Chapter 4

4: 4

The day of my grandmother's seventieth birthday arrived.

In the old days, when my mom was working abroad, she would call to wish her a happy birthday and cover the entire cost of the banquet on top of it.

But today, my mom was quiet. She made me a big pot of spicy stir-fry.

She'd just taken off her apron and picked up her chopsticks with me when a string of numbers lit up the phone.

Grandma. How had they even found the number?

I didn't let my mom answer. I swiped it open myself and put it on speaker.

"Bella Summers!"

Grandma's voice came roaring through:

"Where the hell did you disappear to! Do you even have a mother anymore in your eyes!"

That fear crept back into my mom's eyes.

My voice went cold.

"Is there something you need."

"You don't get to talk, you worthless girl!"

"Where's your mother? Put her on!"

Grandma kept shouting:

"Today is my seventieth birthday!"

"The whole family's here! Tell your mom to get back here now, and your family is paying the bill for this banquet!"

"We're at that restaurant on the south side of town."

That place on the south side?

Two thousand a table, minimum.

Their whole lives, they'd treated my mom like a blood bag to feed off.

Never realizing a blood bag runs dry one day.

I walked to the living room window and looked out at a stretch of banyan crowns.

"She's not coming back."

"What do you mean, not coming back?"

Grandma clearly hadn't seen that coming.

"Your mother came out of me! I'm having my seventieth and she won't show? You ungrateful piece of trash!"

I answered:

"We've settled down in the south."

The line went silent.

Then I heard my aunt Julia's voice squeeze in from the side:

"The south? What south? Where would Bella get that kind of money?"

"Isn't she renting? You'd better look into it, maybe she's latched onto some man again—"

"Julia."

I cut her off:

"Show some respect. My mom isn't useless like you."

"My mom has a job."

"A job?"

Julia laughed:

"Still cleaning houses, I'll bet?"

"Well, good for her. Might as well work hard while she's still young, put it toward a house for your cousin's kid."

"Right, when are you two coming back? We couldn't reach you, we've been worried sick."

"The bride's side is pushing to add the name, so tell your mom to take leave and come back now!"

"The birthday, the title transfer, we'll get it all done at once!"

Worried sick?

Worried the blood bag was gone, more like.

I laughed too:

"My mom isn't coming back for the birthday, and she isn't giving the Summers family another cent."

Dead silence again on the other end.

Then I heard a huge crash, something getting flipped over.

Porcelain shattering, bowls and chopsticks hitting the floor, chair legs screeching against it.

"Where's Bella!"

My aunt's voice cracked:

"You get your mother here!"

"What about Duke! That house—"

I only smiled wider.

"The house isn't yours."

"What did you say?! That's the Summers family's—"

"The title lists my mom's name, and hers alone."

"That waiver she signed was signed under coercion. It holds no legal weight."

I said it, cheerful as anything:

"Don't you worry. Not in this lifetime will the bride's name ever go on it."

Then I hung up.

The phone rang again. I put it straight on silent.

My mom looked at me, something complicated in her eyes.

"That house, it's still mine?"

"Mm."

That was eight years of my mom's blood and sweat. Why on earth would we hand it to them?

I took a big bite of the spicy stir-fry, hissing through the heat.

"Whenever you want to go back, we'll go back."

"And even if we never do, I'd feed it to the dogs before I'd give it to them."

My mom finally let out a breath.

"You're right."

She took a bite of the stir-fry too.

"I stopped owing them anything a long time ago."

By now my mom's domestic services company was doing better and better, a 4.9 rating online.

We were strong enough now.

After a while, messages started dropping in one after another.

A distant cousin sent a message, asking carefully:

"Hailey, did you know your grandma's in the hospital?"

"Sudden stroke. They're saying you and your mom drove her to it."

"Your aunt had a huge blowup with your uncle at the hospital, said he was too useless to hold on to a cash cow like your mom—"

"And back at the hotel it was total chaos, nobody even settled the bill—"

From here on out, the real show was finally about to begin.