“I was a lot younger than you when I got my first knife lesson, tiger,” he says.

  Ana fumbles with the cleaver. “Right, like Mozart. ‘All the Shens learn to cook from birth,’ you told me.”

  Her father grins. Nai Nai shakes her head. “Tell the truth, Daniel. A lie will make the food taste bad.”

  He winces. “Okay, Ma. But some of this I don't think you know.”

  Nai Nai stops chopping. “You are my son, Daniel. I know everything.”

  “Did you know I stole Dad's army sword?”

  Nai Nai hesitates a moment too long. “Of course.”

  Ana laughs. “My poor dumplings. Doomed before they're even made.”

  Nai Nai bumps Ana with her shoulder. “I am an old woman. Sometimes I forget. Daniel, tell us again, so I can punish you properly.”

  “I must have been about five years old when I found it under your bed.”

  “Daniel! What were you doing down there? So dirty and dusty like that.”

  “Not in your house, Ma. It was clean as a hospital. I was just playing around and my feet hit something, so I turned around and found this box lying there almost as long as I was tall. Well, Dad was downstairs reading a book, and Ma, you were getting ready to make dinner. So I shut the door and pulled the box out.

  “Now, Ana, I was a pretty quiet kid.”

  Nai Nai shrugs. “Not always, but yes.”

  “But I was terrified of being found out. It was clear Ma knew about the box—she spent more time cleaning the house than I did getting it dirty again. And I always thought we were weird because we didn't have dust bunnies like the other kids' houses did.

  “So I dragged the box to the closet, that big walk-in thing you guys had at the old house, and I hid behind your clothes so you wouldn't see me if you came upstairs. I remember the box was covered in old green cloth that smelled like old books.

  “So I open it, and inside is the giant sword. At least, it looked huge to me at the time. And it was all shiny and new looking, because Ye Ye polished it every month, he told me later. It was as long as my leg, and the handle of the sword was bronze. The face of the hilt was rough, covered in some kind of bumpy leather. Turns out that was stingray skin.

  “So there I was, feeling like I was King Arthur or something.” Ana's dad puts down his cleaver and wipes his hands on a kitchen towel.

  “So I picked up the sword, climbed onto my parents' bed and swung it up over my head with both hands.” He mimics the movement, heaving his arms over his head. Ana giggles. She can just see him, younger than Sammy, legs spread wide for balance, swinging a giant sword.

  “And I took a big chunk out of the ceiling. I mean a big chunk. Cottage cheese and plaster all over the place. It scared the life out of me. I couldn't get the sword back in the box fast enough.”

  Nai Nai gasps. Ana bursts out laughing.

  “You put it back all dusty and everything?” Ana asks.

  Her dad nods. “I didn't care. I could hear my dad running up the stairs. I'm trying to sweep the plaster off the bed when he comes charging in. ‘Zhen me gao de?’ You know? ‘What the hell are you doing, Daniel?’ ”

  Ana gasps, she's laughing so hard. “I can't even picture Ye Ye raising his voice. He must've been really pissed.”

  Ana's dad nods. Nai Nai shakes her head and busies herself covering the bowl of minced pork with plastic wrap.

  Ana's dad leans back against the counter, eyes bright with the memory. “Anyway, he sees the box sticking out from under the bed and the gouge in the ceiling and puts it together.

  “I'm still on the bed and I'm crying because, you're right, he's never yelled at me like that before. So I think I'm going to get a spanking or something terrible is going to happen and he sits down on the bed and opens the box. He pats the bed for me to join him and I sit there, all snot-nosed and blubbery, as he examines the blade for nicks.

  “And all he says to me is ‘There is a proper way to treat a blade,’ and shows me how to polish it.

  “And when he's done, he looks up at the ceiling, smiles and says, ‘Huh. Still sharp.’ Not a single ding.

  “So I start asking questions and he explained why the sword was so important, how he earned it as an officer in the Taiwanese Army in World War Two and he wore it in a big parade.

  “I couldn't understand why he didn't show it off to everyone, but he said, ‘That time is past, Daniel. I would rather think of the future, not the past.’

  “Then he slides the box under the bed again. He knows I won't mess with it a second time. And he says, ‘Speaking of the future, it's time you learn something about knives. We can help your mother with supper.’ And that's the day I had my first knife lesson.”

