Chapter Twenty-Eight: Linh

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT LINH

The next morning, my alarm clock doesn’t wake me. No, it’s someone tickling me awake, pulling me out of pleasant dreams. I was stuck in a painting of my own, but I was happy. I could paint with my hands, no brush needed, and everything I touched took on color. I walked into a little cabin at the end of a long rainbow road, and opened the door, and I think it might have been Bảo standing with his back to me. I reached out to tap his shoulder, but a pair of hands got me from behind—

I jerk out of bed and flip the light switch on.

Evie.

“What are you doing here so early?” I exclaim, launching myself at her as she catches me, laughing. She smells like a brand-new car.

Ba was supposed to leave in an hour to drive her here. “I rented a car to drive in myself. Didn’t think Ba needed to be up this early,” she says. That explains the smell. “But here you are, sleeping in. How lazy.”

I glance at the alarm clock. Seven in the morning. “Hardly.” I push back my hair, mussed from sleep, and focus on her. She’s wearing her UC Davis sweatshirt again, the hood covering her hair. Her eyes are alive, probably hyped from the coffee she must have guzzled down during the long trip. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I couldn’t leave you three to fend for yourselves.”

I hug her again, the strength of it surprising me and her. But she doesn’t say anything else.

I’d been so mad for the past few weeks, busy with the Gold Key submissions, my feelings for Bảo—just having so many thoughts weigh me down. I know it was selfish. I know I could have handled it all better. If Evie were in my place, she would have handled it differently for sure.

But now that I was honest with Bảo, that’s one thing off my chest. As for the other things?

“Ouch, Linh. You’re hugging me way too tightly!”

It’s rare for me to wake up before my parents, but it’s all worth it, watching Evie tiptoe into their bedroom down the hall, leaning down close and blowing air into Ba’s left ear. He lets out a snort, lurches over. His arm swings up until he realizes who’s right beside him. “Con!”

“Gì?”Mẹ says blearily. Then she’s instantly awake.

Mẹ playfully slaps my sister’s arm, scolding her for driving all night and not letting any of us know. What could have happened on the road? And she was alone! But her wide smile undercuts her rebuke; she’s happy to see Evie here. I’m reminded of past Sundays when my sister and I would sneak into their bed, crawling like toddlers until we could sandwich Mẹ and nearly knock Ba off his side. We’re older now, all grown up.

We could still knock Ba over, if we really wanted to.

---

After showering, I walk down to the kitchen. Mẹ makes a feast for breakfast like she’s preparing soldiers for battle: cooking eggs ốp la, cà phê sữa đá, and some leftover bánh ướt from the restaurant. They’re talking about Bảo’s restaurant, especially their plans for later tonight.

“Bánh Xèo Day,” Ba remarks. “Why didn’t we ever think of that?”

“Making bánh xèo was never my strong suit,” Mẹ says.

“Maybe you should practice,” Ba replies.

“Maybe you should,” she retorts, before turning her attention to the sauté pan, where another serving of over easy eggs is ready to be flipped. Evie and I grin at each other.

I look down, realizing that my mom had set before me a bowl of cháo gà, warm rice porridge with chicken meat, freshly chopped parsley, and a few turns of ground pepper. My mom must have made it late last night at some point. A rush of warmth washes over me, and I haven’t even taken a bite.

She settles into her seat to my left. Ba’s at my right, and Evie’s across from me. The seating that we’d had as we shared countless dinners. “Let’s hope today goes off as well as last time,” Mẹ says.

I thread my fingers through hers. I hope so too, but I also would hate that to mean that Bảo’s family somehow fails, and maybe that makes me a traitor. I brush aside the thought, focusing on my mom and the rest of my family.

“We’ll be fine.”