Untraditional

“Jason and I are getting married this weekend.” A wave of nerves crashed in my gut.

My mother fell silent on the other end of the call. I checked the phone screen in case we got disconnected. The timer ticked away. 

0:59

1:00

1:01

My chest tightened. 

“At city hall,” I announced. “We already scheduled it. Saturday at 10 a.m.” I paused. When she didn’t respond, I blurted, “Nothing fancy—” 

I gripped my forehead. That’s the worst thing to say to my mother. She had waited thirty-two years for the matrimonial Tea Ceremony. She probably drafted a guest list for the reception and a seating chart to go with it. I’m sure she even held the finest Chinese restaurant for an indefinite amount of time. Hell, she likely bought a cheongsam despite me never confirming my intent to marry until now. 

“Just show up—” I winced. Like some nobody? Perspiration oozed from my pores. “I mean, I’d love if you and Ba came.”

Still, she said nothing. 

The things she must be thinking. My eyes bulged. “I’m not pregnant! If that’s what you’re wondering.” I slid a damp hand down my face. Why was this so hard? “Jason and I wanted something intimate with just family, not some big thing.”

The Chinese custom was to have a formal family affair. The kind where my parents could welcome my future husband with all of their closest friends present. Breaking tradition in a Western context evoked a free spirit. But to my family, the lack of celebration insinuated embarrassment, either of Jason or of them. My heart heavied. 

Her hefty breath pierced my ear.

“I’m sorry, Ma.” My voice cracked. “I know this isn’t what you imagined.” 

She cleared her throat. “You can have Poh Poh’s ring if you like.”