Chapter 2

A moment later, the whole room erupted.

"What! A senior community college?"

"You mean the kind of place that teaches people to grow flowers and play chess?"

"We old-timers have been dreading how boring retirement's going to be. Come on, tell your uncles all about it!"

When it comes to my field, I get proud, and before I knew it I'd slipped straight into recruitment mode.

"Uncle Stone, Uncle Lynn, the senior college offers a lot more than that."

"For instruments, we teach saxophone, cello, flute."

"And if you like the outdoors, our most popular class is How to Actually Catch Fish Instead of Feeding Them for Free."

He slapped his hands together, his voice jumping two octaves.

"That explains it! Lately your dad hasn't come home empty-handed once. Every trip he's landing a big one!"

"You have no idea. He used to be the patron saint of chumming an empty spot!"

"I asked him how he mixed his bait, and he actually told me it was a trade secret. Wouldn't tell me to save his life!"

The society wives beside us, who'd been listening with their ears pricked, couldn't hold back any longer.

Their eyes practically glowed green, and they pounced like weasels catching the scent of a henhouse.

"Daisy, sweetheart, did you teach your mother those dance steps too?"

"She's lost so much weight lately. She's got the figure of a young girl!"

"I'll give you a sports car, honey. Could you teach me a move or two as well?"

Seeing that many potential clients, I couldn't keep the corners of my mouth down. My enrollment quota for the year was as good as met.

Adding everyone one by one was too much of a hassle, so I just started a senior community college enrollment chat group.

"Everyone, I'll drop the official site info in the group. If you want to sign up, remember to put my name in the recruiting teacher field."

I'd become the center of the whole room, and Maya was ready to explode.

She held on to the smile on her face with effort and spoke slowly.

"Being good to our elders is all well and good, but as heirs to these families we should have some career ambition too, and carry on what our forebears built."

"If we don't step up, doesn't the family business just fall into someone else's hands? Am I right?"

She turned her hopeful gaze to Ruby Chavez, who was sitting closest to her.

"Ruby, wouldn't you agree?"

But across from her, Ruby just waved a hand, her face sour.

"That good-for-nothing of mine came to me for three million two years ago to open a restaurant. It folded in under six months."

"Last year he wanted five million to play at investing. Lost every cent inside a month!"

"You know what they say online? You don't have to worry about a rich kid lying flat and spending money. You worry the day a rich kid suddenly decides to try hard."

"My company's going to the rotating presidents from here on out. He's not laying a finger on it!"

The aunts and uncles nodded along in agreement, leaving the pack of rich heirs so mortified they wanted to crawl into a crack in the floor, all glaring daggers at Maya.

The look said it all: "Is there something seriously wrong with your head? You know we're a bunch of screwups, so why bring up the one thing nobody wants to hear!"

Seeing which way things were going, Joel quickly signaled his friend to step in and rescue the moment.

"Here, here, today's the day the Sanchez family's true daughter comes home. Let me raise a glass to you, sis."

"Right, let the aunts and uncles have their conversation. Our generation drinks with our own."

"Think of today as a meet-and-greet. Nobody leaves sober!"

I was a little annoyed. Joel knew I don't touch a drop, and he still had his friend pushing liquor on me.

The stuff in their hands was at least a hundred and forty proof. One glass and I'd be in the hospital.

"I'll toast with tea. Help yourselves."

"Sis, who exactly are you putting on airs for?"

Maya spotted her opening and stoked the fire, her tone all sneering edge.

"Everyone's showing up to give you face as the real daughter. You're not going to kill the mood for the whole room, are you?"

That one line had me roasting over the coals. Even my parents' table went quiet, their eyes sweeping over like searchlights.

As the saying goes, it takes a crowd to carry the fancy sedan chair. These families have their own kind of face to keep.

By rights, what I was doing was a bit rude. At the very least I should have taken a symbolic sip.

But I kept my hand steady on the glass, my face calm as I looked at the one pressing me to drink.

"Melvin Dickerson, let me give you a piece of advice. Put the glass down."

"You've got dark circles under your eyes, and your fingers have twitched a dozen times in the last minute. From a traditional medicine standpoint, that's kidney-yang deficiency."

"To put it plainly, it's an early symptom of impotence."