Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,80

calmer, probably because she was no longer lying in a pool of sweat. “This month is all about rest, right? I can’t rest when I’m hot and dirty. And arguing like this is raising my blood pressure through the roof. So with that in mind, let’s negotiate some new rules, okay?”

With a sigh of relief, Xing tiptoed out of the room. I followed.

“That’s my wife, smartest person around.”

Or . . . master manipulator? Maybe I could learn a few tricks.

Back in the nursery, with Jonathan swaddled in his crib, the tension ebbed, leaving just the poopy scent in the air.

“You did it,” I said. “You’re happy. Congratulations on everything.”

“You’re almost there. Business classes—”

“Actually, I just declared my major yesterday as business.” I had grand jetéd through my marketing and optimization classes this past spring, and I had especially loved that the latter involved math. Now, not only did I have a bunch of career options in front of me, but the degree could help if I decided to open a dance studio in the future.

Xing nodded his approval, then amended his previous statement. “Business major, teaching dance, loving boyfriend . . .” He peered at me. “Are you ready for your dinner with Mom and Darren?”

I nodded. “Ready to release the beast. I can take whatever comes.”

Xing laughed. “I wasn’t worried about you. Or Mom. I was worried about Darren.”

“Worry about Esther. Isn’t Mom coming over to meet Jonathan next week?”

Xing nodded, his face twisting with anxiety (and probably mirroring mine). “Touché.”

I had held off on talking to my mom about Darren for months. She had changed, but this was asking a dog to stop eating shit.

As I stood in front of Bertucci’s with my heart in my larynx choking me, I regretted making the first move. Well, actually, I hadn’t. My mother had, last week, by asking me how the “flip-flop wearer” was doing. A fight had ensued. . . . Stop being racist, Mamá. Don’t forget they slaughtered your family, Mei. . . . But eventually, after I had reminded her of her issues with my father, we made headway. She didn’t apologize, but she promised to try harder, then asked to meet Darren. I had been so relieved at her sincere smile and repentant eyes that I had agreed, only realizing after that it would be a crap-storm.

I wrung my hands. Darren gently pulled them apart. “Mei, stop worrying so much.”

“Did you forget everything I told you?” I had tried to prepare him as best as I could, but how do you describe the tiny, formidable hurricane that is Mǎmá Lu?

“You know I’ve met her already, right?”

It took me a moment to remember. That day seemed like a parallel life.

“Well, that was different. You were a stranger then.” And still she had been a stubborn ox. (Sometimes I wished she didn’t take her zodiac sign so literally.) “Now you’re Darren.” I gulped. “Oh God, this was a mistake. You’re going to break up with me after this.”

“Calm down. That won’t happen.” He took both my hands in his and turned me to face him. “I love you, Mei.” My entire body froze. “I started falling for you when I first heard you talk about Horny, and then when we moved on to beavers and nuts and magicians . . .” He placed a hand over his heart.

“I love you too,” I said, no hesitation. “Ever since you told me you wanted to try stinky tofu because it smells so bad.”

He wrapped his hand around the small of my back and pulled me to his lips.

Enjoy this moment. Stop worrying if Mamá is pulling up this instant. Don’t let her ruin this for you.

And then it was just us.

I sank into him. Melted into his kiss. Snaked my hands around his neck and pulled him closer. I breathed in the sandalwood, then ran my hands through his already-disheveled hair.

When we reluctantly pulled apart, I no longer cared how the rest of today went.

Just in time, too. Moments later, the sea-green minivan (with a brand-new bumper dent) pulled across two parking spaces.

We sat in a corner booth, Darren and me on one side, my mother on the other. I could tell she was trying. She had a plastic smile pasted on, and even though it was all teeth, no lips, and creepy as hell, it was better than the vengeful scowl that usually surfaced in Japanese company.

“We should be meeting for Chinese food,” she said. “But you probably were