  Nai Nai wipes the last of the lion's head filling from her fingers, the perfectly shaped meatballs lined up in a glass dish in front of her. She turns to face Ana's dad. “Your father.” She shakes her head.

  “Really, Ma? You didn't know?” Ana's dad asks.

  “I wondered, what's all this interest in cooking all of a sudden? But it didn't last. You helped me with two, three dinners, then I had to chase you down to get the same help.”

  “But wasn't there a big crack in the ceiling?” Ana asks. Ye Ye must have been an old softy back then, Ana thinks. He'd never let her get away with something like that.

  Nai Nai shrugs and washes her hands. “We live in California. I thought it was from earthquakes.”

  Ana laughs. The lion's head is on the stove. The dumpling dough is resting. Her shoulders relax. She smiles. “This is kind of nice.”

  Her dad nods. “See, honey? We can be civilized sometimes. Right, Ma?”

  Nai Nai nods. “I always say we should spend more time together.” She dries her hands on a kitchen towel.

  “Now, enough of this, it's time to cook. Ana, your filling is in the refrigerator. Your dough needs to rest. You can go back to the car. I forgot the rice.”

  “Okay.” Ana washes her hands and takes off her apron.

  “And get Mrs. White. It's time to start the gumbo.”

  “Okay.” Ana starts to push open the door.

  “Wait. No. I'll get the rice. You get Mrs. White. And where are you going, mister?” Nai Nai asks Ana's dad.

  He pauses, head halfway out the back door. “I've got to set up the tables out back.”

  Nai Nai points a manicured finger at him. “Okay, but do not forget, you have the lu bo gao to do. I will not forget.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Ana's dad says with a sharp salute. He nods at Ana. “Miss Mississippi River Cruise,” he says.

  Ana smiles. “That's Miz Mississippi River Cruise to you, mister.”

  Her dad winks and slips out the door.

  Nai Nai is going furiously through her purse. “Ana, we made a little mistake earlier with the huen bao.”

  “What?” Ana pats her back pocket. The small envelope is still there.

  Her grandmother smiles, a weird, embarrassed little smile. Ana raises an eyebrow. “A simple mistake, really,” Nai Nai says. “Ye Ye did not put everything inside like I asked.” She closes her purse and thrusts a wad of tightly folded money into Ana's hand.

  “It's nothing. Not a big-time river cruise. Just a little token. But we want you to have it.” She pats Ana's cheek. “We are so very proud.”

  Ana blushes. Note to self, she thinks, no more talking about the riverboat cruise. “Thanks, Nai Nai. It's really wonderful of you.”

  “Okay, silly girl, no time for sentimentality.” Nai Nai waves away Ana's attempt at a hug. “We have dinner to make. I'll get the rice.”

  Ana takes a deep breath. “And I'll get the people.”

  9

  “Ma, Grandma, the kitchen's yours,” Ana calls, walking down the hallway. The house is as calm as she feels. Maybe the fourth time making a family dinner really is the charm. She checks the living room. Ye Ye is dozing in front of the television.

  “Ye Ye, have you seen Ma and Grandma?”

  He startles at her voice and shakes his head.

  “Thanks.” Great. Dinner is in a little more than two hours, and all the cooks have deserted. She runs upstairs and stuffs the huen bao into her nightstand drawer. She'll give it to her parents later, and they'll put it in her college savings account, no doubt.

  She runs downstairs again and checks the backyard. The Shens' yard is a big empty space, towered over by two sycamore trees that drop their hard, bristly seedpods down on the family every summer. Ana and the Samoan used to take turns throwing them at each other, a Southern California version of a snowball fight.

  The folding chairs for tonight's dinner are leaning up against the fence that borders the street. Sammy and her dad are struggling to set up the tables.

  “Hey, sport,” her dad says.

  “Have you guys seen Mom or Grandma White?”

  They shake their heads.

  At the back of the yard, the garage door is open. Ana can hear the fryer going full speed. What she wouldn't do for a piece of chicken!

  “Grandpa, are Mom and Grandma with you?” she shouts.

  “Nope,” he calls back.

  “Chicken ready?”

