Page 41 of A Banh Mi for Two
“Good night, little sister!”
Plopping onto my own mattress, I look up at the ceiling above my bed. Glow-in-the-dark stars and constellations stare back at me. They’re cheap stickers, a gift from Ba. Má thought they were ugly, but I was so insistent that she gave in. The stars still glow brightly even though years have passed, as if they’re trying to remind me of him. We’d lie in this room together just like this, counting stars until I fell asleep.
Look at the stars, con. Can you see B?c Ð?u th?t tinh?
I’d nod at his words, pointing out the shape of the Big Dipper. It looks like a spoon.
He’d laugh. Do you see how Ð?i Hùng tinh and Ti?u Hùng tinh are next to each other?
I’d nod, noting the Big and Little Dipper side by side. Why are they always together?
Because, con à, you always need someone by your side. But you see the Big Dipper? That’s me. Con, you’re my Little Dipper. Ba will always be with you.
A heavy weight settles on my heart. I twist and turn and avert my eyes from the ceiling until they land on the pile of picture books that Ba gave me. They’ve been collecting dust in this closet. I turn away from the books and face the wall instead. It’s better not to think about them right now. I need to sleep.
Or not.
Frustrated with myself, I get up and walk toward the books. I take the first one, a story about a girl magically transported into a world with a talking cat and magical cards. I flip the cover open, and an envelope falls out of it. To Lan, it reads.
I wrinkle my eyebrows and pry the envelope open, smoothing my hand over a birthday letter written by Ba a long, long time ago.
My Dearest Daughter,
Con, Happy Birthday! You are my brightest star, Lan. You make me the happiest father in the world.
You are my greatest treasure, my star, and my compass.
As you turn ten today, you must remember: Always be kind, always be clever, and always love.
My daughter, you are everything to me. Please don’t grow up too quickly.
Tears stream down my face. My mind returns to when Ba gave me this very book, when he had wrapped it in orchid-patterned paper and set it on the dining table with a birthday cake and plenty of egg tarts. I hold the letter close to my chest, feeling its weight—feeling the love inked from Ba. No matter how long he’s gone, I’ll always remember.
I flip open the leather-bound notebook, and on a new page, I start writing. In the flickering candlelight, my hand glides across the page as words and words spill out of me. A sense of euphoria grips me, and I feel like I’ve broken through something. Like I can write again, and here I am, writing about a beautiful city that calls my name and the girl that exists with me within it.
The girl who shows me I am enough. That no matter what, I can write.
Chapter TwentyVIVI
“You’ve been staring at that Google results page for an awfully long time. The consensus is that yes, Lan likes you. No need to ask an artificially intelligent thing.”
Multiple Google tabs stare back at me: How to Tell if Someone Likes You and What Does It Mean When Your Crush Puts a Band-Aid on You. The results are mixed, with one camp advocating for yes, they’re totally into you and another camp calling me absolutely delusional for even thinking so.
“This WikiHow has an outline of how to make your crush like you.”
Cindy rolls her eyes. “You do not need all that. She. Likes. You.”
“You are one opinion! And you’re obviously biased toward me.”
“Okay? The entire justice system is biased! Anyway, this jury of one has decided: Lan definitely has the hots for you.”
My phone rings, saving me from more of Cindy’s antics. My heart skips—maybe it’s Lan—but then I see the caller ID from the FaceTime.
“It’s my dad.”
She gulps. “I’ll… leave you alone to take the call.”
Like a typical Vietnamese dad, mine only does two things with his phone: He posts a lot on Facebook and he sends a thumbs-up emoji to every one of my texts. He never calls. Unless something is wrong.
