A Fake Girlfriend for Chinese New Year

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A Fake Girlfriend for Chinese New Year Page 5

by Jackie Lau


  “His delicate male ego wasn’t bothered?”

  “Zach doesn’t have a delicate ego,” Jo said. “Afterward, he took my hand and we skated together for a while.” She couldn’t help the dopey smile that came to her face. “Then we kissed.”

  “I’m guessing by your expression that it lived up to your expectations?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh boy, had it ever.

  “I’m impressed,” Tiffany said. “I figured it couldn’t possibly be that good.”

  “I think something might actually come of this,” Jo said. “Perhaps this fake relationship was just what he needed to see me in a different light.”

  “Jo, I love you, but I don’t think it means anything. Zach’s kissed many women. It’s not like he’s restrained himself since Marianne left him. And he never ended up dating any of those women, did he?”

  The hot chocolate tasted bitter in Jo’s mouth.

  “Sure, he might be attracted to you,” Tiffany continued, “but I doubt anything will come of it. I’m sorry, but I don’t. You know he has no interest in another relationship—he’s told you that.”

  Jo wasn’t surprised by Tiffany’s words. Her friend was always the pessimist. Maybe Tiffany wasn’t the person Jo should have texted the instant she stepped out of Zach’s car.

  Or maybe she’d done it instinctively out of self-preservation, like a part of her had wanted someone to knock some sense into her.

  But was what Tiffany saying really sense?

  Tiffany wasn’t the one who’d been kissed by Zach Wong. Tiffany hadn’t skated through the snowy woods with him, hand in hand.

  It had felt like it was more than just physical.

  Jo wasn’t delusional, was she?

  Chapter 6

  It was Chinese New Year at last. The whole reason Zach had gotten a fake girlfriend.

  His siblings hadn’t arrived yet, and right now, Zach and Ah Yeh were in the kitchen of his parents’ house, preparing their evening feast. They would have a whole chicken and a whole fish, as they always did at Chinese New Year, plus noodles and fried rice and turnip cakes. For most holidays, his parents did the cooking, but Ah Yeh was always in charge for Chinese New Year.

  Ah Ma was also in the kitchen, sitting at the table, eating the sweet rice cake made of glutinous rice flour and brown sugar.

  “Aiyah,” Ah Yeh said. “You will eat it all before everyone is here.”

  “I know. I am so sneaky!” Ah Ma said.

  “I don’t think ‘sneaky’ is the right word.” Dad sat down beside his mother and helped himself to a piece of cake.

  Zach hoped Jo enjoyed herself. He was suddenly nervous about the whole thing. Would she be weirded out by the chicken feet and head?

  Would his grandmother really ask her sixty-nine questions?

  “This year is very exciting,” Ah Ma said. “All grandsons have a date! Last year, there were no girlfriends, and now, there are three. Maybe next year, all three of you will have wives.”

  Zach stared at her.

  “What?” Ah Ma said. “You are not thinking about marriage?”

  “Jo and I have been together for two weeks,” Zach said. “It’s a bit soon.”

  “But you have known each other for a long time. I think it’s not too soon.”

  “Please don’t scare her away,” Mom said, walking into the kitchen.

  “I am not scary!” Ah Ma said, affronted.

  Dad snorted.

  Zach put down his knife and turned to his grandfather. “Could you show me how to make ginger beef sometime? It’s Jo’s favorite.”

  “Ah, how sweet,” Ah Ma said. “He is cooking for her. Very romantic.”

  Ah Yeh was focused on something on the stove, but he nodded, and Zach told himself that he’d asked about the ginger beef only because it was part of his act.

  * * *

  Jo stood on the doorstep to Zach’s parents’ house and took a few deep breaths.

  This was it. The family dinner.

  She wanted to make a good impression on Zach’s family, especially since now, there was a real chance...

  Well, Tiffany didn’t think so, but Jo couldn’t completely give up hope.

  She hadn’t wanted to show up empty-handed, so she’d brought persimmons, having learned that it was a fruit some people ate for Chinese New Year. She’d bought them on her monthly trip into London.

  At last, she knocked on the door, and a moment later it swung open.