  “Great art takes time, grasshopper. You should've had that sandwich like your father asked.”

  “I didn't think I was hungry until I smelled the chicken,” Ana says.

  “Well, then, I'll be sure to let you all know when it's done.”

  “ ‘Kay. Thanks.” Ana goes back inside.

  “Ma? Grandma?” she calls.

  Nai Nai is coming down the front hallway in a funny little crouch, a huge plastic bag of rice in her arms. “This stupid bag,” she says to Ana. “This is not my rice. And why is it plastic, anyway? This sharp rice pokes right through.” She waddles toward Ana and the kitchen door. “Don't stand there, get the door—” Before she finishes the sentence, the kitchen door flies open and Grandma White strides out, holding a bag of jasmine rice between two fingers.

  “Helen, baby, this ain't my rice.”

  Bam!

  Ana winces. If one grandmother leaves station A traveling at five miles per hour, and a second grandmother leaves station B traveling at seven miles per hour, who blames whom for the collision?

  “Aiyo!” Nai Nai screams.

  “Lord have mercy!” Grandma White shouts.

  “Oh, crap,” Ana says out loud.

  The hallway turns into a shaken snow globe, white grains of rice flying though the air and showering down over everyone.

  “My head!” shouts Nai Nai, clutching her right eyebrow.

  “Mm, mm, mm.” Grandma White shakes her head and gives her chin a rub. “I think I fractured a denture.”

  Ana runs toward them. “Are you okay?” She grabs their hands.

  “No, we are not okay. But you are okay. You are plenty okay. Go get me some ice,” Nai Nai shouts, waving Ana away.

  Ana gives up and turns to her other grandmother.

  “Get me some ice too, honey. I swear this woman's trying to kill me.”

  “How can I kill you? You are like a big ox compared to me.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Nothing. I said you are like a big ox. Like. It's a smilie.”

  Ana tries not to laugh. A smilie? Really? She rushes into the kitchen, taking the time to prop the swinging door wide open. She scoops two handfuls of ice cubes into a couple of kitchen towels and takes them to her grandmothers, who have both found their way to the kitchen table.

  “Are you guys okay? Can I get you anything?” Ana hates herself for wanting to laugh, because it really must have hurt. But the vision of her two locomotive grandmas colliding keeps replaying itself in her mind like an award-winning funny home video. She stifles a laugh.

  The kitchen door swings open and Ye Ye enters at a slow and steady shuffle. Ana looks up to see him straddling the spilled rice in the open doorway. “What happened?”

  Ana blushes involuntarily. It's not like it's her fault, but if it actually got Ye Ye's attention, it feels like a bad thing.

  “Just a little accident,” she says.

  “No accident,” Nai Nai complains. Suddenly, she waves her towel of ice in the air. “Sabotage. Yuan, they spilled my rice everywhere and tried to take my head off too. It's no wonder we can never have a nice meal at home with our own granddaughter. No wonder at all.”

  “Just a minute now,” Grandma White says, one hand still clutching ice to her face. “Nothing here was intentional. You simply didn't watch where you were going and we ran into each other. Simple as that.”

  “Yeah, Ye Ye. Just an accident.” Ana stands up, wondering if she should have held her tongue. Her grandfather regards her without expression.

  “You will clean it up, Ana,” he says finally. He turns to Nai Nai and says something in a stream of Chinese too fast for Ana to follow. She glances at her other grandmother, but Grandma White has her head down, concentrating on her ice. Ana shakes her head.

  “What are you waiting for?” Ye Ye jabs a finger toward the hallway. He pats Nai Nai on the shoulder and shuffles back to wherever it was he came from. Ana shakes her head. Thanks a lot, old man.

  “Go on, baby,” Grandma White says.

  “Okay,” Ana says with a sigh. “Sorry.” She's really starting to laugh. “I'll get the vacuum.”

  “No, no vacuum!” Grandma White exclaims. “That's good rice out there. Good rice. I brought it from Louisiana. You just pick that up and put it in a bowl.”

  Nai Nai nods her ice-packed head. “Yes, a bowl. For mine, too. That is high-quality jasmine rice. Excellent for cooking. Do not waste a single grain.”

  Ana stops laughing. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Don't get sassy, baby,” Grandma White says. “I hurt right now. Just do as we say.”

