TWENTY-EIGHT

Aw, come on, Venus. Please?” Lex tried to keep her cell phone on her shoulder as she struggled to strap her leg more firmly into her brace.

“No, I’m too busy at work. I already called Trish to come pick you up.”

“Trish? Since when is she my favorite person?” Lex stood and maneuvered past her boxes toward the bathroom.

“Jenn is out of town this weekend — rather conveniently, if you ask me. So it’s either Trish or Mariko.”

Ew. “Okay. When is she coming?”

“I caught her as she left home, so she should be there soon.” A murmuring in the background claimed Venus’s attention. “No, write an action item . . . No, not — Lex, I’ve gotta go.” Click.

The doorbell rang.

Trish had lost weight. Dark bags sagged under her bleary eyes, and her mouth drooped in a petulant frown. “Let’s go.”

Once in the car, Trish broke the silence first. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? We both have to survive Uncle’s birthday party, so let’s just ignore it for now.”

“Fine.” Lex’s teeth clicked together, but she uncrossed her arms.

“So . . . uh . . . How’s PT?”

That’s a loaded question. A few weeks ago, she would have told Trish all about getting the massage, conquering her fear, the triumphant feeling afterward, like . . . an Ultimate Fighting Champion. “It’s going well.” She couldn’t resist adding a little dig. “You know Aiden’s my therapist?”

Trish’s eyes ballooned. “Aiden’s your PT? How is he?”

“He’s really good. All my volleyball friends recommended him.”

Trish sniffed. “Has he bitten your head off about your Christian-ity yet?”

“Is that what he did with you?”

“He kept going on about it. Finally I told him I couldn’t work with him anymore because he wasn’t Christian. I didn’t like him harping on me.”

Harping didn’t sound like Aiden. And her current attitude about Trish didn’t put Lex in a mood to believe her cousin’s version of Aiden.

She kind of liked him, even though he didn’t really fit the List. But he fit one thing she hadn’t thought to add: Someone who doesn’t make me freak out when he touches me.

She wondered if it would go anywhere with him. If not, she wondered if he might be willing to pose as a boyfriend in front of Grandma. Except that would be kind of, well, lying.

They arrived at their uncle’s house, which already rang with childish screaming and collective male groaning — the Giants’ game? Probably.

Eat and leave. Here we go again.

Trish had to park a few blocks away because the earlier arrivals had taken up all the curb space. She grunted in frustration. “I hate walking. Especially in these shoes.”

She started off at a fast clip, then turned to give Lex an impatient look. “Any time this year.”

Lex stumbled after her. The doctor had cleared her off her crutches, but she wished she’d brought them so she could get in a good thwack to the upside of Trish’s head.

As soon as she walked in the door, an uncle’s beer-soaked breath reached her a millisecond before he grabbed at her. “Hey, Lexie, Trish.”

Lex snapped stiffer than an ironing board and shoved him away. Their harmless uncle became overly affectionate when supplied with Miller Genuine Draft.

“Where’s the food?” Trish headed down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen. Another cheer came from the living room —hmm, maybe they were watching the A’s game instead.

“I got you! I got you!”

Lex had only a half-second warning before two of her cousins’ children barreled around the corner of the hallway. They swished past Trish’s skirts and rammed straight into Lex’s brace.

Bonk! The little girl ricocheted off the metal frame and bounced on the wooden floor. The impact sent a sharp jolt through Lex’s knee joint.

“Ow!”

“Waaaaa!”

The child was louder.

The brat — er, kid’s mother hustled into the hallway. “Lex, what did you do?”

“What did I do?”

“You’re the one with bulletproof armor.” Her cousin picked up her battering-ram daughter. “Poor baby. Did the bad Robo-Lex hurt you?”

“Waaaaa!”

The little boy who had been chasing the girl eyed Lex’s steel-encased leg with a speculative grin.

Lex made a threatening move toward him.

He backed off.

Her cousin gasped. “Big bully.”

Lex rolled her eyes and stilted off after Trish’s disappearing skirt.

She found the food, scrambled around on the kitchen table. The kids had already mangled the fruit plate, but the sashimi — fresh raw tuna — fanned out in cool pink glory next to makizushi sushi rolls. Marinated mochiko chicken still steamed, crispy fresh from the deep fryer, and Grandma’s homemade pickled vegetables — takuwan and tsukemono — lay in small dishes next to it.

“Oooh, one of the aunties made shrimp tempura.” Trish piled hand-battered, deep-fried shrimp on a paper plate.

Lex grabbed a plate — this was the only reason to attend these things. Even Grandma muted her nagging when eating good Japanese food.

“Hey, Lex.” Richard’s jovial tone stiffened Lex’s shoulders and set her jaw.

Yup, she was right to be wary — he dragged a short, thin Asian guy behind him, whose gaze had leeched onto the food.

“Lex, meet my, uh . . . friend.”

Food Leech didn’t respond. Richard nudged him with an elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” Food Leech didn’t even glance up at her. “Can we start eating?”

To add to the Ephesians List: Common courtesy would be nice.

