“I call them every week.”
“Calling isn’t the same as seeing, is it?” Amy arched an eyebrow, and he suddenly felt like he was ten again, tracking mud through the house after she’d mopped the floors. “They’re old, and your grandfather’s health isn’t so good. Who knows how much longer they’ll have?”
No one could guilt trip like an Asian mom.
Sammy sighed. “I’ll be there.” He’d learned to pick his battles a long time ago.
“Great! Your grandparents will be thrilled. I heard Edison has big news, too.” Amy snorted. “He probably bought a new car or something equally tacky. Your Auntie Ling’s always bragging about him like he’s something special because he went to Harvard and is a big-time lawyer, but I know better.” She patted Sammy on the cheek. “Youturned downHarvard. Who needs a degree from that big, over-hyped university anyway? Harvey Mudd is smaller, more prestigious, and you work for yourself instead of some corporate boss. Plus, you’re taller and more handsome.” His mother looked smug. “Edison’s only 1.5 meters tall, and he’s not the one all the waitresses at Wah Sing go crazy over.”
Even though she’d lived in the U.S. for over three decades, Amy still used the metric measuring system instead of the American Imperial system. Old habits die hard.
Sammy’s cheeks colored. “Mom!”
“What? It’s the truth.” She leaned in and whispered, “I heard from your Auntie Felicia that Edison got implants for that receding chin of his, which does look stronger nowadays.”
The one thing his relatives loved more than guilt-tripping their children was gossiping.
“I’m not touching that topic with a ten-foot pole.” Sammy helped his mom unpack the rest of his groceries. “How’s Dad?”
“Fine, fine.” His mom shoved a bottle of hoisin sauce into a cabinet. “He went hiking with your uncles. Imagine! A bunch of old men trying to act like they’re still young. I told him if he made it to the top, I’d eat my shoe.” Her words were harsh, but her tone was loving.
“Not your new Coach sneakers, I hope.” Sammy laughed when she punched him playfully in the arm.
“Don’t sass me—”
A door opened and closed in the back of the house, followed by the faint but unmistakable sound of a shower running.
Sammy’s shoulders stiffened.Oh, no.
His mother’s head twisted slowly toward the hallway that housed the bedrooms and bathroom. The shower sounded unbearably loud in the otherwise silent house. Then she twisted her head around until she faced Sammy again.
The glee in her expression made him take a step back.
“Who’s in the shower?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Is it a girl? Do you have a girl over?”
She couldn’t have been more excited if she found out she won free round-trip tickets to Hawaii.
The jackhammers in Sammy’s head pounded anew. Between this and his earlier argument with Olivia, they’d had a busy day. “No. I mean, yes, but no.”
Amy frowned. “You’re not making any sense. Is it a girl or not?”
“It is, but—”
She flew toward the bathroom, leaving him alone in the kitchen.
“—it’s not what you think,” Sammy finished. He followed his mother into the hallway, where she stood outside the bathroom door with anticipation gleaming in her eyes. His stomach pulsed with dread. “Mom, she’s in the shower. You can’t wait for her outside the bathroom like this. It’s creepy.”
“I need to use the toilet,” she said. “What’s creepy about that? People wait outside public bathrooms all the time.”
This isn’t a public bathroom,he wanted to say, but he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. There was no arguing with his mom once she set her mind on something.
Sammy could only watch in slow-motion horror when the bathroom door opened a few minutes later and steam poured out, partially obscuring an unsuspecting Olivia as she stepped into the hall. For once, he wished she was one of those women who took forever in the shower—no way would his mom wait here for an hour—but she was quick and efficient, as always.
Olivia’s tanned skin glistened with crystal droplets of water, and her dark, damp hair was slicked back, highlighting her cheekbones. She held onto the top of the towel wrapped around her slender frame with one hand and reached for her bedroom door with the other. Judging by the far-off look in her eyes, she was deep in thought and didn’t notice she had company in the hall.
In any other situation, Sammy would’ve been turned on as hell—hot girl in a towel!—but it was hard to feel lustful when you were watching an imminent car crash.
“Hello,” Amy said in English.