He looked at me, hesitant, and I jumped in. “He wishes he could, but he can’t. His parents expect him to be home, especially since he spent Thanksgiving here—”

“Andrew, we insist,” my mother said, glaring at me.

“Uh…” Andrew looked from my mother to me.

“Jing-Jing, a word?” my mother said, ticking her head toward the bathroom.

Unngghhhh. I reluctantly followed her, glancing at Andrew one last time to try to read his face, which seemed to say, Sorry, wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. (At least it didn’t say, $$$!)

My mother rudely closed the door behind us. “Jing-Jing, you have to bring him back for Christmas. I can’t decide what I think of him after just three days!”

“You decided with Hongbo in like a minute.”

She slapped the air. “I did not! We’ve known him and his family for decades! You haven’t even introduced me to Andrew’s parents yet—how can I know if he’s good or not without knowing where he comes from?”

Did Rent for Your ’Rents also provide fake in-laws? Damn, this hole was starting to feel deep. And I was getting pretty tired from digging.

“Men can only pretend for so long,” my mother continued. “You need more time with him to see his true character. You’ve barely been together; the minimum is two years, Jing-Jing! Two years before a man can stop acting and show you what’s beneath.” Oh man, so much irony there. “But we don’t have that kind of time with Hongbo’s proposal hanging over us!”

“Mǎmá, I’ve met his parents. Don’t you trust me? And he already told his family he’d be there for Christmas—it was part of the reason why they didn’t object when he came here this weekend! You have to respect their—”

“Either Andrew comes or Hongbo comes.”

I couldn’t stand her sometimes. Oftentimes. “Well, maybe I’ll just go spend Christmas with Andrew’s family.”

Her eyes flared. “Don’t threaten me. And don’t miss time with us for something as petty as this. We’re getting old, Jing-Jing, especially your father.” Her tone dipped with the last three words, so subtle no one else would notice, but I was hyperattuned to her.

I thought of what my father had said to Andrew, the cupping, even the change in his financial plan from Mutual funds are the only safe bet to investing in No One Systems for the first time. A large chunk of our savings, he’d said to Hongbo.

“Is Bǎbá sick?” I asked.

The shock in my mother’s eyes seemed to be less from the idea and more from the fact that I was asking. But it quickly shifted and she tsked. “He’s just old. If you were more xiàoshùn toward me and Bǎbá, you wouldn’t ask me something like that.”