“Auntie Yingfei and I are studying English word too,” he says.
“What ‘acute’ mean?” Auntie Yingfei asks me. She pulls out a fat book labeled “Engglish Vocabularley.”
“Oh, it means adorable!” I say, proud to be able to be useful. “Like, that’s ‘a cute’ purse or ‘a cute’ dog.”
Uncle Dai and Auntie Yingfei nod enthusiastically. “Weijun, we are so glad we have native English speaker here!” Uncle Dai exclaims, clapping me on the back. “We hope Ruby will be smart like you. So much to learn from American cousin. Ruby, you must ask Iris lots of question.”
Ruby looks up, horrified. “It doesn’t mean that!” She pulls her face into an indignant expression.
But Uncle Dai doesn’t seem to hear her. She actually looks genuinely hurt. Like she wants to say more about how she feels. I also want to say something about me not being smart and failing senior year, but I’m not sure if it will even help in this situation. It’s like her dad is completely underestimating her mental abilities, while my dad constantly overestimates mine.
Why does my dad think I’m smarter, better, and more capable than I am? Why couldn’t he just think I was a humongous loser and none of us would even be having this shitty conversation?
The truth feels slimy, a lot like eating potato salad that has melted in the sun.
My heart collapses.
Our dads’ perceptions of us as real people, to be honest, kind of suck.
Don’t they know that expectations can lead to multiple and long-lasting disasters for future generations? How selfish can they be?
“Weijun, your daddy tell us to be careful because you are Tiger,” Uncle Dai says, interrupting my downward spiral of gloomy thoughts.
“Oh,” I say, frowning.
“But I told him not to worry because Auntie Yingfei and I are powerful Dragon. We can control wild Tiger.”
I laugh nervously. Chinese superstitions make me nervous. Do they have more power to come true in China?
“What is Ruby?” I force myself to ask.
“She is Monkey,” he says, frowning.
He looks at Auntie Yingfei and they seem to exchange worried looks. Then they speak together in long strands of rapid-fire Chinese.
I don’t know what it all means. Are they all absurdly superstitious like my dad? I’m seriously worried that means Ruby and I are about to set off a double curse. If I’m flower-hearted, what is she? Her heart must be made out of stainless steel or concrete. Maybe my cousin is a clockwork monkey or just a heartless glass figurine. What type of monkey-heart is she? I just can’t seem to figure it out.
Ruby says something complain-y to her parents, but Uncle Dai shushes her.
“Listen to Iris! English is her first language!”
“Iris doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” Ruby says, sounding frustrated.
Uncle Dai frowns, staring at me. I wonder what he sees when he looks through me. Does he see me as a potential Ruby?
Then I remember that I need his approval so that he can decide when I’ll go home. I’ve never wanted to go back to Bradley Gardens so badly. I want to wake up in my own bedroom; my dad goofily singing Broadway musicals, making cheddar cheese, bacon, and chive waffles on Sunday; my mom reciting, like a personal mantra, which top-tier colleges all her friends’ children were applying to for early admission. All of that I would have found supremely annoying once upon a time, but it would make me feel less lonely and homesick now.
“English is my only language,” I finally say, nodding wisely. I inhale my nutty tea like water and feel more worldly and wise. Like some newly named prophet. At least I know my English vocabulary words. Proust was too foreign.
“Okay, Ruby teach Weijun Chinese now,” Uncle Dai says, clapping excitedly. “I tell your daddy that you will learn Chinese by end of summer, okay? Starting today.”
Isn’t it enough that I’m apparently a genius at English?
The deadline to learn a brand-new language is incredibly fast.
“I promise your daddy that your uncle Dai is always right.”
Ruby snorts and turns to me. “Of course, since you are great at English, learning Chinese shouldn’t be hard, right?”
“Absolutely!” I say, taking another swig of tea, then reaching for Ruby’s, since she hasn’t touched hers. She quickly slaps my hand away, like I’m a fly-size annoyance. I wince.
“Okay, I go to work now. Ruby teach Weijun and Weijun teach Ruby. Everyone learn new language or no more allowance.”
He laughs at his own unfunny joke. Then he stares at us seriously. “No more shopping, no credit card if you both do not show improvement. Ruby need A-plus in English paper. Iris need finish reading all textbook and pass beginner Mandarin test. If I can talk English, Weijun can talk Chinese. Okay?”
Quickly, in response, I make a face and clutch my stomach, saying that I need to go to the bathroom. I don’t do well with deadlines or ultimatums. Being told what to do causes sharp, fearful spasms inside me. For Iris Wang, expectations are like sweaty long-jump meets or hurdles. They usually mean falling on my face and chipping a tooth because I can’t meet or surpass them. Since kindergarten, I don’t remember ever excelling at anything. Even my macaroni necklaces were subpar. If I fail Uncle Dai’s demands to finish an entire Chinese beginner book, will he no longer like me? Will he exile me and Ruby to a Proust-speaking country?
Pretending to flush every fifteen minutes, I fake moan: “Owwwwwww! Oh my god, I think I’m dying! Ughhhhhhhhhh!”
I sound like one of those bad special-effects machines in a haunted house at a carnival, but it seems to work.
No one bothers me afterward.
Anxious and afraid, I stay in the bathroom until I hear everyone go to bed.
WECHAT GROUP (#1WangFamily!!!)
Iris: Hey, what does it mean if someone is born in the Year of the Monkey?
IrisDaddy: Normally, a Monkey is a smart animal, but it is a Tiger’s worst enemy. Do you know a Monkey? Why do you ask?
Iris: No reason.
IrisDaddy: Okay, but be careful of the Monkey. Not a Tiger friend.
Iris: Ok.
Mom: Don’t listen to your dad. It’s all nonsense. How’s your stomach?
IrisDaddy: Are you learning Chinese? Hope you are studying.
19
Chinese Parent Approved
Since I am too sick, I am allowed to stay home. I hope this is an indefinite leave of absence from studying and summer school. Auntie Yingfei, who apparently works at a very important international bank, cannot take a day off and asks Mr. Chen to babysit me. Mr. Chen watches a football game on his iPad, so I end up scrolling through my social media feeds.
At least six people have commented on Samira’s relationship status. Are Peter and Iris really over? What happened?!!!!
My heart lurches. I still can’t believe that Peter broke up with me.
Social media suddenly makes it too real.
It’s not official until it’s been posted on at least three different social media sites and retweeted and shared six times. To make matters worse, despite us recently reconnecting as DM “friends,” Samira has tagged me in ten new photos of her and Peter. They’re touching each other’s arms and legs in every single shot. Samira has even taken photographs of all the presents that Peter has given her: flowers, concert tickets, and Blu-rays of movies that he and I used to watch together.