by JJ Chow
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Where is the restaurant?”
Winston told her the major cross streets but soon realized she wouldn’t be familiar with the San Jose area. He pulled out his phone to map out the route. Before he could punch in his passcode, Orchid pointed at the words on his screensaver. “What’s that mean? Seniors’ Sleuth?”
“My job title. I’m a detective.”
She frowned while he unlocked his phone and opened up the map application. Peeking over his shoulder, she said, “I think I can get there myself. Hand over the keys.”
“It’s really no problem.”
She kept her palm out, waiting. It would be like nailing jelly to convince her not to drive, so he deposited the keys into her hand.
“I can ride in the back, though, and help navigate.”
She motioned for Gaffey to come over. “Winston, you go sit with the nice officer. More room in his car anyway.”
Orchid left Winston without a backward glance. The rest of the Chan family followed her, and Fort slapped Winston on the back as he passed. “No problem. I mapped the place out. She won’t get lost.”
Winston turned his attention to Gaffey as he watched the Chans pile into their old van. He wasn’t worried about the matriarch anymore. Instead, he shuffled after Gaffey with plodding steps. Could the two of them survive a car ride together?
The cop stopped at the rear door of his patrol car, and Winston’s heart rate soared. Would the man be so mean as to lock him in the back during the drive?
Gaffey snickered and held his hands up. “Kidding,” he said. “Go in the passenger’s side.”
Winston complied and buckled up. Tight. No knowing what kind of driving maneuvers Gaffey would make.
He gave the restaurant’s address to Gaffey and stayed silent for the first few minutes of the ride, but the quiet soon grew on his nerves. Why wasn’t Gaffey turning on the radio? Fine, he’d find something neutral to talk about. “Sad about Mr. Chan,” Winston said.
Gaffey shrugged. “It’s normal. A heart attack for an old man is quite common.”
Winston thought about one of his regular senior clients, an ex-Marine who still tore up the gym. “Some people are still in the prime of their health, even at eighty.”
“Not Mr. Chan . . . or so Fort told me.”
Winston turned his attention to Gaffey, gazing at the cop’s profile. “He say something to you?”
“Not directly. He was trying to talk to the gal at the info desk. Wanted to tell her his dad’s been through some heart complications, even has a DNR. Tried to outline Ming’s wishes to her.”
Winston tapped his fingers against the dash, thinking.
Gaffey threw him an irritated look. “Stop that noise.”
“Sorry.” He stilled his fingers. “Do you remember what Fort said? Details about the DNR?”
Gaffey kept his eyes on the road, speeding through a yellow light with ease. “Something along the lines of his dad not wanting to be a vegetable, that the family could pull the plug if needed.”
“I wonder,” Winston said. “Was it natural for Mr. Chan to collapse like that?”
Gaffey snorted. “Detecting is messing with your head. Remember, I talked to the family, and they said the old man had suffered a heart attack before. Murphy’s Law.”
“You mean Occam’s razor. The simplest solution is usually correct,” Winston said as they neared the restaurant. “Murphy’s Law means the worst thing that can happen does.”
“Whatever, Mr. Spock,” Gaffey said as they pulled into a parking spot right in front of Sambal’s large plate-glass window. Had Gaffey just complimented Winston? He wasn’t quite sure.
From the parked car, Winston noticed his friends and family staring at them through the window. His eyes located his bride-to-be. Kristy, in her beautiful emerald dress, waved at them. Winston felt a goofy grin spreading across his face.
Beside him, Gaffey muttered, “Yeah, Murphy’s Law.”
“You don’t have to come in,” Winston said.
“But I’m wanted here.” Gaffey groomed himself using the rearview mirror. “She invited me.”
Winston counted to ten in his head to calm down.
CHAPTER 11
WINSTON LEFT GAFFEY to preen in the car. As he opened the door to the restaurant, he noticed the Chan van pull into the parking lot. He decided not to wait for them because the smell of curry wafted toward him, making his mouth salivate.