Lex stepped out of the way as Food Leech bulldozed through the musubi — both plain rice balls and the ones with fried Spam —the shoyu-braised hotdogs, the inarizushi looking like golden dumplings in their deep-fried bean curd pouches. Okay, Lex would like her future boyfriend to appreciate food, but not at the expense of proper manners.

“Richard, where do you get these guys?” Lex didn’t bother to drop her voice. Not that Food Leech even noticed.

Richard sputtered. “These are my friends — ”

“Yeah, right. These are your friends like your kitchen is the most-used room in your apartment.”

“Hey, I cook sometimes.”

“Once every third leap year. Why the sudden parade of Dating Game rejects?”

Richard’s “innocent” face never failed to incite suspicion. He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cut the act. What does Grandma have on you?”

Richard stuck his nose in the air and smoothed his mousse-laden hair. “Unlike you, I have an excellent relationship with our grandparent.”

Lex snorted.

“Very ladylike.”

“Lex, come meet Mrs. Inawara’s nephew.” Grandma entered the kitchen with a tall, pale Japanese boy in tow.

Trish nipped out of the kitchen faster than a dog with a steak. Food Leech must have sensed imminent conflict, because he tailed her out of the danger zone.

“Lex, this is Derek, my friend’s nephew.” Grandma hooked his arm and thrust him forward, a sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth smile on her face.

Lex gritted her teeth. She didn’t like his aunt very much, but no harm in meeting him. He might actually be nice —

As he approached, the smell assailed her. She gagged. Even Richard cleared his throat and stepped back. Grandma must be losing her sense of smell. The guy reeked.

“Fphaaugh! When was the last time you took a bath?” Lex held out an arm to keep El Stinko away.

“What are you talking about?” He took a whiff of his armpit.

Another odiferous wave crashed over her with his sudden movement. “Ugh. I’m going to lose my breakfast. Grandma, at least make sure they have good hygiene.”

An affronted gasp sounded from the doorway to the kitchen. Grandma’s friend — and El Stinko’s aunt — stood there, white and quivering. Lex wasn’t exactly upset, considering Aunty El Stinko always had something nasty to say about Lex’s unfeminine interest in sports.

“Come, Derek. We’re going home.” Aunty El Stinko pivoted and marched away.

El Stinko spun around and followed her, but his action sent a BO-saturated breeze at Lex. She grabbed her stomach. Richard coughed.

“What is wrong with you?” Grandma’s hiss carried louder than a shout.

“Uh . . .” Richard glanced from Grandma’s sparking glare to its victim, Lex. He took a giant step back and escaped the room. Coward.

“Grandma, will you stop siccing your friends’ sons at me? How many of them do you have, anyway?”

“What’s wrong with them? You don’t think far enough ahead, that’s your problem.”

“They’re only after me because you told them I could get them college game tickets. How is that thinking ahead?”

“That means they like sports, just like you. If you’d go out with them, you’d get to know them better.”

“I have yet to meet one who doesn’t set off my dweeb-meter.”

“You’re not open-minded enough.” Grandma’s cheeks started to flush under her makeup.

“How open-minded do I have to be?” Lex stabbed a finger at the empty doorway and the now-departed El Stinko.

“You’re so picky.” Grandma jerked her own finger at Lex’s chest.

“He has to be American, he has to be Christian — ”

“No, we’re not going into this again. His faith is important to me.”

“Why does he need to be Christian? Does it matter as long as he can provide for you and your children?”

Grandma had already jumped to progeny. “Yes, it does matter. It’s a deeply personal issue.”

Grandma started talking with her hands. “All the Christian boys are so boring. You’d never date any of them.”

What could Lex say to that? She had yet to meet a Christian boy who made her pulse rocket out of her wrist. But she wasn’t about to let Grandma know that. “I’m not budging on this. He has to be Christian.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” Lex could almost see the steam rising from Grandma’s permed and colored head.

I’m being unreasonable?” Lex flung her arms out.

She pursed her lips, and her eyes sparked black fire. “Grandma’s trying to help you.”

Great, Grandma was so upset, she was speaking in third person.

“My love life should be my business.”

“Fine.” Grandma turned smartly and marched to the doorway. “Good luck finding your exciting Christian boy.” She paused at the threshold with a dark Dracula expression aimed at Lex. “Grandma still means what she said. If you don’t have your Christian boyfriend by Mariko’s wedding, Grandma’s cutting funding to your girls’ team the very next day.”

“They’re only girls — ”

“And don’t try to fool Grandma. She’ll know if he’s a boyfriend or not.” She exited. The only thing missing was a melodramatic swirl of some dark cape.

Lex sagged against the kitchen counter. She crossed her arms tight to still the trembling of her hands. Why’d she let Grandma get to her? Now she couldn’t even ask Aiden — very vocally non-Christian Aiden — to pose as her boyfriend.

She supposed she shouldn’t have been thinking of him, anyway. If she started liking him, it would make things complicated. She knew their difference in faith — her belief and his lack of — would make any deeper relationship rocky at best. She had let his soap-fir-musk scent and magic hands cloud her judgment.

Back to the drawing board.

SUSHI for ONE?
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