Short Girls A Novel by Bich Minh Nguyen

Author:Bich Minh Nguyen [Nguyen, Bich Minh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: a cognizant original v5 release october 10 2010
Published: 2010-10-10T04:00:00+00:00

It was dark when Van woke up, surprised that she’d fallen asleep. In the kitchen Linny was mixing cha gio filling with her hands; they were shiny with the shrimp and pork, fish sauce and mung bean threads. Near her the portable television was broadcasting Forrest Gump. The fluorescent light overhead gave everything a greenish tinge, making the yellow countertops glow.

“Is Dad home yet?”

Linny made a little laughing sound. “What do you think?” With her head down, her hands in the plastic bowl, she looked so much like their mother that Van had to look away.

She opened the refrigerator door. “I’m hungry.”

“I got some sushi rolls from the deli at Meijer. Kind of gross but I knew I wouldn’t have time to make anything.”

You mean I got the sushi, Van stopped herself from saying. With Linny she was always the one who paid.

“Might be scary, but it’s probably better than frozen pizza,” Linny continued.

Van didn’t offer up that frozen pizza had become one of her mainstays. She pulled out the plastic trays of tuna and salmon rolls, bringing them to the table. How many times had she sat here, in the same chair? That same flowered plastic tablecloth—probably fused to the table by now. That same rooster-shaped napkin holder—empty. And that same knobby brass chandelier that Linny always said she wanted to replace. Years ago, their mother had enlisted Linny’s help to paint over the silver and orange wallpaper, and with every return home Van saw more and more glints of metallic peeking through. Miles had noticed too, of course; he hadn’t approved of painting over wallpaper but the vintage print interested him.

“Are you going to help me roll these?” Linny called out, referring to the cha gio.

“If you need me to.” The sushi rolls tasted flavorless to Van. She doused them with extra soy sauce and wasabi, watching Forrest Gump’s depressing New Year’s Eve with Lieutenant Dan. After a while she stored the rest of the rolls in the refrigerator and headed downstairs to her father’s studio.

The basement had been spruced up since she’d seen it last winter. Her father had added icicle Christmas lights around the ceiling to look like a lit-up wallpaper border. The TV area was home to a new standing lamp and potted plants, probably fresh for the party. The futon was made up into a sofa decorated with Linny’s dot-print throw pillows. A zebra-print rug covered the original shag carpet that was exactly the color of burnt sienna from Van and Linny’s shared Crayola box. Van knew she should feel glad for her father and these small signs of progress, but it pained her to see the buckets of new geraniums, the futon cover tucked in tight. The feeling wasn’t exactly new, but deepened, tinged with what haunted her: even more than the rest of the house, the basement belonged to someone who lived alone.

His studio, shielded by a curtain, revealed the side of her father Van knew better: disorganized, unfinished. A dismantled Luong

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