“Wei?” I said into the phone, offering a traditional greeting and inquiry at the same time.
“Oy! You. Call Mom. You’ve not called in a month, you know!” My sister’s shrill voice came over the phone. Elder sisters were the same the world over, I thought. Bossy and always right.
“Has it been a month already?” I winced. I wished I could say I’d been dodging calls, but the way of Chinese parents the world over was they expected me to call them, not the other way around. It was my duty—which, as usual, I failed at. I really was not a good son. “Sorry. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“You… you… you know what. We’re doing dinner. Now.”
“What?”
“Dinner. At the usual place.” As if to entice me to come after berating me, she added, “I’m buying.”
“Fine, fine,” I said, wincing.
It had been months since I’d seen her. Not since the last family gathering I’d managed to make. Sometimes it was strange that I could live so close to my family and yet never really see them. I liked my family. You know, in the abstract.
In the flesh, my family was grumpy, insistent, and prone to a lot of guilt-tripping. Even if I did deserve it most of the time, I didn’t want to be subjected to that kind of environment. Of course, there were advantages to showing up at family dinners—including my mother’s cooking.
Once I’d explained the matter to Alexa, she insisted on dropping me off at our designated meeting place—the only decent Hong Kong dessert shop in the city. There were others around, but this was the only one that did desserts right. Whether it was because the store was owned by a family or because we had grown up eating similar desserts, my sister and I agreed there just wasn’t another place that compared. Proper, pressed soybean drinks, hot tofu pudding with just the right amount of cane sugar, crispy pancakes with drizzled condensed milk. My mouth watered at the thought. Once again, I wondered why it had taken me so long to come back.
As I stepped out of the car, stretching from the long ride over, I held the door open to speak with my friend. “You sure you won’t come?”
“It’s a family meeting,” Alexa said, shaking her head. “And your sis can get you home just as well as I can. Make sure to bring some snacks back for us.”
“As if Lily would let me forget.” I snorted.
Alexa chuckled as we regarded the Quest that had appeared in our joint eyesight.
Quest Received: Bribe the GM
Bring back delectable snacks for the GM.
Rewards: Variable, depending on satisfactory levels of bribes
Of course, we both knew that this particular quest wouldn’t provide much in terms of experience. But bribing the GM was a long-time tradition in tabletop games, so it was “allowed,” according to Lily. I still thought she was stretching the wish a little, but since it was in my favor, I wouldn’t complain. Closing the door on the car, I waved Alexa off before turning around.
The dessert café was bracketed by large store-front windows that showed the fluorescent-lit interior. Within, multiple square tables lined the cream-colored wall before a single counter blocked off the dessert display and the kitchen behind. A pair of waitresses in casual clothing worked the counter and the floor. Students on a late-night food run, tired professionals, and a single four-person family filled the small café, but my sister was not among those present.
Having scoped out the location, I walked in and was quickly shown to my seat. The red upholstered chair squeaked slightly as I placed my jean-clad derriere on it and flipped open the presented menu. An order of non-caffeinated bubble tea later, I was resting quietly against the hard chair-back when my sister breezed in.
Terror of my past, annoyance of the present, my future berater stalked towards me. She barely crossed the five-foot line by a pair of inches, though you wouldn’t know it as her three-inch heels took her from vertically tiny to just short. Petite or not, my sister had enough attitude to take up a room and the delicate features that had men clustering around her whenever she went clubbing.
“Hey, sis,” I said, waving from my seat.
Katie—Katherine, but she hated the full name—took a seat and glanced at the menu. “You ordered yet?”
I shook my head.
“Good. You always get it wrong.” Waving, she got the attention of a waitress and fired off a series of orders before turning her piercing attention on me. “You’re looking good. Added a bit of muscle. And that jacket’s new.”