  “Grandma! Rice is rice. Plain and simple. Look at you, you've got half a bag.”

  Her grandmother eyes her steadily. “Do not argue with me, Miss Ana. Get that rice off the floor and back in the bag where it belongs.”

  Ana keeps her mouth shut. Her head is starting to hurt, and she didn't have to butt heads for it to happen.

  She grabs the broom and dustpan from the pantry.

  “Don't use that dirty thing on my food,” Nai Nai says.

  “Fine,” Ana says exasperatedly. “God,” she mutters to herself. She grabs two bowls and stomps back into the hallway. “Like we've got all afternoon.”

  “Ana.”

  It's Ye Ye, just around the corner in the living room, waving her over. She stifles a sigh.

  “Yes, Ye Ye?”

  His eyes stay on the TV, the volume low, but he waves Ana closer. “Ana, your grandmother is working very hard for you today. I do not like to see you be ungrateful.”

  Ana leans back.

  She thinks of the giant check in her nightstand and feels her face grow hot. “I'm not ungrateful.”

  Her grandfather looks at her and Ana feels herself shrink about five inches. He grabs her by the wrist. Ana gasps in surprise.

  “She asks for your help, you give it to her. Do not think you are smarter or better than your elders.”

  “I don't, Ye Ye, honestly. I'm picking up the rice right now.” She hates the sound of her voice, like a whining little kid's.

  Ye Ye looks at her a moment longer, then lets her go. “Good.” He settles back and turns up the volume a notch on the television.

  Great.She goes back to the hallway, her proverbial tail between her legs. This is the man who let her dad get away with shoving a sword into the ceiling.

  Unfreaking-believable.

  She glances at her watch. It's almost five o'clock and she's on the floor picking up rice. So much for a charmed dinner. She lets her arms and neck go limp in exasperation.

  “Man, I hate my life.”

  10

  “How is everybody?” Ana sings as she breezes back into the kitchen with both bowls. If they don't look too closely, her grandmothers won't know that she fudged the job until they're already eating. Jasmine rice has a nuttier taste she just can't hide.

  “That was easier than I thought,” she says with the slightest prickle of guilt. Fortunately for Ana, Grandma White and Nai Nai have other things on their minds.

  The kitchen has a distinct chill. Apparently, Nai Nai has gotten over her injuries. She is pulling the rice cooker out of the pantry. The big white and silver electric pot is almost as big as she is. Grandma White is still sitting at the table, looking forlornly off into space.

  “Here, Nai Nai.” Ana hurries to take the rice cooker from her grandmother. “I'll make the rice. You just rest.”

  “Good girl,” Nai Nai says. “Finally, you are respecting your elders.”

  Ana forces a smile and dumps the mixed rice into the cooker. She does a quick search for any stray carpet fuzz before adding water and plugging in the rice cooker. Of course, they'll find out at dinner, but who knows? With Jamie's folks at the table, maybe nobody will say anything.

  “There, all done. Now, anything else before I start the dumplings?”

  “Watch the rice,” Nai Nai says.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Grandma White rises slowly and takes a glass from a cabinet. “I'm coming toward you now, so watch out,” she says to Nai Nai. Gingerly, she works her way around Nai Nai, who simply shakes her head. Ana hears the ice cubes clunk into the sink and watches her grandmothers, one tall and brown, one small and pale, washing their hands.

  “Ana, don't forget the lion's head, either,” Nai Nai says, pointing at the pot of grapefruit-sized meatballs. “Cover it when it boils, then leave it alone.”

  “Okay,” Ana agrees.

  Nai Nai leaves and Grandma White breathes a little easier. Ana does too. Ye Ye's lecture still rankles a bit. Grandpa and Grandma White never make her feel so small.

  “Baby, bring me some aspirin.” Grandma White is holding her jaw where Nai Nai clocked her.

  “Go sit down. I'll get it.” Ana ducks out to the downstairs bathroom and brings back the bottle. Her mom still hasn't shown up.

  “How's that?” Ana asks after Grandma White takes her aspirin.

  “Baby, that woman has the hardest head on the planet. Am I bruising?” She holds her chin up to the light. Ana looks down at her grandmother and kisses her on the forehead.