He went over to Kristy and his friends seated at a long rectangular table. Twelve similar tables filled the dining area, and against the far wall, Sambal offered a bar that served exotic Asian drinks.
The configuration of the long tables in the dining room made for awkward moving around Sambal. It required dodging other people when trying to get to the restrooms, but at least large groups could sit together.
Kristy motioned for Winston to sit next to her. She pointed at the whole coconut pierced with a straw placed on a nearby placemat. Looked like she’d thought about him and already ordered one of his favorite drinks.
He couldn’t wait for the refreshing taste of the coconut water. Maybe it would take away the bitterness left by Mrs. Chan’s brush-off, and also overcome the sourness left by a car ride with Gaffey.
Winston gave Kristy a quick hug before he sat next to her. She smelled like sweetness itself. A hint of gardenia floated off her skin and intoxicated him.
Snatching the drink in front of him, he began gulping down the coconut water. Then he followed through with the niceties, greeting his two future brothers-in-law. One of Kristy’s brothers was single, but the other was married and had a toddler.
The little boy clapped his hands at Winston, and he smiled at the tyke. Huh. Maybe he could be a dad someday . . . with the perfect woman by his side. He squeezed Kristy’s hand, and she rubbed her thumb over his palm in return.
Carmen and Alex greeted him, his best man toasting him with a glass of bubbly. Did they usually serve champagne at Malaysian restaurants? Or maybe the couple had slipped in some BYOB by paying an extra fee. Money sure made things easier.
His Sweet Breeze friends greeted him, too. Anastasia wiggled her jewel-laden fingers at him while Jazzman tipped his top hat. Pete offered a small head nod.
Only Marcy frowned at Winston, followed by a prolonged look at her Rolex. Since she happened to be sitting on the other side of Winston, and he didn’t want her to start in on him, he explained his tardiness. “It took some time to get things settled at the hospital.”
Marcy’s husband, Gary, who sat on her other side, placed an arm over her shoulder. “Give Winston a break,” he said, pecking Marcy on the cheek. Looked like their relationship was on the mend. Winston grinned, knowing that his own romance with Kristy had reignited his sister’s previously faltering marriage.
Kristy leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Everything okay with the Chans?”
Winston shook his head. “They almost didn’t come, but—”
At that moment, the door made a loud swishing sound. Gaffey kept it open with a gallant gesture of his hands and ushered the Chan family inside.
They streamed in like a sinuous snake and made their way over to Winston’s table. He frowned. Why had that particular image cropped up?
Orchid paused in front of Winston and Kristy. “Thank you for dinner,” she said.
Then on seeing Alex at the table, she glared at him.
He made a clucking noise with his tongue. “It’s a shame about your husband’s accident.”
“Those stairs in the Mystery Shack are dangerous. I could sue the two of you.”
Carmen lifted her glass of champagne up. “Not after signing our detailed contract. No liability, remember?”
Orchid huffed and turned her back on them. She fumed, and Winston was glad he wasn’t the source of her displeasure this time. Her anger filled the air, choking the previous joyous mood.
Kristy invited the family to sit down, leave their worries behind,
and enjoy the food. She placed a hand on Orchid’s back and guided her to a seat next to Pete. Hopefully, the vet would turn on his more charming side today. Or maybe they could commiserate about the trials of life together.
The rest of the Chan family then divided themselves around the long table, and Lyle ended up next to Jazzman. The two of them could talk about the arts. After all, didn’t Jazzman put up framed photos in his room? Winston could see Lyle already flipping through images on his camera and showing them to Jazzman, their heads bent over the device.
Once the Chans sat down, Winston breathed a sigh of relief. He realized that Gaffey’s chivalrous door opening would ensure that the cop get the last spot, a seat far from the center of the table where Winston sat.
Winston had drunk over half of his coconut water by the time the waitress appeared at their table. She wore a traditional dark-blue batik dress with many swirls adorning it. Her hair was pinned up, and a white plumeria perched behind her ear. Without needing to glance at the menu, he and Kristy put in the order for their celebratory dinner.