I glanced at the enchanted coat and shrugged, grateful that the enchantments were on the inside. Not that they looked like anything but weird runic glyphs, badly sewn or burnt on. One thing they didn’t discuss in all the books and fantasies was how hard it was to actually do the work. I swore if I was in a proper game system, I’d have sewing at level 5 already.
“Thanks?” I said hesitantly.
“So this new job of yours is going well?” Katie said, eyes narrowing.
“It’s piecemeal, but there’s enough money in it.” I knew the question was about more than money, though money was a big part of the conversation. After all, it was hard to be healthy and happy when you were struggling to make ends meet. Not impossible. Just hard.
“And what is it that you do again?”
I suppressed the smile that tried to creep onto my face. I’d been purposely vague with my family. Hard to say “I run quests, make minor magical items, and occasionally kill monsters” with a straight face. Among other things, my liberal, civilized, and worrywart parents would freak out about the idea of me getting injured. Even if I did have magically gifted healing, it was just a sped-up system. Not a hand-wavey fix.
“Arts and crafts,” I said. “I make things and sell them to people.” That answer wasn’t much better, not for an Asian family, but we make do. “And run errands for some of my richer clients.”
“You know what Mama and Papa would say, right?” Katie said, eyes narrowing.
“Why do you think I stay away?”
“Avoiding the argument won’t change their views,” Katie said. “In fact, it makes you look like a child trying to hide a smoke.”
“But talking to them won’t change their minds. You know them. Have you ever won an argument?” I countered, shaking my head. “Easier to just keep them in the dark.”
“And at arm’s length?” Katie opened her mouth to berate me further but was interrupted as the food arrived. When the waitress left, I picked up a sesame ball and dropped it on her plate. “This isn’t over!”
“Food first.” I popped one of the balls into my mouth.
Katie sighed but dropped the conversation, allowing us to focus on the dishes. In short order, we were done, replete and less angry.
“Henry, you need to call and visit more. Staying away hurts them. You know that. I know you know that, so why?”
I grimaced but stayed silent, not having a particularly good answer.
Katie sighed, shaking her head, and pointed at me. “Ever since you started this new job, it’s been like that. And don’t think we haven’t noticed the new scars and the muscles. Are you part of a triad? A gang?”
“Of course not!”
Katie smiled slightly at how fast I replied, taking it for the truth it was. I was just grateful that I hadn’t tried to overthink the question, since the Mage Council could be considered a weird cult. Not a triad or gang, but, you know.
“Then where are you getting all this money? I don’t believe you’re earning that much just ‘running errands.’”
“Well, I don’t care if you don’t believe it. It’s the truth.” I paused, then added, “Okay, not just running errands. I get a bunch from selling my stuff.”
“Your… stuff.” Katie waggled her eyebrows, and I snorted.
“Not that kind.”
“True. You have no chance at earning a living that way,” Katie said.
I sniffed, but I had to admit I was grateful that we had shifted our talk in a new direction. For a time, we turned to happier things, like discussions about Katie’s lack of a love life as she pursued her career in the banking industry, about old friends and past experiences. We talked like family did, about nothing important and everything. And I couldn’t help but forget some of my worries, forget about the fact that someone had tried to kill me earlier that day. I reveled in the normalcy of the conversation, and my sister, the smart woman that she was, noticed it.
Eventually, the waitress gave us a look, hinting that it was time to free up her table. I paid for the bill, making sure to leave a generous tip. An act that made Katie raise an eyebrow, though she didn’t pursue it.
Our congenial atmosphere lasted until she dropped me off at home. Then she put a hand on my arm, growing serious. “Henry. Call them. And… consider trusting us. Whatever is going on, you know we’ll support you.”
I flashed her a quick, wry smile and nodded, detaching my arm from hers as I opened the door. Family, obligation, responsibilities. I was never good at them. Not at home, not in person. But I’d try to call them more often, even if I had to lie. Because for all that I wanted it otherwise, might want it otherwise, my life was not one I’d drag them into.