When Ma was alive, I used to breathe in her scent. On the surface was the oil and sweat of the restaurant, but underneath that was her smell, cool and lemony. I still floated in that bubble of loving her with everything that I was. I had Pa but I loved him in a different way. After Ma’s death, everything had changed. It was afterward that I truly hated school and my classes became so difficult. The other kids ignored me, the teachers found me to be a silent problem, sullen and unresponsive at the back of their rooms. I’d had Winston, Zan and another friend, Mo Li, but then Winston had left me as well. I couldn’t do chitchat with a big crowd of girls like Grace could. I was tactless, too honest, hopeless at pretending, and I was also miserable. I just did my best to hide away in my baggy clothing, and Pa had no idea how to guide me to become a woman either, which was just fine with me. There’d been a few boys in high school who’d liked me anyway but none of them turned into anything serious, especially since I had to hide the relationship at home.

And now here we were. I obeyed Pa and put on a shapeless top that covered my neck, and a thick pair of pants. I gritted my teeth and took off the lipstick as well. Pa nodded in approval when I came out. Lisa made a face at me behind his back and we wrinkled our noses at each other.

Then, at the last minute, just as we were supposed to leave, Lisa said, “I’m not feeling so well. Maybe I should just stay home.” She was hardly ever sick. And we so rarely got to eat at a restaurant, I knew she must really feel lousy to decide to miss it. I went over to her and smoothed out her hair. Her forehead felt sticky underneath my hand.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m not hungry,” she whispered, “and I see Aunt and Uncle every day anyway.”

I said, “Maybe she’s tired since school’s just started again.”

Pa shook his head. “You have to come, Lisa, we cannot disgrace ourselves this way. This is an important day for Aunt and Uncle and they have reserved a table at the restaurant. We are their only family. We cannot let them down. I promise we won’t stay too long.”

But we both knew we would. Pa always forgot his promises once he was with Uncle Henry and they were chatting and laughing about old times.

—

I was surprised to find Dennis seated next to Uncle Henry at the restaurant. Uncle even had an arm slung around the back of Dennis’s chair, laughing at something he’d said, while Aunt Monica beamed. It was unusual for an assistant to be invited to a family event, but I understood. Dennis was becoming the son Uncle and Aunt had never had.

I sat between Dennis and Lisa, and when we were choosing what to order, I said, “How about Peking duck?” I knew that was Lisa’s favorite dish.

The older people gave me disapproving looks. “Charlie,” Pa said. “We never have duck for a birthday celebration.”

Of course. Duck eggs were used in funeral rites and thus duck was bad luck at other times. For a birthday, the “three lives” were acceptable: chicken, pork and fish. Noodles were always necessary too, to represent longevity of life. They ordered pork in black bean sauce, noodles, a soy sauce chicken complete with head and claws to symbolize wholeness, a tofu dish and a whole steamed carp. Although Pa loved fish with bitter melon, nothing bitter was permitted on a birthday, lest the taste bring bad luck in the year to come. Pa, Aunt and Uncle started to drone on about their times in China and the people they’d known then. I felt overwhelmed with shyness next to Dennis. Even though Lisa and he worked together, they didn’t speak either.

Finally he said to me, “So are you still in school?”

“No.” There was an awkward pause. I didn’t want to discuss my dishwashing job or the studio. I made an effort. “You did your degree in pharmacology?”

He brightened. “Yes. I’ll probably go back to school for my master’s in a few years but I wanted to explore my options before I did. So much of eastern medicine is uncharted territory.”

At that moment, the inevitable noodle dish arrived. Uncle took a bite and said to Pa, “Ah, these are good but nothing compared to yours.”

Pa roared his great laugh. “You put the tall hat of flattery on my head. I am an illiterate man, you are the one of learning. Older brother, you are doing so well. Are you ever going to expand your office?”

“This is my home. No, I don’t want to leave Chinatown. These are my people. I live for them.” I could tell he meant it.

Dennis smiled. “Your dedication is admirable, Mr. Wong.”

Uncle Henry patted Dennis on the arm and spoke to Pa. “This young man can practically run my office without me already. He has already taken over some of the more standard cases, which frees me to visit patients at their homes.”

“Here, eat more,” Aunt Monica said, heaping my plate with a pile of mushrooms, which I didn’t like. But since mushrooms brought good luck, I would be in trouble if I didn’t eat them on Uncle Henry’s birthday. I started chewing my way through the pile. She eyed me. “You don’t look very well.”

I was embarrassed she’d said that in front of Dennis, who was politely pretending not to listen. “What do you mean?” This was so unfair. Pa had made me take off my makeup and now I was going to get crap because I didn’t look pink enough.

“You are skinny and anemic,” she said.

“Maybe I have something for you,” Uncle Henry said.

“Oh no. No,” I said. I knew what this would mean: a gift from his office. I’d already consumed enough strange animals boiled in bitter herbs. “I’ve just started a new job. That’s the only reason I am more tired than usual. It will get easier soon.”

Pa said with pride, “She is working in an office.”

“Really?” Uncle made an impressed face. “Going up in the world, eh? What are you doing?”

I took a deep breath. “Data entry. Some telephone work. In Midtown.”

“Oh, good, good.” Uncle dug out the eyeball of the fish and put it in Pa’s bowl. “What a delicacy, eh? Take more, brother. But especially if you are starting something new, you need more energy. In fact, both of your girls look a bit pale.”

Lisa was resting her chin on her hands, as if she was exhausted.

Uncle said, “I have a fresh shipment of Tibetan caterpillars.”

“No!” I said.

Aunt Monica glowered at me. “Silly girl, those caterpillars sell by weight for twice the price of gold. They can cure infection, inflammation, fatigue, phlegm. Even cancer!”

“Really?” Pa’s eyes widened.

I nudged Lisa underneath the table for help, knowing that we would be force-fed the valuable caterpillars if we didn’t stop this now. I didn’t care whether they worked or not, I still didn’t want to eat any worms.

Lisa raised her head and said, “I feel just fine.”

“Harvested by nomads,” Uncle Henry said. “The caterpillars only live in the grasslands above ten thousand feet and are infected by a parasite, a type of fungus. The fungus kills the caterpillar, then feeds on its body. That is why they are so powerful.” Uncle waved his chopsticks at Pa for emphasis. “I will give you a few. Boil them with ginseng until the soup condenses to the size of one rice bowl. It’ll be nice and concentrated.”

Lisa and I exchanged a look. We were sunk.

“Amazing,” Dennis said.

“Why don’t you take them?” I said.

Pa gave me a quelling look. “We cannot possibly accept them for free, brother. No, you must eat too. We will pay full price.”

“Ridiculous, you are my own family. A token amount is enough, one dollar per caterpillar.”

“That is insane. We must give you at least ninety percent, how else will you survive? You will go out of business like this.”

This reverse haggling went on for a while, with Pa fighting to chip in more and Uncle arguing for him to pay less, until they arrived at what they both secretly felt was the right price for a family member, about sixty percent of the retail price. Lisa and I were used to this. At the end of the meal, there would be a similar fight over the check, with everyone struggling to pay until the person who was actually supposed to get the check won. In this case, it would be Uncle who paid since he had invited us. It all seemed senseless to me but it had to do with honor. Even though Uncle’s medicines were so expensive, half of Chinatown credited him with saving their lives.