“How’re you feeling?”
“Okay,” I said. “Just sore.”
“What happened?” Laleh asked.
My ears burned. “I got hit in practice today. I’m okay, though.”
“Stephen said you won your first game,” Grandma said. “He sent pictures. It looked like a good one.”
“Yeah.”
While Laleh crunched on her taco—which was mostly cheeseand shell, with a little bit of lettuce and tomato and a sprinkling of beef—Oma asked, “When’s your next one?”
“Friday.”
“Well, keep on winning. If you do well this season, you might be in line for a scholarship.”
Oma said, “Especially if you get your GPA up.”
I crunched my taco so I wouldn’t have to respond.
The thing is, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to college. In fact, I was pretty sure it would be a bad fit for me.
I knew my grandmothers were only trying to help, but somehow that only made me feel worse.
I swallowed.
“Maybe.”
While Grandma put away the leftovers and Oma did the dishes, I made us a pot of tea.
“What’s that you’re making?” Oma asked over her shoulder.
“Ti Kwan Yin.”
Ti Kwan Yinmeans “Iron Goddess of Mercy.” It’s a Chinese oolong with pretty much the coolest name ever.
Normally I made it in a gaiwan, but with three of us it wasn’t practical.
Grandma and Oma settled on the couch, each at one end, and I took the chair. After a while, Oma reached for the TV remote and turned on a cooking competition.
For people who didn’t use seasoning, Grandma and Oma really liked cooking shows.
We sipped and sipped as the silence between us built, a cascading wave of missed opportunities.
I wanted my grandmothers to ask me to sit with them.
I wanted them to pause the show so we could talk.
I wanted them to be more like Mamou and Babou.
But I didn’t know how to say that out loud.
So instead I said, “I’m gonna see if Laleh wants any tea.”
My sister’s door was half-open, but I still knocked on the frame: one-three-three, which was our special knock. “You want some tea?”
“Yeah.”