  “Hey.” Zach smiled at her.

  His hair flopped over his forehead, and she reached up to push it to the side before kissing him on the cheek.

  Just acting like his girlfriend, nothing more.

  But after that chaste kiss, she couldn’t help thinking about the not-so-chaste kiss by the skating rink, and her cheeks turned pink.

  He smiled at her again, as though knowing exactly what was going through her mind.

  A minute later, all of Zach’s family had crowded into the front hall, and he introduced them. “These are my grandparents. My parents, Rosemary and Stuart. My sister, Amber. Nick and his girlfriend Lily, Greg and his girlfriend Tasha.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you all,” Jo said. “I mean, to see you again. I’ve met most of you before. Small town, you know.”

  Did she sound nervous?

  She was pretty sure she sounded nervous.

  “I brought persimmons.” She held up the small box.

  “Ah, good, good!” Ah Ma said. “I like persimmons.”

  Stuart picked one up. “They’re not ripe yet.”

  “When they’re not ripe, they make your mouth feel fuzzy,” Greg said. “This is due to the tannins.”

  Oh. Jo had no idea when persimmons were ready to eat.

  “No big deal,” Zach said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “They’ll be good in a few days. Come in and try some of the nin gou. Chinese New Year cake.”

  He took her hand, and she couldn’t help smiling at the gesture. When they reached the dining room, he picked up a brown rectangle and held it in front of her lips.

  Zach was going to feed her. And his grandmother, mother, and sister were looking on.

  She took a small bite. It was chewy and not quite what she’d expected, but it wasn’t unpleasant. She took a couple more bites and decided it was pretty good, now that she was accustomed to it.

  “My husband made it,” Ah Ma said. “Am very lucky to have husband who is a good cook. Zach wants to learn to make his ginger beef. Apparently it is your favorite?”

  “Ah Ma!” Zach said. “That was supposed to be a surprise for Valentine’s Day.”

  “Ah, sorry. Me and my big mouth.”

  Jo took another bite of the cake from Zach’s fingers.

  “Ugh, get a room,” Amber said. “I can’t believe all of you are coupled up now.”

  “Perhaps a date for you will arrive any minute,” Zach said. “There’s still time.”

  Mom shook her head. “I promised Amber we wouldn’t set her up with anyone tonight, but maybe we’ll find someone for Easter.”

  “Oh, God, no.” Amber glared at her.

  Zach fed Jo the last of the cake before planting a quick kiss on her lips.

  “Woo-hoo!” Ah Ma said. “You are practicing for wedding ceremony?”

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Zach said. “Now, Jo, I forgot to warn you about an important New Year’s tradition in our family. Pictionary.”

  Jo couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Usually Amber and I are a team,” he continued, “and Greg and Nick are a team. But I think you and I should be a team tonight. Amber’s drawing abilities leave a little to be desired.”

  Amber stuck out her tongue. “I guess I’m the odd one out, since I’m the only one who’s not in a couple. I can be the judge.”

  “You’re just glad you don’t have to draw anything,” Nick said.

  “We will kick everyone’s ass.” Ah Ma lifted her foot and kicked the air. She wobbled, and Stuart caught h
er.

  “Unlikely,” Ah Yeh said. “You are terrible at Pictionary.”

  “I am the best artist! It’s not my fault you are so bad at understanding my drawings.”

  “Your elephant looked like a bear. How could anyone guess that?”

  They kept arguing about their Pictionary skills, and Jo was glad that everyone seemed comfortable enough to act like themselves around her. She could totally handle Pictionary. She hadn’t played in years, but it sounded like fun.

  Zach dragged her into the hallway and rested his hands on her hips.

  “How’s it going?” he whispered. “You okay? Is it overwhelming?”

  “No,” she said, allowing herself to wrap her arms around his neck. “It’s great.”

  I only wish it were real.

  * * *

  Dinner was delicious. Jo particularly liked the chicken, plus the turnip cake, which was actually made with a type of radish.

  Ah Yeh allowed her to try one of the fish cheeks, which were his favorite; supposedly it was a delicacy. Jo didn’t quite understand the appeal, but she didn’t dislike it.