The waitress wrote everything down and then asked for people’s drink preferences. Most of the Chans stuck with water, but Orchid opted for teh tarik, the pulled milk tea. And Fort asked for a coffee.
“Caffeine doesn’t affect me,” he boasted. “I can drink five cups a day. Keeps my energy flowing.”
The waitress bustled away but came back within minutes, balancing a huge tray. She doled out the glasses of water and two steaming mugs.
“Do you have sugar?” Fort asked after he’d been served.
“On the table,” she said. Satisfied that everyone had their beverage of choice, she turned to Winston and said, “Now let me check on your food.”
After the waitress whisked away, Viv leaned across the table and dangled a spoonful of white grains in front of Fort’s nose. “Got your sugar for you, dai gor.”
Fort leaned back in his chair and practically put his feet up. “That’s right. I’m the big brother, and the youngest should always serve the eldest.”
She made her voice lilt. “Of course, Fort, my dear big brother.” Then she dumped the spoon’s contents into his coffee and stirred.
Fort licked his lips. Upon his first sip, he spat the drink onto the table and at the person across from him—Orchid.
His stepmom let out a few choice curse words in Cantonese before excusing herself to the ladies’ room.
Fort pointed to the offending drink and accused Viv. “You put salt in my coffee.”
“Oops, couldn’t tell the difference.”
Lyle stopped showing pictures to Jazzman for a minute and piped up. “But the salt’s in a bottle, and the sugar’s in packets.”
“Prankster.” Fort gnashed his teeth and glared at Viv, even as Orchid returned to the table. “You probably even ‘forgot’ to give Ba his pills, and that’s why he collapsed.”
“Stop spouting lies.” Viv took a napkin and mopped up the coffee mess on the table. “And look who’s talking . . . you’re the next in line to inherit.” She tossed the sodden napkin onto his lap.
Why would the Chan family even joke about Ming’s fall? Winston shuddered.
Fort looked shocked. He spluttered and let the cloth napkin slide to the floor. He also signaled for the waitress to return and asked for a new coffee.
Thank goodness Winston’s own family wasn’t so dysfunctional. It had been rough losing their parents, but through it all, he and his sister loved each other.
Turning to Marcy, he asked her about the latest herbology research. She gave a brain dump, and her use of scientific plant names, along with Gary’s rhythmic uh-huhs by her side, lulled Winston into a dazed state of boredom.
Only the smell of bread from the roti platter woke up his brain. Winston reached out to take one and split the fluffy, layered appetizer with his beautiful bride-to-be. Kristy flashed him a smile before resuming an intense game of peek-a-boo with her nephew.
Winston dipped his piece of roti into the fragrant curry and looked at Kristy playing with the little boy. She’d make an excellent mother. As he nibbled the bread and continued watching them, both his stomach and his heart felt an immense burst of joy.
Then a giant thump resounded. The table gave a small vibration.
Fort pounded his fist again on the wood and stood up in haste. “Get that away from me!”
Winston looked to where Fort pointed.
CHAPTER 12
WINSTON SAW FORT TREMBLING before the satay plate. The skewered meat looked delicious to Winston, the chunks of beef crisscrossed with grill lines mesmerizing. Its tantalizing scent made his mouth water. The chef had even prettied the dish with a sprinkle of peanuts over the kebabs. Garnishes of cucumber gave a splash of color, and a ramekin with creamy peanut sauce nestled next to the meat.
It was almost comical watching the broad-shouldered man quake with fear. “Peanuts.” Fort’s eyes widened. “I’m allergic.”
Viv picked up a stick. “Oh, you mean this?” She brandished the meat at Fort, her skinny arm waving it before his face.
“Not funny,” Tal said. “He’s deathly allergic.”
“Only if he eats it.” Her shoulders slumped. “Besides, it’s just a joke.” She dropped her arm and took a bite of the satay.
Tal muttered under his breath and called over the waitress. He ordered a unique drink, a bottle of baijiu, known as “Chinese firewater.”
Kristy leaned over the table toward Fort. “You do have an EpiPen, right?”
Fort frowned. “Left it at the motel.”
