Dating Makes Perfect - Pintip Dunn Page 0,84

not what you think,” Ari says.

Her words are quiet, barely audible, but they cleave the air like a knife. Silencing Mama. Killing her excitement.

Her hand tightens on Papa’s shoulders. “Mai khwam wa arai?” she asks in Thai, as though fear has chased away her English. What do you mean?

Ari’s eyes bounce all over the room, wild, desperate, as though there’s no safe place to land. And then they settle on her twin. Just like that, Ari’s limbs still, and her features become smooth.

Oh, to have that twin wizardry.

“What I have to tell you,” Ari begins, her voice the tensile strength of steel, “is that since I’ve gotten to college, I’ve realized that I’m bisexual. And the person I’m dating, the one I’m very serious about…is a woman.”

No one speaks. Even the rice cooker has stopped hissing, even the faucet doesn’t drip.

Papa clears his throat. “Well.”

Mama rolls her shoulders like a batter coming up to home plate, focusing her eyes, emptying her thoughts. She opens her mouth—and I clutch Bunny’s sleeve. I can’t help it. There’s no predicting where Mama will go. What she’ll say. How she’ll hurt.

“Is she very accomplished?” Mama asks.

I gape. I could be a meme for utter and total shock. Because that particular question? Didn’t make the top one hundred responses that I expected.

“Very,” Ari says, recovering first. “Her name’s Sabrina. She’s Black and a senior at Wash U. She’s just been accepted to Harvard Medical School.”

Ah, the magic word. No, scratch that. Two magic words. Using “Harvard” and “medicine” in the same sentence exponentially magnifies their power.

Tension leaks out of the air, and the whole room seems to take a breath.

“That’s just wonderful.” Papa holds up his teacup as though he’s toasting us. “She’ll be able to take care of you.”

“Um, excuse me?” Ari arches a delicate eyebrow. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” he says, as though she just stated that there was rebirth after death. “I raised all my girls to be independent. But this simply gives you an extra safety net—and me more peace of mind.”

“When can we visit?” Mama pulls a calendar out of the island drawer and consults the dates. “She’s Black, you say? We’ll take her to a Thai restaurant. It’s not home cooking, but at least we’ll be able to gauge how she tolerates our spices.”

“We’ll order nam phrik kapi,” Papa muses. “Notoriously stinky to falang. If she can eat that, she’s in.”

Bunny groans, pulling out a chair and dropping into it. “Seriously, Papa? Are you really going to evaluate all our suitors and suitresses with a taste test? That seems so wrong.”

“Sabrina’s cleared the other hurdles,” he argues. “This is only one more.”

I’m lost. It’s like my family zipped over to another planet—and forgot to invite me.

“Wait a minute.” I look from Mama to Papa. “You’re not disappointed?”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled that Ari’s found someone who appreciates every last facet of her, from her eyelashes to her socks, from her strength to her loyalty. I believe love is love, and it is always beautiful.

But Mama and Papa come from a different generation. That’s why we didn’t know how they would react. That’s why Ari was so nervous. Is it possible that she stressed for no reason at all?

Papa gestures for Ari and me to join them at the table, pouring tea into three more cups. I sit between my parents, and Ari joins Bunny at the other end.

“I think you’ve mistaken our rules for something they’re not,” Papa says. “They’re meant to protect you. To guide you onto the most direct path to happiness. But how you girls get there is up to you.”

“I worry, of course.” Mama hands out the cups and waits for us to take a sip of the flower tea, sweetened by brown sugar. Always delicious, even during this whirlwind conversation.

“It’s not easy to be in a same-sex relationship,” she continues. “People can be unkind. We face enough discrimination, being Thai in this country. Ideally, I wouldn’t want you to face any more. But Ari is who she is. And we will support her. Always.”

Papa’s eyes twinkle. “That is, so long as you give us, and especially your mothe—”

“Babies,” she blurts. “I don’t care which gender. Doesn’t matter which race. Just so long as you give me grandbabies, to cuddle and love, before I die.”

Ari beams. “Will do.”

I’ve never seen any of us react so positively to Mama’s grandbaby obsession, ever.

And now, I suppose, it’s my turn.

I rotate the