  After dinner, Zach and Nick cleared the table and brought out more of the Chinese New Year’s cake, plus Nanaimo bars, butter tarts, oatmeal cookies, and White Rabbit candies. Zach handed one of them to Jo.

  “The rice paper wrapper is edible,” he said.

  The candy looked a bit like a white Tootsie roll. She popped it in her mouth and quite enjoyed it.

  Ah Ma handed out red envelopes to her grandchildren, as well as Lily, Tasha, and Jo. She clucked her tongue as she did so.

  “I hope next year there will be no red envelopes. You are all getting too old for this.”

  “We told you,” Nick said. “You don’t have to give us money.”

  “Yeah, you live in a penthouse in downtown Toronto. Why do you need ten dollars?” Stuart said, but he handed an envelope to Nick all the same.

  “Younger generation gets red envelopes until they are married.” Ah Ma looked at her grandchildren. “I hope next year, everyone is married, and there will be no red envelopes. Except maybe for a baby?”

  “You know,” Amber said, “we might not all get married.”

  “Fine. I will stop when you turn thirty-five. Greg, this is your last year.”

  Greg nodded his head with a grunt.

  Jo regarded her envelope, red with gold lettering—not that she could read what the Chinese characters said—and a gold rat, since it was the year of the rat.

  “Thank you,” she said to Zach’s grandmother.

  “You will come back next year?”

  “I hope so.”

  “You might change your mind after Pictionary,” Amber said.

  Pictionary turned out to be quite an operation. They retired to the living room with cups of tea and sat on the couches. Nick got an easel with a whiteboard and set it up in front of the television. Greg placed a small sand timer on the coffee table. Amber made a scoresheet and set it next to the timer.

  “So,” Zach said, “this is how we play the Wong version of Pictionary, since Jo and Lily are new to this and Tasha hasn’t done it in a while. We’ll be in five teams of two tonight. Amber will use a Pictionary word generator and show the word to a member of the first team. They will start drawing, and the other member will have one minute to guess the word. If they do, they get a point, then it moves to the next team. We’ll play eight rounds, and then the top two teams make it to the playoffs.”

  “We’re the team to beat,” Stuart said, putting his arm around his wife.

  “It’s true,” Zach said to Jo. “My grandparents are terrible at this game, but my parents are freakishly good. I’m sure we can do just as well, though.”

  They picked Scrabble letters to decide which team would go first. She and Zach got an “A.”

  “Do you want to draw, or should I?” he asked.

  They were sitting on one side of the couch, his leg against hers; Tasha and Greg were sitting at the other end.

  “Um, I’ll draw.” Jo stepped up to Amber, who, as the official judge, was sitting on the chair by the whiteboard. Amber pulled up a word generator on her phone and clicked “generate.”

  Jo’s word was “hipster.”

  She’d expected something a bit easier, but she could do this. She started drawing a man.

  “Man,” Zach said.

  She added a collared shirt with a checkered pattern.

  “Lumberjack.”

  She added a toque.

  “Canadian,” he guessed.

  Finally, she added glasses and a beard.

  “Douche canoe?”

  She couldn’t help smiling, but dammit, he still wasn’t getting this? She’d have to add something to show the hipster’s interests.

  She drew a bottle of beer.

  “Drunk,” Zach said.

  Unfortunately, it was hard to emphasize that it was craft beer, since presumably writing anything on the bottle would be against the rules.

  Next, Jo drew a vinyl record and musical notes, then turned to Zach.

  “Um. Musician?”

  As his gaze caught hers and she gestured for him to keep guessing, it felt like there was a connection zinging between them.

  “Time—”

  “Hipster!” Zach said, as the last of the sand in the timer fell.

  “Hmph,” Ah Ma said. “Not fair, he guessed when the time was up.”

  “No, it was almost up,” Zach said. “I got it at the last second.”

  “I’m the judge, and I say it’s fair.” Amber drew a single line on the scoresheet. “Point for Team Hipster.”

  Jo returned to the couch, and Zach settled his arm around her. “Our team names are based on the first thing we draw,” he said. “Good job.”

