by Elliot Joyce
“My grandmother thinks it’s funny that you gave up on piano, because I did too when I was signed up,” Oliver admitted.
“I didn’t know you played.”
“He doesn’t,” Yun cut in. “Eric—his father—tried to make him play for a year, but he refused to practice and cried when he went to classes. So they stopped.”
“You cried? How old were you?” Lucas asked.
“Like…. Five?” Oliver looked at Yun, who shrugged.
“Five or six. That’s when my kids started too. Have you met Mikey? That is Oliver’s cousin. His wife makes the best tangyuan,” Yun said.
“Mei worked on her recipe this year; she might win,” Zhao argued.
“Tangyuan are the little balls that we make and eat during the festival,” Oliver explained to Lucas, as if Lucas hadn’t been reading everything he could about the festival in the weeks leading up to the trip. “We fill them with different things, and at the end, there is a competition to see who has made the best ones.”
“How do you decide who made the best one?” Lucas asked.
“You just know.” Oliver shrugged. “Hey, Yun, how long do you think until we eat? I’m starving.”
“How should I know? You can go in and check yourself, but if you miss your turn, we’re skipping you.”
“I can go check,” Lucas offered. Oliver hesitated, and Lucas kissed him on the cheek again. “Seriously, it’s not a problem. Have fun playing mahjong.” Lucas waited until Oliver got off his lap before standing, waving goodbye to Oliver’s family, and heading back inside.
IT WAS another hour until dinner, and in that time, Lucas managed to be the subject of several conversations but was part of very few. At best he’d sit down with a younger relative who could translate between him and an older family member, but for the most part Lucas just caught people talking and glancing at him. There was music playing from the television. He didn’t recognize the band, but admittedly his experience with music tended to be more Millennial Los Angeles Punk Scene than traditional Chinese. He also wasn’t brave enough to head back to the mahjong table, instead choosing to sulk inside and pretend it didn’t bother him that he didn’t speak Mandarin.
Oliver hadn’t relaxed the entire time Lucas was there, and it was irresponsible of Lucas to assume he could do any good by being there.
Dinner was buffet-style, the oldest members of the family going first before the younger kids ruined all semblance of order by charging ahead. Some of the family shook their heads, but no one argued. It did mean Oliver and Lucas were among the last to get food, but there was more than enough. Dishes and dishes of chicken, pork, and duck all marinated in rich sauces, vegetables cooked in oils and spices, noodles in broth, and rice—so much rice. Lucas wanted to try a little bit of everything, but Oliver casually pointed out which dishes were spicy or which were made by a family member with questionable cooking ability, so Lucas could avoid them.
“Where’s the tangyuan?” Lucas asked.
“That’s later. We all make it together for dessert,” Oliver explained. Lucas decided he was only a little disappointed.
There weren’t enough seats for everyone at the usual table, so many people were eating outside and others had taken to the living room. Lucas and Oliver managed to snag a seat on the L-shaped couch in the living room, next to Sammy and her husband, Paul. Alice and Jeffrey were also there, as were Kyle—Oliver’s brother—and his boyfriend, Lao. Belatedly, Lucas realized this had unofficially been set aside as the “young couples” section.
“So how did you two meet?” Kyle asked, lounging in his boyfriend’s lap.
“My band has an unofficial mascot, Rex. That’s my friend’s dog. And one day Rex got really sick, throwing up and everything, so we rushed Rex to the emergency vet’s office because his usual one wasn’t available—”
“And I was there on night shift, absolutely miserable because it was 1:00 a.m. and I only had one cup of coffee, when these guys in leather jackets and ripped jeans come in carrying this small little poodle—”
“We’re all freaking out, shouting about how Rex is dying, and this cute vet just looks at us and goes—”
“If you don’t shut up and tell me what’s wrong in an inside voice, Rex won’t be the only thing dying.” Oliver mimicked his voice and expression as best he could—he was a lot less snappy when he’d gotten eight hours of sleep, but it was close enough.
