Chapter 2

The next day, by noon, Wyatt hadn't shown up.

My mother checked the door five times before finally putting the tender stewed pork ribs back into the pot.

"You think Wyatt's stuck in traffic?"

"Maybe."

I set the candles into the cake.

My uncle's family sat around the table. They'd already been waiting more than an hour.

My cousin leaned in and asked me quietly.

"Is he really coming? The food's been reheated three times."

Before I could answer, the door finally opened.

Wyatt walked in carrying a document envelope, Madeline right behind him.

My mother stood up at once.

"Wyatt, you're here, sit, sit. Madeline came too, perfect, we'll all eat together."

Madeline held out a massage device, smiling sweetly.

"Happy birthday, Auntie. Wyatt picked this out for you. He said your back's been bothering you."

She called him Wyatt.

I looked at him.

He didn't correct her. He just handed me the envelope.

"Sign this."

I pulled out the paper inside.

It was this month's household-account statement.

At the very bottom was a new expense, seven thousand eight hundred dollars, noted as a birthday gift, with my name written in as the borrower.

"I didn't buy this."

"The gift's for your mother, so of course it comes out of your allowance."

Wyatt pulled out a chair, his tone as level as ever.

"You've got twenty-one hundred left in your allowance this month. The extra fifty-seven hundred goes down as a loan."

My uncle froze.

"Buying his mother-in-law a birthday gift, and he still makes Irma write an IOU?"

Wyatt took out a pen.

"Even blood brothers settle their accounts clearly. Married couples should be even clearer. This isn't nitpicking. It's how we avoid resenting each other later."

Madeline chimed in softly too.

"Irma, Mr. Delgado keeping a tight rein is for your own good. He even compared six brands before choosing this massager."

The smile on my mother's face stiffened, inch by inch.

She pushed the massager back.

"I don't need this. You can return it."

"Auntie, it's already bought. Returning it is such a hassle."

Madeline took hold of her hand.

"Besides, it's only seven thousand or so. That's nothing to Mr. Delgado."

"It's nothing to him, but my daughter has to sign an IOU?"

My mother's voice trembled.

Wyatt frowned slightly.

"Mom, this is our family rule. Don't misunderstand it."

"I don't understand your rules."

My mother went into the bedroom and came back with a bank card, setting it on the table.

"There's eighty thousand on this. It's the emergency money Irma's father left her before he passed. I've been keeping it for her. She spent your money on her surgery, so I'll pay you back for her."

I shot to my feet.

"Mom, don't."

But Wyatt picked up the card first.

"Since you insist, I'll have Irma write out a statement of repayment on your behalf, so there's no confusion later."

The whole table went silent.

I snatched the card away.

"Wyatt, put it down."

He looked at me, his eyes going cold.

"Don't throw a tantrum in front of your elders."

"And who made me look bad today?"

"Nobody's trying to make you look bad. You're the one turning normal bookkeeping into some kind of humiliation."

The moment he finished, the phone Madeline had set on the edge of the table buzzed.

She glanced at the time, her face turning anxious.

"The hospital reminded me I need my nutrition screening done before two. Are we going to make it?"

Wyatt stood.

"We'll go now. You can't be late for the appointment."

Then he picked up the cake from the table.

"Madeline's gone too long without eating. She gets low blood sugar easily. Take this to have on the way."

After the door closed, all that was left on the table was an empty cake tray.

My mother lowered her head to clear the dishes. It was a long while before she asked me.

"Irma, the day you had your surgery, he didn't come either, did he?"

I didn't answer.

That day, he hadn't messaged until the surgery was already over, saying he was out of town and couldn't get back in time.

My mother read the answer in my silence.

The hand holding the plate shook.

The plate slipped into the sink and split in two.