Kristy bit her lip. Her forehead crinkled, and Winston squeezed her shoulder to reassure her.
“We’ll move the dish,” he said. “It’s the only one we ordered that has peanuts.”
Winston put the juicy platter far from Fort, but Lyle spoke up. “Can I see it a sec?”
Lyle lifted his camera. “I want to do an Instagram post.”
“Pass it around,” Tal said, his usual dark manner brightening at the sight of the yummy appetizer. “We’re starving here. Don’t worry, we’ll get rid of the dish soon enough, so Fort can relax.”
The satay got passed around to everyone except Fort. People all seemed to snatch up a stick with quick hands. Before he knew it, Winston ended up with the empty dish in front of him. He asked the waitress to come back and pick up all the finished appetizer platters.
As she lifted the plate with roti crumbs on it, Winston remembered to take the curry dip. He also tried to grab the peanut sauce on the other plate, but it was missing. Someone else must love condiments like he did.
The waitress cleared everything, and then Marcy clinked her glass with a fork. She raised her drink and toasted. “To Winston and Kristy: May your marriage be loving and long-lasting.”
Cheers erupted around the table, and Winston grinned. Glasses clinked, and Winston turned his attention to Kristy. “Can you believe it? Tomorrow we’ll be husband and wife.”
She smiled up at him, and her utter focus made him feel faint with love. “I can’t wait.”
He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ears and stared into her eyes.
She stroked his cheek. Then she lifted her left hand, showing off the diamond on her ring finger. It sparkled in the soft lighting of the restaurant.
They chatted about their honeymoon plans. Marcy had gifted them with a trip to exotic Tahiti. They lost themselves in a luxurious conversation about bungalows hovering above glittering water. Soon, though, Winston could hear a rising burble of angry Cantonese from down the table.
Then a sharp cry of “sau seng” came from Orchid and shattered their dreamy talking. Why would the matriarch be saying “shut up?”
Winston noticed the members of the Chan family staring each other down. Their anger seemed divided by gender, with the women glaring at the men.
Winston glanced at Marcy, needing a translation. His knowledge of simple Cantonese words didn’t help him decipher lengthy conversations. “Family troubles
,” she mouthed. Was his rehearsal dinner going to turn into a brawl? Maybe he shouldn’t have invited the Chans despite Kristy’s suggestion.
Before he had a chance to intervene, Evan said, “Let’s take it down a notch. I’ll lead us in a few tranquil breathing exercises.” He spoke about emptying the mind and focusing on the present, on deep breaths. By the time the main dishes came out, everyone had calmed down enough to eat a civil dinner.
CHAPTER 13
THE MAIN ENTREES CAME out, and people oohed and aahed at the food. Winston had ordered a feast to celebrate: curry crab, mango chicken, garlic kangkong vegetables. He indulged in the curry’s spiciness tempered by rich coconut milk, along with a battle between sweet and savory spices of the other dishes.
In between eating, he turned his attention to Kristy’s brothers to make small talk. After all, he hoped to be a close-knit family starting tomorrow. One of them worked in the computer industry (hardware), so they talked about processing speed and microchips. The other one did banking but talked only of his “genius” toddler son—how the boy could stack blocks into a pyramid and knew basic words in three different languages.
Finally, the dessert came. Individual servings of bo bo cha cha were put out in front of each place setting. Winston looked at the coconut milk dessert brimming with delicious ingredients like sweet potatoes, taro, and tapioca jellies.
Everyone decided to dig in. Winston saw a flurry of hands grabbing bowls. Shiny spoons flashed in the air. He was also about to follow suit when Kristy placed her hand over his. Her grasp prevented him from grabbing a spoon. “The gifts,” she whispered.
Oh, right. They’d gotten presents for the bridesmaids and groomsmen. He was supposed to shower the bridal party with appreciation according to some wedding planning website Kristy had pored over.
Winston cleared his throat. “Thank you for coming tonight. Kristy and I are grateful to have close family and friends supporting us. As a token of our gratitude, we bought gifts for—”