“And he took Rex back and figured out that Rex had just eaten something that disagreed with him but was otherwise fine. Meanwhile I’m pacing in the waiting room because I just saw an angel, and if I didn’t get his number, I’d never forgive myself,” Lucas said, winking at his boyfriend.
Alice looked like she thought it was the cutest story, which made Lucas wonder—
“I’m surprised he hasn’t told you this story yet. It took me three tries to ask him for his number because I kept messing up my words. I’m pretty sure I said ‘phone number yours and mine’ at some point,” Lucas joked.
“Oliver doesn’t talk to us ever,” Sammy complained. She threw a balled-up napkin at him, which he just stared at as it hit him in the chest. “I think my mom heard from his mom that he was dating someone—that’s how I learned about it.”
“At least someone told you!” Alice complained. “I found out through Facebook. Facebook, Ollie.” She said something in Mandarin, and everyone laughed. Oliver flushed, mumbling something back.
“Remember when you came out, little brother?” Kyle asked. Oliver made a face, and Lucas wondered if he should change the subject.
“Aiya,” Alice said, “I thought I was going to die from embarrassment when Mom made that group text.”
“My mother made a group text with every single one of my relatives, letting them know that I had cut my hair in the bathroom and was demanding that I go by a different name.” Oliver sighed, setting his half-full plate aside. The paper was soaked through with sauce, and Lucas stacked it on top of his empty plate. “I thought she’d never stop crying about it. She was more concerned about the hair than much else.”
“You told me that your family took it well?” Lucas questioned, deciding that Oliver could stop the conversation at any point if he wanted.
“Grandma Bai was so confused,” Sammy said. “I think that my dad had to talk to her for an hour before she understood.”
“She still doesn’t understand; she’s just too old to care,” Oliver replied. He rolled his eyes. Jeffrey said something in Mandarin, and Oliver snapped at him, voice rising. Alice looked uncomfortable and shifted on the couch.
“I bet that Mom is going to—” She was interrupted by Jeffrey muttering something softly. Oliver called him out, and then Sammy told him off, left eyebrow raising the same way Oliver’s did whenever Lucas tried to lie to him about not eating the last piece of pizza or leaving the toilet seat up.
Jeffrey and Oliver kept talking, Sammy and Alice jumping in every now and again. Lucas watched Oliver’s face, unable to understand any of the words. Oliver’s eyebrows were furrowed, his hands tensed into fists, and his entire body was growing warm. Lucas went to take one of his hands and squeeze it, to reassure Oliver that it was okay, but Oliver pushed his hand aside and kept berating Jeffrey. Or was Jeffrey speaking down to Oliver? It was hard to tell.
Sammy and Alice both were trying to get them to calm down, Alice slipping in and out of English, while Paul, Kyle, and Lao sat there in various degrees of discomfort. The conversation was like watching a tennis match, even if Lucas couldn’t understand a word. Jeffrey had a deep scowl on his face, arms crossed even as he leaned forward. Oliver looked torn between getting up and throwing punches or bursting into tears.
“Ollie…,” Lucas murmured, snapping Oliver out of the conversation. He blinked, looking at Lucas with wide eyes. “Maybe we should leave.”
Jeffrey said something, and Alice glared at him, replying in a stern tone. Oliver shook his head and stood.
“I apologize for making everything so
difficult,” Oliver said in a steady, low tone. Then he left, heading up the stairs. Lucas jumped to his feet and hurried after him, taking the stairs two at a time and closing the bedroom door behind him. Oliver swore as he took one of the stacks on his desk and shoved it, scattering paper everywhere. He paced back and forth, trembling, and Lucas itched to help—only he wasn’t sure how.
“I’m sorry,” Lucas said.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Oliver told him. “This is—argh! I knew that it was too soon. I knew this was stupid. But that—that ass. How is Alice marrying him?” He didn’t look at Lucas as he spoke. His feet kicked and further scattered the paper that lay on the floor. “I can’t believe them! All of them, just—fuck—” Oliver stopped, staring at the ground. “I just wanted this to go well for once in my damn life.” His shoulders shook, and he covered his face with his hands.
