January to January: A Journal

December

December 4

Today, the three of us moved out of Terry's apartment...and into Darcy's place. Shocker, I know. Long story: On Dec. 1, with the impending end of the fairy-tale (-ish) lifestyle we've been leading, Terry and Darcy reverted to their cagey connivances. At first, I didn't notice the murmurings and full-on nonverbal conversations with just facial expressions (only when I was around. It was funny if not paranoia-inducing. Imagine a scene in a comedy where there was no dialogue between the characters, but you get what's going on based solely on raised eyebrows, furrowed brows, duck faces, with the occasional rapid gestures as if sign language was the official language in the house). Because yours truly was seduced by the harmonious atmosphere in the past days, it took me quite some time to "get with the program". The sudden whispering between the two which stopped when I entered the room, the slips that Darcy would make talking about calls from Terry and then catching himself last minute, and the brooding expression that Terry lapsed into for a minute or so when it was just the two of us. In hindsight, it could be considered a constant miracle that the two of them could even connive without the kung-fu fighting scene in my prior dreams becoming real. Somehow, both of them decided (for the three of us. Where is my right of suffrage!?!) that the week was a success (even before it officially ended – which I agreed it was) and to test this arrangement out again in Darcy's place. Reason? I don't fucking know because I wasn't in the know! They just sprung the news on me yesterday. Of course, Terry would be the one to reveal the dictatorial decision, while Darcy acted out the part of the nervous and second-guessing henchman. On my part, I glowered at them. I even contemplated NOT following through with their plan just to spite them. I mean, I had nothing against the decision to go another week like this. It was the principle of the thing! You get me, right Journal? I feel like I was some delicate thing that needed to be protected from the world. Problem is, sheltered things tended to die early from lack of stimulation from the outside world.

So I made it known to the two when we settled in this morning that the next time they made major decisions like this without me, I was going to make their lives hell. I considered crying, threatening, or just plain nervous breakdown. But all three options were too Raspberry Rumba-ish on a bad hair (wig) day. And pouting and trying to be in-control mode only made Terry hot and bothered. So I settled for sarcastic serious with simmering rage, which miraculously worked for Terry and Darcy. Darcy looked guilty and promised immediately with a searing side glance at Terry, who took some time to convince. Terry didn't see why this was so important to me, especially since I admitted I liked the plan ("So what's the problem? I don't get it..." blah blah blah. It took superhuman restraint not to scream and slap his genuinely confused but gorgeous mug. But then I remembered, Raspberry Rumba does not become me. Shudder). Terry finally became exasperated when Darcy and I ganged up on him, and he finally promised. The bastard even asked for a hug "to seal the deal". He was about to turn it into foreplay when Darcy cleared his throat. Enter Auntie, stage right (to be technically correct, the door to Darcy's room was directly to our left, from where Terry and I were hugging), bringing extra towels and such.

"Oh, excuse me," Auntie said, visibly suppressing her mirth, and quickly left.

"This is awkward," Darcy mumbled, massaging his temples. When we first got to Darcy's place, Auntie didn't ask ANY questions, and just busied herself. Darcy must have already called her in advance, but he swore he didn't tell Auntie anything more than that we three would be staying in the house for a week. Auntie, being the sharp-eyed schemer that she was, must have already put two and two together. Clearly.

So mealtimes were kind of awkward, especially since Darcy was so nervous he didn't eat much. It was Terry who seemed like he owned the house, taking over the conversation, and connecting immediately with Auntie. The eternal flirt Terry made Auntie burst out laughing and joking along with him. Terry insisted Auntie eat with us when she demurred she'll eat later by herself to avoid disturbing the three of us. Darcy was torn (that man seriously won't win any poker games anytime soon. Sigh. Remember my comment about being swallowed up whole by Ma if he was her son?). During my past visits (admittedly fewer than what Auntie would have liked), I noted Auntie ate together with us. Unlike most hoity-toity families who made their servants (don't go all offended, Journal. It's just the way things are especially in the seriously hierarchical nature of Chinese culture. I mean, even our folk religion is one big divine bureaucracy. Literally) eat in another room and only after the family had dined, Darcy considered Auntie to be a relative, family. So did I. Apparently, Terry agreed too. So there we were, a collection of odd family members. But family nonetheless.