Dial A for Aunties (Aunties, #1)

by Jesse Q. Sutanto

“Got small problem. Very small.” Something crashes and breaks from her end. It sounds large.

she give them that drink, you know, abstinence?”

she hisses, her voice coming out triumphant. I can practically see her and Ma glaring each other to death.

The wedding ceremony has been arranged to take place on the water. Literally on the water; the resort is built in the shape of a semicircle, with the huge, sprawling building gently curving around a giant infinity pool. A stage has been built right on top of the pool, so it looks like it’s floating. Rows upon rows of flowers adorn the sides of the aisle, and bowls of flowers with lanterns in the middle float serenely on the pool’s surface. The whole setup is breathtaking.

I want to laugh hysterically. Why am I still bothering to do my job?

It’s as though I can feel the coldness of his aura creeping up my back.

rounds the corner and walks gracefully down the aisle. She looks like a fairy queen. Her dress billows gently in the wind, making her look ethereal, and behind the sheer lace veil, her face is radiant. But as I zoom in and take pictures of her, I see that her smile is forced,

not giving my brain that space to freak out, and take a step forward.

My lungs are screaming, my chest is on fire, and my muscles are water.

The storm is coming, and the wind bites through my wet towel and clothes like a knife.

Everything is—well, it’s unlikely that anything would be okay, but at least I won’t be going through it alone.

elbowing chests and stomping on feet whenever they need to (and sometimes even when they don’t need to),

Big Aunt shoots Second Aunt one last magnificent glare before dragging her gaze to mine.

God, she’s good. Now that she’s done telling her part, she’s switched to English to goad Second Aunt into relaying her story in English too.

How’s that even remotely supposed to make me feel any better?

You should be grateful my drug of choice is just a shot of absinthe. Most other entertainers go with coke.” “Coke got so much sugar,” Big Aunt sniffs. “Better drink Coke Zero, otherwise later you get diabetes.”

I take a deep breath. Be strong, self.

the wind’s picked up and is howling like a grieving widow.

pushes me aside like I’m a shopping cart in his way.

It’s not hard to hear the sheriff; even over the howl of the wind, he’s practically bellowing every word.

the sheriff scratches his jaw with conscious effort, as if it’s something he’s seen some TV detective do and decided he’d do it too.

He leans forward as if he’s about to reveal some secret, but his voice is still as loud as ever.

Phew, I should try that more often. This feeling is honestly pretty addictive.

eyeing me from top to bottom with a languorous leer that makes me want to take a long, hot shower.

Never mind thudding, my heart is kicking. I swear it’s grown legs and is sprinting, crashing over and over into my rib cage. Any moment now, it’s going to kick its way right out of my chest, Alien-style.

like he’s seeing the most amazing sunrise ever, his handsome face lighting up with awe.

“When they arrive, you are going to lose your license.” Or whatever the hell it is that cops have. Sheriff McConnell shrugs, his meaty face squishing into a sly smile. “Yeah, they’ve been saying that for years, and yet here I am.”

they’ve shut the giant wooden windows to protect the place from the storm. It completely transforms the place, turning it from a tropical paradise into a shuttered castle with fierce winds and rain raging against it.

“Jia you!” Second Aunt gives me the traditional Chinese cheer.

“And why are you flapping like a chicken at a slaughterhouse?”

I’m the one who started it all. I should be the one who finishes it.

She’s incandescent. It might be rage or sorrow or—

“Tsk,” I tut at them, and they look sliiightly abashed.

I can practically see the stink fumes radiating from them.

“Who drugged you?” Sheriff McConnell roars. “I mean, I don’t know. I’d like to know, that was some good stuff—er, I mean, yeah, that was really uncool, drugging us like that,”

“What a strapping hero,” Fourth Aunt simpers.

Ma and Fourth Aunt waving their arms like they’re one of those dancing balloon thingies outside of car dealerships.

Fourth Aunt whispers in a volume loud enough to be heard over the din of the restaurant.

Thank you for giving up everything so that you could give me everything. This book is about families, for my family.