As my mother bounded out of the kitchen, she bragged, “I can’t wait to show all those other women my new Bible! It’ll prove how much my daughter loves me, more than their daughters love them!”

I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

December 29, 8:23 p.m. PST

<Chloe>

The ban on my parents is lifted! I did it!

<Drew>

I knew you would!

I’m ready for my Operative Certificate now

You’ve always been ready

Is there a Chicago branch?

Yep

They have to come here for a lot of their training since it’s smaller and there’s less demand, but it exists

Long pause. Both type and delete multiple unsent texts.

So is there actually an Operative Certificate?

No but I can have one for you the next time I see you

Well we better make that soon then, huh?

Yeah we better

Okay

Ok

I don’t want to take time away from your parents, especially your dad, but…

Is there actually a way I can see you before you leave?

(I couldn’t tell if that was banter earlier or real…)

Another long pause.

How about New Year’s Eve after my parents go to sleep? Around 9?

I’m going to have to figure some stuff out

As you know

But yeah

Let’s do it

It’s a date

Wear something you can dance in

Oh man

Do you have dance training?

This could be embarrassing for me…

A minute later:

Okay you definitely have dance training. I remember you saying you were open to dance classes on your application

Maybe we should do something else

I promise it’ll be fun

No judgment

One laugh out of you and you have to do one of my game theory problem sets

Actually you probably have training in that too

I promise you’re worrying about nothing

I’ll pick you up down the street at that park at 9:10, silly

Okay but be prepared because I have access to YouTube, which was teaching randos to do things before Rent for Your ’Rents existed

I’m shaking

Me too

My hips and shoulders

In preparation

How’d you guess my favorite moves?

Chloe CHAPTER 53 THE TALK

December 30–31

The next two days with my parents were… lighter. Not as light as dòuhuā—my mother’s favorite melt-on-your-tongue, silky, sweet tofu dessert—but maybe more like almond Jell-O? Secret-filled awkwardness still sliced through our interactions, but now there were a few actual laughs instead of forced ones. We also broke out the mahjong set—and at my mother’s suggestion, no less.

New Year’s Eve afternoon, my father was napping upstairs—which tugged at my heartstrings, but I made myself be “normal” about it—and I was on the couch sipping bitter tea, definitely not trying to get a whiff of Drew from the cushions or anything.

My mother sat down next to me, a steaming mug of not-bitter tea in her hands.