.
Cathy was putting two huge scoops on her cone. Joshy said she couldn’t eat it all and she was saying you bet, just watch and she made her mouth big, taking
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