If We Were Perfect - Ana Huang Page 0,25

if she sees me doing it, so I would appreciate it if you lowered your voices.”

“Someone’s big mad,” Kevin teased.

Gina shot him a flat look. “Don’t use teenage slang. You’re old, and it’s so cringe.” She returned her attention to her phone.

Sammy couldn’t hide a grin at his brother’s offended expression. “You were worse as a teenager,” he reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kevin turned to his wife Lydia, who’d watched the entire interaction with amusement. “We’re never having kids.”

She patted him on the hand, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Let’s revisit this later when the hurt’s worn off.”

Ten minutes later, Sammy understood why Kevin was so gleeful and why his mother had brought him so much food yesterday.

He watched, stunned, as a familiar brunette walked to their table and greeted everyone with a pleasant smile.

He whipped his head toward his father, who sipped his tea and avoided his son’s gaze. “Dad. You let her do this?”

“Don’t look at me.” Richard Yu set his cup down and raised his hands. “I don’t involve myself in your mother’s shenanigans.”

“They’re not ‘shenanigans’,” Amy interrupted. “I’m trying to secure our son’s future. Don’t you want him to be happy? Don’t you want grandchildren?”

“Kevin will give you grandchildren,” Sammy said, ignoring his brother’s squawk of protest. Too bad. That was what older brothers were for—serving as the first line of defense against meddling mothers. “You don’t need me.”

Horror washed over Amy’s face. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want grandchildren from all my babies. I gave your brother leeway on getting married because he and Lydia dated for years before he proposed—finally—but you don’t even have a prospect. No girlfriend, no dates—”

“I go on dates! I just don’t tell you about every one.”

“—other than the ones I set up for you. Now, don’t be rude and say hi to Lucy.” Amy’s smile widened. “Lucy! Come here. You look so beautiful—doesn’t she look beautiful, Sammy?—and that top is so pretty. Blue is Sammy’s favorite color, you know. What a coincidence. Here, sit in my seat so you youngsters can talk. No, no, it’s no trouble at all. I’m sure you don’t want to listen to old people gossip.”

Before Sammy could protest, his mother had vacated her seat, plunked a fresh plate and teacup on the table, and moved to the other side of his father, who shook his head and poured himself another drink.

I’m going to kill her.

Matricide was frowned upon, but surely people would understand.

Sammy’s ex-girlfriend slipped into the seat next to his and flashed an apologetic smile. Funny how all his exes were showing up in his life lately. “Sorry if this is awkward,” Lucy said, getting straight to the point. “Your mom ran into mine the other day at the supermarket and invited us to dim sum. My mom got sick yesterday, but I didn’t want to be rude and bail at the last minute, so here I am.” She looked self-conscious. “I had no idea it was a...”

“Setup?” Sammy finished.

He’d dated Lucy in high school. They’d lost their virginities to each other, and he’d fancied himself in love, though it would be another four years before he truly fell in love and realized what he’d felt for Lucy had not been the big L. Real love consumed you and demanded sacrifices you’d never thought you’d give. What he and Lucy had had was lust coupled with companionability and friendship. It’d had all the ingredients of love, but it’d been missing that spark that bound one heart to another.

Still, Sammy had been devastated when Lucy’s family moved to Colorado in the middle of their junior year. They’d agreed they should break up—long-distance was hard enough for adults; it was all but impossible for hormone-riddled teenagers. After she left, Sammy had holed up in his room for a week with the bottle of rum he’d found stashed under Kevin’s bed. His brother must’ve left it behind during his last visit home from college. Drunk and depressed for the first time in his life, Sammy had penned a letter so sappy, so cringe-inducing that he still squirmed with mortification whenever he thought about it.

Lucy had never replied to his letter, and he’d never settled on whether that was another punch in the gut or a small mercy. He hadn’t heard from or about her since her move, except for the occasional update from his mom, who’d been good friends with Lucy’s mom and had already cast Lucy in the role of her daughter-in-law. She’d been sadder about the