“O-Ollie?” Lucas couldn’t believe it until he heard the first muffled sob. He lurched into action, wrapping Oliver up in his arms and gently leading him to the bed. The two sat down, Lucas rubbing soft circles on Oliver’s back as he tried to hide the fact that he was crying.
For a while, they sat there, Oliver refusing to talk or look at Lucas while Lucas just felt worse and worse. He knew that he wasn’t impressive. He was in a band that could barely keep itself above water, he wore secondhand clothes, and his academic achievements were next to none. Not to mention the fact that he dyed his hair funny colors, he had more piercings in one ear than most people had in their entire body, and he could be rough. His manners weren’t the best. But Lucas never thought that Oliver would be crying about how bad of an idea it was to introduce Lucas to his family.
“I… I can leave, you know. Get a hotel and Greyhound back. Or whatever. If that would be easier,” Lucas offered, even though the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in Arizona alone during the holiday season.
This finally got Oliver to look up. His eyes were rimmed with red and he had snot all over his face, but he was still the cutest person Lucas had even seen. “Why would that make things better?” Oliver asked.
Lucas felt himself thrown, world lurching sideways. “B-Because everyone hates me?” He could tell Oliver wasn’t following. “You know, because I’m stupid and can’t speak Mandarin? I’m boring and not a doctor or engineer or anything cool and wealthy—”
“Lucas, you’re the only reason I’m still half-sane today,” Oliver said. “They—I’m not upset because of you. Everyone loves you. My grandma thinks you’re the most polite young man she’s ever met, my uncles kept asking me about a wedding—” He wrung his hands in the air. Lucas reached out and took them in his own, his musician’s calluses rough against Oliver’s much softer skin. “I know I haven’t exactly been eager to introduce you to my family….”
“It’s okay, Ollie. You didn’t know if they’d like me, and you wanted to make sure we were serious. That’s normal,” Lucas interrupted.
Oliver laughed. “You really don’t get it, do you? The reason I didn’t introduce you is because half of my family doesn’t remember my real name and the other half doesn’t care enough to use it. I’m the reason my uncle Bao Bao stopped coming to family celebrations. He was raised Christian like most of my family, only he was fanatical about it.”
“I thought he moved back to China?”
“He did,” Oliver agreed. “But he hadn’t been to this house for years. My mother told him that he didn’t have to agree with me, but that he had to remember I was family. That was too much for him, so he broke ties with us entirely.”
“That…. That’s awful,” Lucas said, well aware his words weren’t nearly enough.
“Yeah, well, I’m just lucky my mom didn’t throw me out or yell at me about how I’m a shame and a disgrace to the family.” Oliver made a face. “So… that’s it. That’s why you haven’t met my family. Because I’m the grandchild or nephew or whatever who didn’t go to med school or become an engineer and had the audacity to be transgender.”
“Your brother is gay, though.” Lucas said it before his mind reminded him why that was an unfair comparison. “Sorry, I know it’s different but… didn’t it help at all? Two queer kids and all that?”
“I guess, but he never tried to be straight. I was—I was a good kid. I never showed any signs of being trans.” Oliver let out a bitter laugh. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to enjoy yourself and meet my family, but it looks like I can’t keep it together long enough for even that.”
“Hey, no.” Lucas squeezed Oliver’s hands, shifting closer to him so their legs were touching. “I am enjoying this. Your family is kind of a mess and some of them are jerks, but, y’know, it’s better than drinking beer and playing with the band while we talk shit about other bands.”
Oliver adopted a weak smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was close. “Are you sure? You like talking shit.”
“Yeah, because you’re here.” Lucas kissed the side of Oliver’s tear-stained face. “And, if it isn’t too presumptuous, I’d like to be here for more holidays in the future.”
“Presumptuous—big, fancy word for someone who thinks Scrabble is best played with obscenities.”
