“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Don’t you have a game this afternoon?” Like in an hour.
“Yeah, I do.” Then he rubbed a hand over his face. “I mean, I did. But I told them I couldn’t make today’s game.”
I gaped at him. Sure players dropped in and out of the roster all the time, but without an obvious injury, speculation would run rampant. Plus rookies in the majors never took a day off just because. Never.
“What—” I asked, but my mother cut me off.
“Heidi Wong, do you know this man?”
I blinked. “Um, yeah. Mama, this is the boy I told you about. The baseball player? Robert Lee, this is my mother.”
“Ah no!” she cried. “You said the boy was Chinese.”
“No, I didn’t.” Then I thought about it. Oh hell. “Mom, there are plenty of Lees out there who aren’t Chinese.”
Her eyes widened. “But you didn’t say! And the Chinese are very good at baseball!”
Well, yes they are, but…
“Never mind! Never mind!” She stepped back from the doorway and waved Rob in. “Come in, come in.” Then she glared at me. “Heidi, go get dressed.” Then she turned back to Rob. “Are you hungry? Would you like some tea? I have just made some soup.”
Meanwhile, I heard my father put away the newspaper and come to the front door, his slippers making little shuffling noises on the wood floor. “Hello. I am Heidi’s father.”
Oh hell. The suitor grilling was about to begin, but it was pointless to stand around in my pajamas. Mama wouldn’t let me say anything unless I was properly dressed. I rushed to my bedroom and pulled on the first thing I could grab. But when I was about to jerk on my T-shirt, I remembered that my mother was not above sending me back upstairs to put on something more respectable. Arguing with her would be a waste of time, so I tossed aside the tee and pulled out an embroidered blouse from China. It was dowdy and screamed fresh-off-the-boat, but it was clean, and my mother would approve. Five more seconds to brush my hair and throw on some lip gloss, then I was tripping downstairs as fast as I could move.
I clattered to a stop at the base of the stairs just in time to see my mother taking Rob through our own Wall of Accomplishments. I’m sure she’d begun with my violin trophies and my brothers’ medical careers, but she was well on the way up the ancestral tree. Right then she was pointing to my father’s Community Pharmacy Residency Excellence award which was a big deal in his field. Next would be my uncle’s picture at a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a high-rise in Hong Kong. After that would be my grandfather the professor at Hong Kong University and so on back through our roots in China. We didn’t have pictures of anyone before my grandfather, but we had carved ink blocks and jade stones. As for the women of my family, all we had on the wall was a pair of four-inch embroidered shoes my great-grandmother had worn back when women still had their feet bound.
I interrupted Mom just before she launched into my grandfather’s educational awards. “As a kid, I swore I’d get my picture on the wall doing something besides giving birth to the next generation.”
“Aiya.” My mother sighed as she turned to inspect my attire. “My daughter does not think being a wife and mother is important.” Then she lifted her chin. “And you will get your picture on the wall when you pass the bar.”
Or not. But before I could say anything, Rob turned to me.
“Tommy told me you’re looking at UCLA. It’s a great school.” He didn’t sound like his heart was in his words, but then it was hard to tell as my mother cried out in shock.
“UCLA!Aiya,Huifen,” she cried using my Chinese name. “You said you weren’t going.”
Oh shit.Shitshitshit.“I’m not. At least not for law school.”
I saw Rob’s eyes widen as he realized he’d just exposed my shame, but more than that, I saw my father’s brows draw together in a glower that was guaranteed to set my knees shaking.
“Um,” Rob began. “I didn’t realize…”
I shook my head. “Not your fault,” I said in a low voice, then I turned and faced my parents. I had to do this now and clearly. And if Rob hadn’t been standing there as a living example of following his passion, then I’m not sure I could have done it. Not this firmly.
“I’m not going to law school, because I don’t want to be a lawyer,” I said. “I’m going to be an investigative journalist.”
My father’s frown deepened. “The world has gone digital, Huifen. There is no future in print anymore.”
“But the world needs journalists, Baba. More than ever.” I desperately wanted to take Rob’s hand. I needed his strength. But I didn’t think I had the right, not after I’d stormed out of his apartment.
Meanwhile my father dismissed my dreams with a single shake of his head. “That is not a smart move.”
Meanwhile, my mother made a shushing gesture. “This is not a discussion to be had now. Not when we have a guest.” She suddenly brightened. “Huifen is going to UCLA. We must celebrate.”
“No celebration, Mama. Maybe when I get accepted into their journalism program.”
“Aiya,” she moaned. “You and all the different schools. When will you stop and just decide what you want? UCLA is an excellent place to study.”
