Double Happiness by Jen Trinh

Author:Jen Trinh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jen Trinh
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

A month goes by in a whir of work and planning. Nancy doesn’t talk to me much, even going so far as to cancel on me twice during our weekly walks because she was “busy.” The one time we do get together before the wedding, she goes on about the weather, our parents’ travel plans for the wedding, and day-of logistics. Bradley gets mentioned once.

“Hey, I don’t know if you were going to give us any gifts, but please, nothing fancy. We don’t need more stuff. You’ve already given me all the household gadgets I could possibly need.”

“Fine. I’ll give you guys a red envelope like every other person in our family.” I’ve got a pile of leftover ones from my own wedding, the special wedding red envelopes that have the double happiness symbol on them. I guess it’s meant to be a symbol of marriage—two happy individuals joined together to form one single, jumbo happy entity—but my experience of marriage was more like double trouble and half money.

“Thanks, but... If you want to do something more meaningful, I do have a suggestion.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not much of a cook, you know that. But, maybe you could give Bradley Grandma’s pickled mustard greens recipe?”

The mere mention of Grandma’s cooking unlocks my salivary glands, and Grandma’s pickled mustard greens? Delicious on their own, but in soup with chicken, pork, or fish, they will murder your ability to appreciate any other clear broth soup again. Together, they form the stocks from which memories are made. But that’s exactly why it’s Grandma’s secret recipe, and now, mine. We both understood that it should be protected.

“I don’t know. That feels disrespectful. It was Grandma’s recipe, and she gave it to me for a reason.”

“Because you were her favorite?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Grandma didn’t even try to make it a secret that I was her favorite child. She left me all of her vintage qipao and cookware and jade bracelets, too. All Nancy got was a pair of earrings, a backscratcher, and her Goochy house slippers. “But it was also Grandma’s special thing.” Our parents didn’t really know how to cook, so that piquant mix of flavors is associated with her and only her. To give Grandma’s recipe to someone else and risk that it might be diluted, misrepresented, or warped in some way—in other words, disrespected—no. Absolutely not on my watch.

Nancy lets out a close-mouthed sigh. “Okay, well, I just thought it’d be a fun way to say that he’s officially part of the family now. But if you feel that strongly, then don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.” We move on, but that icky, tar-like feeling lingers between us and we cut things short that day.

“I know I should let it go,” I tell Grandma’s photo the night before the big day. It’s the only photo of her as a young woman, black and white, hair permed, sitting in a cute dress. “It’s up to Nancy how she wants to live her life. But

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