Cilla Lee-Jenkins--This Book Is a Classic

by Susan Tan

  There was more food than I’ve ever seen in my life at that banquet, and I agreed with Grandpa Jenkins when he leaned back happily in his chair and said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be hungry again.”

  But when the desserts came out, Grandpa Jenkins and I changed our minds very fast. Because after the Traditional Chinese banquet, we had Traditional Korean desserts. There were plates piled high with beautiful purple and pink and white cakes that Noah explained were made of sweet rice called tteok and then filled with red bean paste (and you know how I feel about red bean paste).

  So I was very full and happy when I got into my couch bed this evening. My mom kissed me on the forehead and said, “Sleep well, sweetheart. Tomorrow’s going to be so much fun.”

  I smiled, and thought about how Auntie Eva looked so happy, and how much I really liked Paul, and how nice the idea of having Noah in my family is.

  And I realized how excited I am for the wedding.

  * * *

  Now I’m writing on my hotel couch bed.

  And I’m thinking about what I’ve learned and how many surprises I’ve had.

  There’s still a part of me that worries, because I hope Nai Nai and Ye Ye and Mr. Kim and Mrs. Kim can Get Along and be friends.

  Because I know how these things can be. It took a long time for my family to start being a family, all together. And the Lees and the Kims seem really, really different.

  But I’m also thinking about Paul learning Chinese words. And how Auntie Eva’s wearing a Traditional Korean dress tomorrow.

  Which makes me feel better.

  So I’m going to go to sleep, because tomorrow is THE Big Day, and I want to be ready.

  And I’ve decided that I’m not going to be nervous anymore about tomorrow. Because now all I have to do is be a good flower girl and do everything just like I did in the rehearsal. And I know I can do that.

  I’m a future author extraordinaire, and a future Classic author, after all.

  And besides, all the unexpected has already happened.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  13

  THE BIG DAY

  The morning of the wedding was busier than I’d thought it would be. Of course, I know by now that weddings take a lot of preparation, but we’d already done SO much and what could there possibly be left to do?!

  But when I said this to my mom, she just laughed.

  And now, I’ll admit that I can understand why.

  Because the answer to this question is: A LOT.

  First, everyone had to take a shower, and there was a lot of scrubbing and cleaning. My mom put special gel in my hair and used a hair dryer, which was a Big Deal because this is something I only get to do for VERY special occasions. And as she did my hair, I sat very still and reminded myself that I’d decided not to be nervous.

  I did a pretty good job of this too. In fact, while my mom was doing the finishing touches with the curling iron (which I’ve never been allowed to use before), she paused and said, “You haven’t said a word all morning, Cilla. You okay?”

  “Yes,” I said, keeping as still as possible. “I’m just being calm. And grown-up.”

  My mom put a hand on my face and looked at me in the mirror.

  “You’re already so grown-up, my special girl,” she said. “All you need to do today is have fun.” Then, “Tell you what—when we get to the ceremony hall, I promise that one of us will be there to keep you company and to help you not be nervous, until right before the ceremony. Okay?”

  And finally, I smiled. Because I liked this plan.

  After lunch, we took my dress from the closet, and my mom walked me down the hallway to the big room where my Auntie Eva and all her bridesmaids were getting ready.

  Jane opened the door for us, and I know my eyes got big, because there were people everywhere, all not ready yet, with curlers in their hair and silky pink bathrobes, and they were running around and saying things like, “Linda, have you seen my lipstick?!”

  And at the center of them all, Auntie Eva was sitting at a table, and someone was brushing light, just-sparkly-enough powder on her eyes. Her hair was up in a bun with one curl at the side, and she looked BEAUTIFUL.

  Auntie Eva gave me a big hug (or as much as she could, because the person doing her makeup said, “Careful!”).

  My mom gave me a kiss and left to get ready, and Jane painted my nails light pink and used the hair dryer again to help them dry. Then Karen, who was also really nice, helped me put on what she said was “just a touch” of makeup, which is a REALLY grown-up thing, so that was also very exciting.

  Nai Nai came in, wearing her glittery purple dress, soon after that, and then Mrs. Kim in a pretty blue one. They gave hugs and said how nice everyone looked, and then they sat together on a couch in the room, though I noticed that they weren’t talking very much. And when they did, it was to say things like “Beautiful dress,” and “Nice weather,” and “What a day,” which aren’t really that exciting.

