She stops walking abruptly, causing Olivia to almost collide into her. “I know, I know. It’s that you worry I may have another stroke or a heart attack while no one’s with me. How sweet of you.” Her sarcasm sucks the air out of the room.

Olivia bounces on the balls of her feet. “Don’t worry, he didn’t have to drag me. Nothing could keep me from you.”

Po Po’s hands clap together, appeased. “Oh, you know what we haven’t done in a while?” Considering she and I haven’t spent any real quality time together in years and Olivia hasn’t been around, the options are endless. “We haven’t made dumplings.”

I’m already shaking my head no before she even finishes her statement. I can’t do this with her. “No, Po Po. We’re not making dumplings tonight.”

“And just why not?” Her question is met with silence because I have no answer. Not one I can share without years of resentment flying out. Po Po studies me and sighs in defeat. “Alright, my little wolf. No dumplings. I’ll have that unseasoned chicken you insist I eat, but come fix something for my little tulip, okay?”

She turns to continue her walk into the kitchen when Olivia grabs her hand and walks with her. I take a minute to catch my breath before joining them.

I whip up some salmon, brown rice, and vegetables for all of us, and yes, I do put more seasoning on mine and Olivia’s than on Po Po’s but the woman has CHD for God’s sake. I won’t feel bad for adhering to the diet the doctor told us to follow.

I stay quiet the entire time I’m cooking, letting the two of them catch up on all the years they’ve missed. Focusing on the task at hand helps me to calm down my nerves.

Once it’s time to eat, I continue to let the two of them dominate the conversation. It’s bittersweet seeing them together again.

Once dinner is done and the dishwasher has been loaded, we hear keys jingling in the doorway. “I’m home!” Kylie calls out.

“Ya Tou, welcome home. I thought you’d be later.” Ya Tou. Po Po’s nickname for Kylie. Ever since I discovered Po Po’s truth I’ve gone over every interaction we’ve ever had with a fine-tooth comb. I can’t help but notice that my nickname was English while Kylie’s was Cantonese. Was that because Kylie looks more Asian than I do? Was I not worth a Cantonese nickname in her eyes?

I hate how one discovery sent everything I held dear into question.