“Considering you probably know how to spell presumptuous and I don’t, yeah.” Lucas smiled, and Oliver returned it. He wiped at his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “We can stay up here—”
“No, no, we should go back down. I don’t want you to miss the tangyuan—honestly it’s the best part—and everyone is going to be focused on the competition anyway.” Oliver shrugged. “Just don’t be surprised if I ignore Jeffrey. That ass.”
“What did he even say? Do you want me to punch him? I’m not related to anyone here, so my reputation can burn, I don’t care,” Lucas said.
“Ugh, I wish. He’s still marrying my sister, though what she sees in him…. No, uh, he just said that I was being rude and then started accusing me of not caring about my family. A real man wouldn’t shame his relatives by speaking poorly about them behind their backs—things like that. Stupid stuff.” Oliver waved a hand in the air. The gesture was so similar to Sammy’s that Lucas was thrown for a moment. “I love Grandma Bai, but she’s also old and… ingrained in her ways.”
“Yeah, she seems like it.” Lucas blinked in surprise as Oliver suddenly leaned over and kissed him.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs and play nice with the family.”
TANGYUAN, LUCAS found out, was sticky and colorless until dye was added. The older generation used natural dyes, like fruit juice, while the kids and anyone who wasn’t really doing this for the competition used store-bought dye. The kids seemed content to make the funniest and strangest shapes but everyone else seemed content to make little balls filled with bean paste that Oliver swore tasted good. Lucas still thought that the kid making a sword-shaped tangyuan had the right idea.
Oliver, it turned out, was actually quite good at rolling the dough out and getting the colors he wanted. Lucas wondered if he was intentionally making everything the color of the trans pride flag, but decided against saying anything.
Lucas, however, was quite bad at it. The dough kept getting stuck on his fingers, and he grew impatient quickly, smashing the incomplete balls and pouting when he couldn’t figure out why his tasted more bland. Oliver ended up taking pity on him and started walking him through the process again, much to his relatives’ amusement.
“Come on, it’s not that hard. You play bass! You should be good with your fingers,” Oliver complained as he showed Lucas how to roll the dough out like he was in kindergarten.
“That’s different,” Lucas whined. “That’s easy.”
Next to him, Mei said something in Mandarin that made Oliver laugh.
“She said that the reason you’re having trouble is because you aren’t Chinese, and the dough knows, so it’s giving you trouble,” Oliver told him.
“Listen, it sounds better than me being an idiot who can’t cook,” Lucas replied. He looked over at Sammy’s kids,
who were young enough that the dough was a meal in and of itself. One of the older boys was trying to teach his sister how to make a real ball, but she wasn’t coordinated enough, and he kept getting frustrated.
“No,” the boy complained. “You gotta make it a circle and then you put the stuff inside.” He grabbed some dough and made a circular shape and showed his sister. “Like this. A circle.”
Personally, Lucas wouldn’t have called it a circle, but the kid couldn’t have been any older than eight so he couldn’t be judged too harshly.
The boy’s sister managed to pound some dough into a flat enough shape to put some bean paste in it, then ate it like a minipizza. Lucas grinned as he caught her eyes. She just stared as she licked her fingers one by one, the dough stubbornly staying put.
Lucas held out one of his tangyuan, and she took it from him and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. She chewed it thoughtfully before making a face. Lucas just laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Oliver asked, looking over at Lucas. There was somehow a bit of sugar in Oliver’s hair, and he had a smear of dough under his left eye. Lucas’s grin grew three sizes larger as he grabbed a napkin and brushed the dough off.
“Nothing, just getting to know your niece, that’s all,” Lucas replied. Technically the girl was Oliver’s cousin, since she was Sammy’s kid, but Lucas remembered that Oliver called her his niece. It was probably easier for the kid.
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Careful. If you look like you’re good with kids, we’re never going to hear the end of it.” He raised his voice, mimicking his mother. “What do you mean you don’t want kids? You know your brother isn’t going to give me grandkids and your sister is too busy with work. Do you want me to die before I have any grandkids? I’m an old woman, Oliver, an old woman!” He shook his head, but there was still a smile on his face. “I keep telling my brother to adopt a dog so maybe then Mom will back off. No luck so far.”