  So I went over and said hello and asked them if I should have a ribbon in my hair.

  They both said yes, which was great, because I know from experience that the more two sides of a family have in common, the better.

  And let’s be honest—everyone likes ribbons.

  After all the hair brushing and spraying and twisting was done, it was (FINALLY!) time for the dresses.

  Nai Nai helped me get mine on, and it was soft and beautiful, and Auntie Eva and all the bridesmaids said, “Awww.”

  Next came the bridesmaids. They put on bright blue dresses and came twirling into the room. Jane did a funny dance, and everyone was having a great and silly time.

  Finally, it was Auntie Eva’s turn.

  When Auntie Eva came out in her dress, which Jane and Nai Nai had helped her put on in the GIANT bathroom, I gasped. Because Auntie Eva looked just like a princess, with a poofy dress, no sparkles (sadly), but LOTS of lace that shimmered and made swishing sounds when she moved.

  There was nothing to do but clap. And though Nai Nai tried to hide it, we all saw her sniffle when Jane helped Auntie Eva put on her long white veil, which clipped into her hair and swirled down the back of her dress like a shimmery wave. (Which is an excellent Simile, if I do say so myself, because this veil only deserves the best. It was that beautiful.)

  We went outside to take pictures, and the rest of our family came to join us. I stood with my mom and dad in some and with Jane and the bridesmaids in others. It was fun, though every once in a while I remembered how soon the ceremony was and got a flutter in my stomach. And the photographer said “Smile” so much that sometimes my smile felt watery and not quite real, and it was hard to do it every time she asked. But I tried because I wanted to do everything I could for Auntie Eva’s Big Day.

  I rode in a LIMO, with Auntie Eva, Nai Nai, Mrs. Kim, and the bridesmaids, and we arrived at the ceremony hall before everyone else did. I was glad, because there weren’t lots of people to stare or to make me nervous. But from the room we waited in (which had comfortable couches and platters with pieces of fruit on little sticks), I could hear as people began to arrive. There were A LOT of voices all of a sudden, and I remembered how big the hall had seemed the day before and how many chairs there were. So I tried to take deep breaths, but that didn’t quite work because I think the room was dusty and I kept sneezing. And it’s hard to look like a responsible flower girl when that happens.

  Between my sneezes, I watched my Nai Nai and Mrs. Kim sit quietly by each other. Every few minutes they’d say something, and Auntie Eva started coming over to ask them questions and to say hello. Jane noticed this too, and she came over and sat between them and started asking all about Auntie Eva and Paul when they were younger. Then she started telling jokes, and I wanted to help, so between the sneezing I tried to laugh really hard (though that can be difficult when you’re sneezy and nervous). But I think Jane appreciated it.

  It seemed to be working a little, though Mrs. Kim was still very quiet and so
was Nai Nai, which was frustrating because Nai Nai usually loves jokes (she laughs at all of Ye Ye’s even though some of them are definitely more silly than funny). And I wondered why everything had to be so complicated when it comes to families.

  I sat there thinking and, I’ll admit, worrying.

  So it was a big relief when there was a knock on the door and I heard a familiar, jokey voice say, “Hey, sis, what’s the occasion?”

  “Daddy!” I yelled, running over to him, and he gave me a hug. My mom and Gwendolyn were just outside in the hallway and wanted to see how I was and to keep me company just like they’d promised. My mom wore her beautiful dress with its big skirt, and my dad wore a suit, which was fun to see. And Gwendolyn looked excellent in her lacy white-and-light-pink dress, with a pink bow on her head that she kept trying to tug off.

  We went into the hallway, and my mom suggested that maybe I could practice there if that would make me feel better. So I started walking up and down the small hallway very slowly, pretending to throw petals from my basket, though it was hard because every once in a while I’d sneeze again. Which was distracting.

  Nai Nai came out to talk with my mom and dad. And a few minutes later, Mrs. Kim came out to say hello to some of Paul’s cousins, who had arrived late.

