“Well, you should cut back on some of your volleyball so that you can take care of him. We’re all getting older.”

Lex was fully aware of the cultural and moral obligation to care for her parent in his old age, even if said parent insisted he didn’t want to be cared for. But why did people always think she needed to be reminded and that she needed to give up everything in her life to do it? She’d seen friends and relatives who gave up dreams to care for their family, and it was just sad, frustrating, and tiring for them.

Lex chose to ignore his comment. “Speaking of volleyball, my girls’ team will be traveling for playoffs over the summer, and I wondered if you’d be willing to sponsor us or donate to the traveling costs.”

“Oh…”

“In Mom’s memory, maybe?” Yeah, she’d get his sentimental side.

“I’m sure I could do something. Let me get back to you, is that okay?”

“Oh, yes! Thanks, Mr. Tomoyoshi.” In her mind’s eye, Grandma’s dragon claws receded into the milky mist…

“Should I plan to make the check out to your dad for you?”

“Uh… no, why?”

“Oh, well, so you don’t have to take care of the more complicated money stuff.”

That was the problem with growing up in the Japanese American community, where everyone knew Grandma and Lex’s family. The older people still tended to think of Lex as, say, eight years old. “I take care of all the team’s finances, Mr. Tomoyoshi. You can make the check out to the volleyball club.”

“Okay. I’ll call you in a few days about it.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Tomoyoshi.” Lex dropped the handset into the cradle. “Take that, Grandma!”

Trish yawned. “Yeah, yeah. So what about Kin-Mun?”

Lex held her hand out to her. “Pass the remote.”

Trish grabbed it and clasped it to her chest like the Holy Grail.

“No way. I want to actually have a conversation with you.”

“I can talk and watch TV at the same time.” Lex reached over and scrabbled at her clenched fingers.

Trish turned away. “Answer my question first.”

“What question?”

Trish gave her a Tell me you’re not that stupid look. “Kin-Mun?”

“Oh.” Lex folded her arms. “What about him?”

“It sounds like you bullied him into going out with you. You never consider other people’s feelings.”

“Do too. I just know what’s best for them.”

“So Kin-Mun reluctantly going on a date with you is what’s best for him? Or for you?”

“Both. Now gimme the remote.”

Trish jerked it out of Lex’s reach and sat on it. “You’re not even a little concerned?”

Well, it wasn’t very flattering to learn he thought of her like a broth – sister, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Trish. “He’s just never thought of me that way. Besides, I have a plan.”

“Another one?”

Lex playfully smacked Trish upside the head. “This is a good one.

You’re going to take me shopping.”

Mention of her favorite – and only – sport made Trish sit up straighter. The TV blinked on, then off.

“Gimme the remote. You’re going to break it.”

“Tell me why you’re actually volunteering to go shopping.”

“I need you to help me wow Kin-Mun.”

“Do you mean a makeover?” Trish’s mouth dropped to her lap.

“You’re drooling.”

“Am not.” Trish swiped at the corner of her mouth. “You must be desperate to agree to a makeover.”

“I’m not desperate. I’m being practical. He’s never seen me in anything other than casual clothes. He needs to see me as sexy and attractive.” Non-sister-like.

“Is it really going to work?” Trish’s face oozed skepticism.

“Gee, thanks for letting me know I’m such a hopeless case.”

“If he isn’t already attracted by your personality, how is a new skin going to do it?”

“You of all people know how visual guys are. I mean, what did my brother look at while we watched SportsCenter? The Axe commercials with all those half-naked girls shaking bootay.”

Trish’s mouth formed a giant O. “You’re not going to go half-naked -?”

“What? No. It’s not like I’d have anything to shake.” Lex smacked her nonexistent butt. Her athletic but sadly flat body in a bikini would send Kin-Mun screaming for the funny farm.

“So…” Trish scrutinized Lex’s body with that “fix-it” look she usually wore when working on a new biology experiment at work.

Yup, Lex had her hooked.

“Can you do it?”

“If I can’t, no one can.”

Trish with a license to shop was a frightening sight.

Trish with a license to shop for someone else was like Godzilla ripping apart Tokyo.

Lex drank in the smell of roasted coffee as they entered Tran’s Nuclear Coffee Shop, but it failed to stimulate her tired muscles. The shop was empty for a Tuesday early evening. She sank into a cold metal chair and propped her elbows on the glass tabletop. “Get me a soy latte. Double shot.”

Trish dug in her purse for her wallet. “Going hard-core today, eh?”

“I’m going to need a week to recover.”

“You don’t have a week, you have three days. But that’s okay, because you’ll floor him in that dress even if you look like Frankenstein’s bride.”

“You’re just a fount of encouragement.”

“I try.” Trish tossed a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she flounced to the counter to order their drinks.

Lex rubbed her side and lower back where the pins had stuck her earlier. She’d never before tried on clothes that had pins in them.

Shouldn’t duds with that many numbers on the price tag have the pins already removed? And even her finely tuned balance couldn’t teeter on those stiletto heels for more than a millisecond. Hundreds of dollars for the privilege of twisting her ankle.

This better be worth it. She had created a monster. The only thing Trish would love more would be if she could spend someone else’s money on herself.

“Here you go, Lex – ”

“Eeeek!”

She’d know that squeal anywhere.

Paper cups don’t make much noise when they splatter double-shot soy latte all over the tile floor. But Mimi’s piercing voice made up for the lack of shattering glass.

“Did you have to spill my coffee?” Lex eyed the brown soy lake with sorrow.

Trish wasn’t paying attention. Her basilisk glare tried to turn Mimi into stone. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting coffee. Duh.” Mimi swung her long ponytail in a sulky arc.

“You bumped into me on purpose.”

“As if. You ran into me when you turned.”

“Lying little pipsqueak.”

“That the best you got? Bring it on, sister.” Mimi did a head-wagging thing, making her ponytail tick like a rapid metronome.

Time to intercede. “Can you not have women’s mud wrestling in the middle of Tran’s?”

Trish opened her mouth, but Lex thrust a palm in her face. “You. Quiet. You.” She shoved a finger between Mimi’s eyes. “Buy me another latte.”

Mimi’s eyes sparked black fire.

“Or I can loose Trish on you. You’ve got a disadvantage with that ponytail.”

Mimi’s pink cupid-bow mouth disappeared, but she whirled and stomped toward the counter. Lex followed.

“Double-shot soy latte.” Lex leaned against the counter and looked around while Mimi ordered her own drink. A coffee shop employee came out front to clean up the mess.

By the window, an Indian couple chatted away, and in the corner, a guy ducked under his table. He must have dropped something. Back at their table, Trish looked hot enough to steam milk with her finger.

Standing next to Mimi, even leaning against the counter, Lex felt gargantuan at five-foot-seven.

Mimi fingered the Tiffany heart pendant at her throat – a gift from one of her numerous boyfriends, probably – and slid it back and forth on the chain. “Been working out, Lex?”

She asked the question with a little too much innocence. Despite her honeyed voice, the question had peeved undertones. Most likely at forking out four dollars for Lex’s latte, straining Mimi’s college-student budget. “No.”