  He kissed her cheek, and she smiled.

  She was determined to get as many points—and kisses—as possible tonight.

  Game on.

  Stuart and Rosemary were next. Rosemary looked at Amber’s phone, then drew the symbol for “male” and a bunch of stick figures below it. All had top hats and angry faces.

  Below this, there was a person—a woman?—with long hair and a frown on her face.

  Jo had no idea what this word could be.

  “Patriarchy,” Stuart said.

  Rosemary pointed at him and smiled.

  How the hell had he gotten patriarchy from that?

  Next it was Greg and Tasha’s turn. Greg drew first. Whereas everyone else had drawn quick, simple pictures, Greg’s was more detailed. It looked like a root vegetable, but which one?

  “Carrot,” Tasha guessed. “Parsnip. Celeriac. Turnip. Rutabaga. Radish...I’m running out of guesses.”

  “Time’s up,” Amber said.

  Greg turned away from the whiteboard. “It’s obviously wasabi.”

  “How should I know what that looks like?” Tasha asked. “Why didn’t you draw sushi?”

  “Then you would have guessed ‘sushi.’”

  “You could have drawn a little dish with wasabi paste and pickled ginger next to it.”

  They kept arguing, but when Greg returned to the sofa, Tasha laughed and planted a kiss on his lips, and Jo couldn’t help feeling a burst of longing.

  Ah Ma and Ah Yeh were up. Ah Ma went to the front and started drawing. Jo tilted her head this way and that, but she had no idea what it was. Next to her, Zach chuckled softly, and it rumbled through her body.

  “Garbage can,” Ah Yeh said. “Vase. Mug. Teapot. Teacup. Soccer ball.”

  Ah Ma scrunched up her face in frustration and kept drawing.

  “Time’s up,” Amber said.

  “Aiyah, why couldn’t you get it?” Ah Ma said. “It was clearly a hot air balloon.”

  Jo tilted her head again and squinted...and okay, maybe it looked like a hot air balloon, if she really used her imagination.

  After the first round, three teams had a point, and two teams did not.

  It was Jo and Zach’s turn again. When Zach
got up from the couch, Jo missed his body heat. He looked at the word on Amber’s phone and nodded seriously.

  First he drew a rainbow, then an arrow pointing to one of the bands of color.

  Ah, he was trying to tell her a color. Clever.

  It was the fifth color in the rainbow.

  “Blue!” she said.

  A ball of joy formed in her chest, though they were just playing Pictionary with his family. But she didn’t push the feeling aside. She’d enjoy this night of pretending they were a couple. Of pretending she had what she wanted.

  Next, Zach started drawing an odd pattern of swirls. She shook her head, having no idea what that was. Beside it, he drew a finger.

  “Blue finger?” she guessed. What on earth could it be? “Blue...fingerprint? Blueprint!”

  She laughed when Zach held his hands up in victory.

  He sat back down and wrapped his arm around her. She felt gooey, like the filling of a butter tart, and content.

  “Mom and Dad, it’s your turn,” Amber said.

  Stuart stepped up to the whiteboard and glanced at his word. When Amber flipped over the timer, he drew an odd shape with a circle in the middle...was that an avocado? Next to it, there was a plus sign, followed by a slice of bread.

  “Avocado toast,” Rosemary said. “Millennial.”

  Stuart gave her a thumbs-up.

  “I do not understand this one at all,” Ah Ma said.

  “Two points for both Team Patriarchy and Team Hipster,” Amber said.

  “Unfair that we have to be Team Patriarchy,” Rosemary muttered.

  “Well, we can hardly call you Team Millennial. That would be misleading, since you’re many decades too old for that.”

  Rosemary sniffed. “We’re not that old.”

  “You could be Team Avocado Toast,” Jo suggested.

  “I like that,” Stuart said.

  Jo felt stupidly pleased for getting Zach’s father’s approval.

  But she still wanted to beat him at Pictionary. For some reason, she felt like winning this game, against a happy couple who had been married for almost forty years, would mean something.

  Would mean that she and Zach belonged together.

  It was foolish, but this was more than just a game to her.

  * * *

 

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