“Thank you, Big Aunt,” I say dutifully, placing a fat har gow on her plate. I always reply in English no matter which language my family is speaking because Second Aunt says listening to me struggle through Indonesian or Mandarin makes her blood pressure rise. “You eat more too. We’re all counting on you tomorrow. And you, Second Aunt.” The second-biggest har gow goes on Second Aunt’s plate. Third biggest goes to Fourth Aunt, and the last remaining one goes on Ma’s plate. That shows that Ma has brought me up well, to look out for others before ourselves.
Big Aunt waves off my platitudes with a heavily jeweled hand. “We are all counting on each other.” Heads of big coiffed hair nod. Fourth Aunt has the biggest hair, something that Ma is always complaining to me about in private.
“Always such an attention hole,” Ma said once, which was equal parts horrifying and hilarious. I asked her where she heard “attention hole,” and she claimed that she heard it from our neighbor Auntie Liying, which is such a lie, but I’ve had twenty-six years of living with Ma and I know better than to argue with her. I simply told her it’s “attention ho,” not “hole,” and she nodded and muttered “ho, like ho ho ho” before going back to chopping scallions.
“Okay,” Big Aunt says, clapping once. Everyone sits up straighter. Big Aunt is older than Second Aunt by ten years, and she basically raised her sisters while Nainai went to work. “Hair and makeup?”
Second Aunt nods, bringing out her phone and putting on her glasses. She uses her index finger to tap on it, muttering, “Apa ya, the name of that app—Meddy make me use for hairstyle. Pin-something.”
“Pinterest,” I pipe up. “I can help you find it—”
Big Aunt shoots me a stern look, and I wilt. “No, Meddy. You mustn’t help. If Second Aunt can’t find the app tomorrow when she’s with the bride, we will lose face for sure. We’re supposed to be professionals,” she says. Or at least I think that’s what she says. She’s speaking so fast I find it hard to follow, but I definitely caught the Mandarin words for “lose face”—a favorite phrase of hers.
Second Aunt’s mouth purses, and her left cheek twitches a little. Just as Fourth Aunt irritates the crap out of Ma, Second Aunt and Big Aunt have a lot of friction between them. Don’t ask me why; maybe it has to do with being the two oldest. Maybe it’s something in their complicated pasts. There’s been a lot of drama with my mom’s family, especially back in Jakarta. I’ve heard bits and pieces over the years, mostly from Ma.
“Ha!” Second Aunt crows, brandishing Pinterest on her phone as if it’s a sword she’s just managed to pull out of a stone. “I got it. This is the style that the bride chose. I practiced on Meddy’s hair and it looked wonderful.” She turns to me and switches to English. “Meddy, you got photo I take of your hair?”
“I do,” I say, quickly taking out my phone. I call up the picture and Second Aunt holds it side by side with her phone, showing off the two pictures to everyone.
“Wah,” Ma says. “It’s so similar to the model’s! Very good, Er Jie.”
Second Aunt gives her a warm smile.
Fourth Aunt nods and replies in English, “Yes, they’re nearly identical. How impressive.” Her English is the best of all of theirs, yet another thing Ma will never forgive her for, even though Ma’s English is better than her older sisters’。 Ma insists that Fourth Aunt has a penchant for using big words （i.e., anything with more than two syllables） just to needle Ma. I think Ma might have a point there, but it’s just one of the many truths we will never know.
“The curl not show up well with Asian hair,” Big Aunt says. The fact that she’s speaking English means she’s half-directing the admonishment at me. My insides writhe with guilt, even though this is very definitely not my fault. “Why you choose blonde hairstyle?”
Second Aunt glowers. “I didn’t choose. The bride choose. Customer always right, remember?” She stabs her har gow and bites it angrily.
“Hmm.” Big Aunt sighs. “Should have tell her it look different on Asian hair than on blonde hair. But,” she adds, when Second Aunt looks about ready to burst, “never mind. Too late now. Moving in—”
“On,” Fourth Aunt says.
“Eh?” Big Aunt says.
“On. It’s moving on, not moving in. Moving in is what you do when you move houses.”