Page 71 of From Beijing, With Love

“Probably hiding in the kitchen. He’s not a people person. How he manages to stand up in front of a whole auditorium and deliver a lecture, I’ll never know. Come, let’s find him.” Yang guided Daniel forward by the elbow. He waved at Poppy. “You too.”

They squeezed through the living room and into the kitchen. The only person there was a middle-aged man slouched over a pot of boiling water, his glasses fogged up by the steam.

“Ba, meet my friends,” Yang said in English. “Daniel and Poppy. They are both from the Netherlands.”

“Welcome, welcome,” Yang’s dad said in fluent but accented English, looking flustered as he straightened his crooked glasses. He gestured to the pot of dumplings. “Did you have enough to eat? Want more?”

“No thank you. I’m stuffed,” Daniel said, a smile stretched too wide across his face as he patted his belly. He wanted Yang’s dad to like him but had no idea how to go about it (as usual).

“Shushu, you need to give me the family recipe for these dumplings. They are better than my mom’s,” Poppy said.

“You are Chinese.” Yang’s dad’s face lit up. “I’ll write down the recipe and have Yangyang make it for you.” He looked between Poppy and Yang with glee.

“No.” Yang shook his head before any misunderstanding was voiced.

“Sorry, sorry.” Yang’s dad’s gaze shifted to Daniel and Poppy.

Daniel could see his brain work through a set of logic like a computer program: If Poppy wasn’t Yang’s girlfriend, then she must be Daniel’s.

“We’re just friends.” Daniel answered the unasked question with a polite smile. He pointed to the pot of boiling dumplings. “The jiaozi are delicious.”

“Your pronunciation is very good.” Yang’s dad gave Daniel a thumbs-up. Then he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and studied Daniel’s face, picking up on what he’d missed before. “You are Chinese too?”

“I’m half Chinese.” Daniel gave his standard answer. “My dad was Chinese.”

“Oh, then you are Chinese too. There’s no half, third, or quarter,” Yang’s dad said with a hand wave, like Daniel had been ridiculous. He let out a hearty chuckle. “We leave the math to the classroom.”

“Ba, are those done? Mingfu asked for seconds,” Yang said, directing his dad’s attention back to the cooking. He gave Daniel an apologetic smile. Daniel shrugged like it was no big deal, but something expanded in his chest. He had always been halves of one thing or another, so all he knew were the fractions of his identity (and how he wasn’t living up to them). Being told to leave the math he knew so well behind tasted a whole lot like validation, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

When everyone was full, most of the cousins started to file out. The uncles and aunties remained, and the booze started flowing.

“Let’s leave them to their party.” Poppy patted Daniel on the back. “We can walk to our hotel from here.”

Stuffed full of dumplings, Daniel was glad they’d booked a hotel close to Yang’s family home instead of Old Town. He had just enough left in his tank for a shower and a grown-up-sized glass of wine.

“Thanks for coming to dinner. Both of you,” Yang said as they stood outside the apartment building. He looked to Daniel, his brows knitted. “I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“Hey.” Daniel put a hand on Yang’s shoulder. “Honestly, it was great. Ten out of ten. Your family was awesome.”

“If by awesome you mean overzealous, bossy, and entirely too loud …”

“You’re describing every Chinese family.” Poppy smiled. “If I can make a suggestion: Take up drinking.”

“I think that’s everyone’s strategy. The Maotai is already out. I’m almost afraid to go back upstairs,” Yang said with a laugh. “Are you sure you can find the way to the hotel?”

Poppy tilted her head, and Yang lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry I asked. I have no doubt in your ability to find your way.”

“Hey, what about me?” Daniel asked.

Yang’s lips curled into a lopsided smile. “No, shagua. Not you.”

Poppy crossed her arms. “Just kiss goodbye already so we can get going.”

Yang’s eyes trailed up the front of the building, landing on his family’s window. “Probably shouldn’t.”

“Don’t you need to check your mail?” Poppy asked.

“What?” Yang asked, then realization dawned on his face. He turned to Daniel. “Do you want to help me check?”