18

ON SATURDAY, DISTRACTED BY YET ANOTHER MUTED RESPONSE FROMRoyce when I extended an invitation to game, I head with my mom to Toys for Days, a specialty toy store. It's the kind of toy store where they "rotate themes" and the lighting is gentle and pretty as moonbeams. The kind of place where motherhood is planned, celebrated, wanted.

The kind of place where you can't make a scene, and you're more likely to say yes to a free staycation in another state. The plan is to get her a present there from Rosie and me, and then surprise her with the staycation right after.

My mother glances at a display for organic bamboo cotton pajamas, picks up the paper tag on a ribbon-wrapped set, and visibly blanches, dropping the pajamas as though they burn. "Oh my God, what the heck are in these fibers?" she mutters. "Honey, we can't afford to shop here."

"Yes, we can, Mom," I say with a practiced air of unconcern. I'd saved up quite some money working at Seoul Hot, and since I don't have athletic gear and other sports-related expenditures this year, I want to treat her. I wave a gift card around. "It's too late for a refund, so you're just going to have to spend it." I've preloaded a month's worth of shifts on the card, whatever I hadn't spent on transport to comedy venues. "Anyway, it's from Rosie and me, so you can't say no."

"All right," she says, grinning. "Thank you both."

She winces as she makes her way down the aisle. Four months pregnant, my mother is bloated and already breathless, a combination of her genetics and the meds she's on for a variety of health reasons. Yet I haven't seen her this happy, even as she worries for me. She's radiant in spite of her pallor. I've been watching her like a hawk—her psychiatrist has changed up her prescription ever since she found out about the pregnancy—holding my breath and waiting for the cracks to appear, the signs of old distress, the vacant melancholy, the withdrawal, the crying, all of it, but thankfully, they haven't returned.

"Everything okay?" my mother asks, looking up from caressing a plush, velveteen fox with a vivid clay-red fur that a price tag reveals as costing even more than a live fox, surely.

I paste on a bright, happy expression. "I'm so good, Mom. Everything is perfect." I gesture at the fox. "Great choice for Sweet Pea." That's Stanley's placeholder nickname for the baby because my mom's too superstitious to use the name they've selected.

I've seen the cross-stich project she's made for her, though.

Yina. Yina Esther Morissette. A perfect new girl.

"Thanks, hon," she says, a tiny crease between her brows. She looks back down at the fox and picks her words. "You know, it's been a tough few months for you, since the accident."

"It's okay, Mom, I'm getting through it." I brace myself for what is coming next.

"So, lately, you've been running off with Zee and your friends"—I may have embellished this fact a little—"every other evening when you're not studying or working, which I want to emphasize I'm happy about, seeing that you're getting out of the house again...." She hesitates. "Can you—can you tell me what you guys do?"

"Sure, we play board games," I say, having already planned for this. Zee was apprised of my every stand-up set so she could corroborate my plans with her. "Very safe. Very stationary. Very…above-the-board." I smile, pleased at this last pun.

"I see." She observes me closely. "And who's with you at these game nights? Anyone I know?"

"The Flashes, of course," I say brightly. "You know, Suraya, Qiu Lan, Tavleen…them lot."

"I see." She strokes the fur of the fox. "With all these changes at school and at home, if something's…bothering you, you can always tell me. I'm here for you."

"Likewise," I say. "Anything at all that's affecting you, y'know, with the pregnancy and how you feel on your new meds, samesies. Tell me."

She flinches. She puts down the fox and says, "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Take care of me. Like you're the mom." The words come out jagged.

I feel something in me well up. Words that I'd not said to her, ever. If I don't watch you, who will? Stanley doesn't know you the way I do. He wasn't there.

"Agnes, I've been well for the longest time."

"Sure," I say. It can't be a coincidence that when I started excelling in sports around the age of eleven, when I started showing her that she didn't have to worry about me, that I wasn't a mistake that couldn't be redeemed, on top of me holding us together at home, running the household when she checked out, that she started pulling out of the darkness. It could have been the new psychiatrist she started seeing, of course, the new meds, even Stanley, who she met around then by chance—but I think it really was down to me. But now that I was just—just like any other kid, would she be disappointed? Would she still be all right?

Maybe this child is what's making it all okay, a little voice said. Maybe she's already moved on with her hopes and dreams, because now she can start over the way it should have been.

Maybe she's fine, even with everything that's happening because this time—this time, everything was done right. This time, this…this pregnancy is wanted.

I swallow a lump that appears in my throat and force down the tears that threaten to erupt. No. Stop it, I admonish myself. She loves me, she does. I know it.

I know it.

My mother leans over and hugs me close, surprising me, and says in my hair, "I'm glad you found your new thing, Agnes. I hope…playing board games brings you joy."

"It has," I say, and I don't even need to fake this emotion. "It's really allowed me to channel my competitive spirit in healthy ways and to meet new people."

We break apart.

"All right," she says. "Because I'm rooting for you in everything you do."

"I know, Mom." It's now or never; I launch my offensive. "By the way, you'd never guess what Zee—and I guess her family, too, by extension—and I got for you and Stanley: a staycation in Janda Baik!"

I hurriedly tell her the details, emphasizing that it's nonrefundable, especially when she starts protesting that it's too much. "Don't worry, it's really no big deal because it's low season for Janda Baik. Practically a ghost village."

"But that's the weekend after Christmas. That's, like, peak season, surely?"

"Yes, but it's, like, fruit bat season, and you know, snake mating season in the forest near Janda Baik, so her family's pretty much giving away the room for free. And it's really the least fancy of their properties. It's barely four-star, if even."

My mother stifles a smile. "Well, I guess Stanley and I have no choice but to go to this very average retreat. This is very generous of you and Zee. I'll have to thank her personally."

"You know how these rich kids are," I say. "They've got free stuff leaking out of them. But yes, do thank her when you see her, that's all she wants."

"I'm the luckiest mom in the whole world," she says, giving me a quick kiss.

She picks up a smaller version of the fox and makes her way to the cashier, but before she can get to the counter, I'm already there with the original one and paying for it with the gift card. Being there for my mom the way she's always needed me.

~

Me:Hey, is everything OK?

Royce:What do you mean?

Me:You're acting a little weird. Like you're avoiding me

Royce:I'm just figuring out some stuff. I'll explain when I'm ready

Me:OK, see you at comedy tomorrow? I see you're doing a 15-minute set at the special comedy night at Bar BiBi

Royce:Yeah…See you there

~

Zee:So how?

Me:It is done

Zee sends me a GIF of Mr. Burns rubbing his hands together and saying, "Excellent."

Me:Mwuahhhahhaahahhaha slay

Zee:

Zee:I worry for our future

Me:Me too