If We Were Perfect - Ana Huang Page 0,24
open 365 days a year, it was a Sunday dim sum staple for local Chinese residents and the place where they went to celebrate all special occasions—Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays, graduations, promotions.
Sammy’s family had frequented Wah Sing for years, and they had a standing weekly reservation for the two largest tables on the second floor, right in front of the wood carving of a flying dragon and phoenix that took up half the wall.
When he arrived at the restaurant a little past noon on Sunday, less than twenty-four hours after the cringe-worthy incident between his mom and Olivia, Sammy found a majority of his relatives already seated and gossiping loudly over cups of pu-erh tea.
The weekly gatherings were less about familial bonding and more about swapping intel on members of San Francisco’s Chinese community, showing off one’s newest handbag, and bragging about a child’s latest accomplishment.
“Sammy!” His mother spotted him first and waved him over. Gone were the polo shirt and tennis visor; in their place was the silk blouse he’d bought her for Mother’s Day and her best gold jewelry. She sat at a table with his father, brother, grandparents, and various aunts, uncles, and cousins. Thankfully, Edison wasn’t one of them—Sammy’s least favorite cousin held court at the other table.
Edison smirked and raised his cup when he saw Sammy.
Sammy ignored him and slid into the seat next to his mother.
“Sammy, it’s good to see you.” His grandmother reached across the table and patted his hand with a smile. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
His face softened. “It’s good to see you too, po po,” he said, slipping easily into Mandarin as he used the Chinese address for maternal grandmothers.
His grandparents on his father’s side, who lived in Houston, were wealthier but more standoffish than his mother’s side of the family. He called them on holidays, and they sent him red packets of money for his birthday, Lunar New Year, and Christmas, but other than that, he had limited interactions with them. They’d never quite gotten over the fact that his father had turned his back on the bride they’d chosen for him and married Sammy’s mother instead.
His gung gung (maternal grandfather) and po po, though, he loved with all his heart. They’d babysat him and his siblings while his parents had been busy working and attending night school for English lessons. His grandfather had taught the Yu children how to write Han characters, while his grandmother snuck them sweets and introduced them to the world of Chinese television dramas—much to his parents’ consternation.
“Ah, it all makes sense now.” His brother Kevin smirked and sipped his tea.
Older than Sammy by two years, Kevin worked as a civil engineer and had married his college sweetheart last spring.
His marriage was the reason their mother had redoubled her efforts to set Sammy up. Now that Kevin’s wedding was in the rearview mirror, she’d set her sights on her second child’s love life.
“Are you going to clarify or are you going to be cryptic?” Sammy picked up a shrimp-stuffed eggplant with his chopsticks and deposited it on his plate.
Kevin grinned. “You’ll see. This is going to be good.”
“Shush,” Amy scolded, treating Kevin like he was thirteen instead of thirty-two. “Don’t scare your brother.”
While Auntie Felicia distracted Amy with a juicy tidbit about one of their friends’ husbands running off with his massage therapist, Kevin leaned across their fifteen-year-old cousin Gina—who was too engrossed in her phone to notice—and whispered, “Hope you sharpened up on your flirting skills before you got here.”
“I know I’m being set up,” Sammy said. “Mom came by with food yesterday.”
“Yeah, but do you know who she’s setting you up with?”
“No.” Sammy lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I never do.”
Kevin’s grin widened. “This is going to be good,” he repeated.
“How the hell do you know who it is and I don’t?”
“I overheard Mom on the phone when I swung by to fix their water heater,” Kevin said matter-of-factly. “She should be here soon. Can’t wait.” He rubbed his hands.
Sammy snorted. “You’re a grown-ass man. Act like it.”
“Excuse me,” Gina huffed, looking up from her phone. “I’m trying to watch a TikTok video, and you are distracting me.”
She over-enunciated her words until each syllable hit like a bullet to the chest.
Kevin ruffled her hair and earned himself a threatening teenage scowl. “That’s what earbuds are for, kid.”
“I am not a kid, and my mom won’t let me use earbuds at the table. She said it’s rude, and she’ll take away my allowance