  Every time I passed my mom, I squeezed her hand, and it made me feel better. But after a few minutes, someone came up to Mrs. Kim because they were confused about who was handing out programs, so my mom gave Gwendolyn to my dad and went to help. Right after that, there was a question about seats, and my dad gave Gwendolyn to Nai Nai, and he went to go help move things. Suddenly it was just me, Nai Nai, Mrs. Kim, and Gwendolyn in the hallway.

  I held my basket very tightly, and tried not to sneeze again, and told myself to just keep walking, up and down.

  Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.

  “Cilla, you look marvelous,” Grandma Jenkins said as she walked over in her special-day hat, the front weighed down by the new white-and-green flower (it was enormous and AMAZING and Grandma Jenkins was right, because you could barely tell it was plastic).

  And I smiled at Grandma Jenkins.

  But as I saw her introduce herself to Mrs. Kim, I realized that no one else was wearing a hat. My smile faded, and I wondered what Mrs. Kim thought about Grandma Jenkins.

  Especially with that GIANT flower.

  “Ellen’s still helping with the programs, Rachel,” Grandma said, “but I can take Gwendolyn for you, if you need to get ready.”

  “Thank you,” Nai Nai said, and she tried to hand Gwendolyn over to her, but it was hard because Gwendolyn was squirming and making unhappy noises all of a sudden.

  And my Grandma’s hat was falling over her eyes because of the heavy flower, and Nai Nai was trying to get Gwendolyn to let go of her hair so she wouldn’t mess it up, and then I started sneezing again and I couldn’t stop.

  And Gwendolyn was saying, “NO!”

  And Nai Nai was saying, “Ay yah!”

  And Grandma Jenkins was saying, “Oh my goodness gracious!”

  And I was saying, “Ah-CHOO!”

  So I don’t think anyone in my family was making a Good Impression AT ALL.

  Nai Nai managed to untangle her hair from Gwendolyn’s fist, and Grandma Jenkins took her, bouncing her up and down and making soothing noises. But it was loud in the hall, which I know Gwendolyn doesn’t like. And then Nai Nai rummaged through the diaper bag my mom had left in the hallway and found Batman, because he usually calms Gwendolyn down.

  But when Nai Nai tried to give it to her, Gwendolyn turned her face away. Suddenly her cheeks started turning red, and she scrunched up her face.

  And Gwendolyn started to cry. Loudly.

  “No!” she said, twisting herself around in Grandma Jenkins’s arms. “No Bah-man. Rara!”

  “Leave your hair alone, Gwendolyn,” Grandma said, bouncing her and trying to check if her diaper was wet. But she couldn’t quite get there because her hat started sliding forward again.

  “Ay yah!” Nai Nai said, and went to go help, but her arm caught on Grandma Jenkins’s purse, and then they had to untangle themselves as Gwendolyn began to yell.

  “NO,” Gwendolyn cried. “Rara!”

  I saw my grandmas and my sister tangled up and shushing and yelling.

  I know what I have to do, I told myself. Just keep walking.

  “Gwendolyn, darling, it’s okay,” Grandma Jenkins said from behind me, and I started my flower girl walk again, up and down.

  “Rara!” Gwendolyn’s cheeks were red, and her mouth shook.

  “Shhhhh,” Nai Nai said, in her most calming voice.

  “Rara!” Gwendolyn’s face was wet with tears.

  Mrs. Kim took a step backward.

  I kept walking.

  “Rara,” Gwendolyn sobbed.

  No one was helping, and everyone was making a bad impression, and no one was there just for me, like my mom had said they would be—

  “Rara!”

  Now Gwendolyn was having a tantrum, and I was trying to do all these things for her and help her find her Destiny and she never noticed, and she wouldn’t say my name, and why should I—

  “RARA!” Gwendolyn wailed, in a voice that was sad and, I realized all of a sudden, scared.

  “Gwendolyn!” I said. And then I was running to her, and she had her arms out to me, and she held me tight, and my Nai Nai caught my basket just before it fell.

  “Awww,” Mrs. Kim said. She smiled a big smile that made her look soft and friendly and just like Paul. “Of course!” she went on. “She wanted her sister. I should have known.”

  And Grandma and Nai Nai at the same time said, “Oh!”

  I looked at them, because I didn’t understand.

  And then I looked down at Gwendolyn. Who looked up at me, and sniffled, and said “Rara” again. This time happily.

  “You…,” I said, feeling my breath come in a little gasp, finally understanding. “You’ve been saying my name, Gwendolyn. You’ve been saying it this whole time.”

  “Rara,” she said, looking up at me.

  As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  And then there was nothing to do but hold on to her, as she held on to me, tightly.

  * * *

  In a few minutes, Gwendolyn was calm. I wiped her cheeks with the edge of my sleeve, and it was like she’d never been upset in the first place.

  “It’s almost time,” Grandma Jenkins said quietly. “I should take her back now, so you can get ready.” Gwendolyn Fussed when I let go, but she didn’t cry.

  Nai Nai handed me my basket of petals again. I sneezed.

  “Ay yah,” she said.

  “I think you’re allergic,” Mrs. Kim said.

  “I can hold them far away from my face,” I suggested. But I sneezed again right after that, and I wasn’t so sure.

  “Hmmmm…” Mrs. Kim looked at me with a frown, and I tried to smile but I was scared because maybe I was going to ruin Auntie Eva’s wedding after all, because who’s ever heard of a flower girl with no flowers?

  “I have an idea,” Mrs. Kim said. She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at me in a way that made me giggle.

  Then she told my Grandma and Nai Nai her plan.

  “Wonderful,” Grandma Jenkins said. “I have just the thing.”

  “I have a pin,” Nai Nai said.

  When they were done, they all looked at me, grinning.

  “Well.” Grandma Jenkins sighed happily. “I think we make an excellent team, if I do say so myself.”

  And Nai Nai and Mrs. Kim nodded, looking very pleased with themselves.

  “What do you think, Cilla?” Mrs. Kim asked.

  And for once, I knew I was right, and not being unrealistic at all, when I smiled and said, “It’s perfect.”

  14

  CLASSIC LEE, CLASSIC JENKINS

  Traditionally, flower girls walk down the aisle very slowly and carefully, in time with the music, just like I did. Everyo
ne turned to look at me, which is also a wedding Tradition, and even though it was intimidating, it was also nice, because they were all friendly. I could see Grandma and Grandpa Jenkins and my mom and my dad. Paul was standing at the front of the room, and he smiled a big smile at me, so I smiled a big one back.

  But in my arms, instead of the Traditional basket or bouquet, or even just one single flower, I carried something else.

  Because Traditions are great. So, sometimes, you follow them.

  But sometimes, you make your own.

  And when I walked down the aisle at Auntie Eva’s wedding, I, Cilla Lee-Jenkins, flower girl and future author extraordinaire, carried my little sister, Gwendolyn Lee-Jenkins, Destiny unknown but great, with my Grandma Jenkins’s Giant Flower pinned right to the middle of her special white-and-light-pink dress.

  Gwendolyn looked around with wide eyes, and every once in a while she chewed (but gently) on the green and white flower petals. But she was very quiet and happy and didn’t Fuss at all.

  It turns out that most people cry at the “I do’s,” including my dad, Grandma, Grandpa, Nai Nai, and Ye Ye. And Mr. and Mrs. Kim. And me too, I learned. But not Gwendolyn (which is funny, because she cries at EVERYTHING else, as you probably know by now).

  Through it all, Auntie Eva and Paul looked really, really, really happy.

  When the wedding was over, we went out into the front big room, where there were snacks. Guests walked around and talked, and my mom and dad gave me big hugs and said, “I’m SO proud of you!”

  * * *

  When Auntie Eva and (I guess now Uncle) Paul came out again, they’d changed into what Mrs. Kim explained were Traditional Korean clothes called hanbok. She said that there were lots of Traditions about clothes and colors at Korean weddings.

  “Just like Chinese weddings!” I said.

  “Exactly.” She smiled. “That’s why I’m wearing blue—it’s a Tradition for the mother of the groom.”

  “Oh!” I said. And this conversation was amazing, and I wanted to know more, but just then, Auntie Eva came swishing over. She looked beautiful in her hanbok. It had lots of bright, bright colors and a HUGE skirt that poofed out and a small pink jacket that I really want. And Paul followed behind her wearing a colorful shirt and a vest and baggy, silky bright pants.