Single Sashimi by Camy Tang Page B

had to wait. Grandma was busy with Trish, who was holding the baby and trying not to fall asleep. It was kind of cute to see Trish smiling at the baby and dozing at the same time.
    And was it just her, or was that baby kind of ugly? Red and wrinkly, and everyone kept saying she looked like Aunty so-n-so or Uncle what’s-his-face, but Venus didn’t think she looked like anyone alive that she knew.
    “What are you going to name her?” Aunty Marian touched her granddaughter’s ear.
    Grandma straightened. “Oh, you can’t name her yet.”
    “What do you mean?” Trish’s eyes popped open. Despite her tiredness, she was wide awake at Grandma’s statement. Venus sighed. Grandma might be back on speaking terms with Trish now that the baby was here, but Trish wasn’t about to kowtow to her after months of the silent treatment.
    Grandma had on her “Let’s be reasonable” face. “We have to call the bonsan in to tell you what letter the baby’s name has to start with.”
    “I’m not even Buddhist. Why would I want the priest in, telling me what to name my baby?”
    Uh-oh. Trish’s weariness had ratcheted her temper up a notch. Venus started squirming her way around people toward the bed.
    “But he has to bless the baby.” Grandma seemed genuinely confused why Trish wouldn’t follow the same tradition she followed with all the aunties and uncles, the same tradition the other cousins in the family followed with their children.
    “I’ll get my pastor to bless the baby, and I’ll name—”
    “Grandma.” Venus grabbed Trish’s foot under the blanket to make her shut up. “Trish is really tired. We should let her rest.”
    On the other side of the bed, Venus’s mom just had to stick her nose in. “I was in labor for thirty-six hours and didn’t need to rest.”
    Trish opened her mouth, but Venus pinched her toe hard. Trish gave a soundless yelp and subsided.
    “Mom, why don’t I take you and Grandma home.” It wasn’t a question. She speared her mother with a look that dared her to rebel.
    Mom flung her hands up, ringed fingers sparkling. “Fine, fine.”
    Grandma, however, gave Venus a speculative glance. She never offered to take Grandma home; she usually waited for someone to ask her to do it. And half the time, she had the excuse she was going back to work. A strange smile played on Grandma’s lips as she gathered her purse and said good-bye to everyone.
    Venus ignored her mother’s huffing and puffing when she put up the convertible top for Grandma, after refusing to do it for her yesterday. “Mom, is your car still at my place?”
    She paused in fluffing her short, permed hair (which Venus didn’t understand, considering there was no one around to see her). “No, Jenn drove me over to get it, and she drove to my apartment with me so she could take me back to the hospital.”
    Venus paused, one foot inside the car and one foot out. “Aside from that, you’ve been at the hospital the entire time?”
    Her mother’s head, visible above the top of the car, halted before she squeezed into Venus’s miniscule backseat. “Of course. Where else would I be?” She flashed an “I’m such a compassionate aunt” smile before ducking into the car.
    Venus caught the smirk on her grandmother’s face as she flipped the passenger seat back into place and eased herself in.
    Who knew Grandma had a sardonic streak?
    She drove Mom home while listening to her swing between gushing over the baby and grousing about Venus’s tiny car.
    “That’s why I’m taking you home first, Mom.” Oops, did she lay the sarcasm on too thick on that one?
    “Well, your place is so close. You could have dropped me off there to wait for you while you took Grandma home.”
    What was the deal with Mom wanting to spend so much time with her all of a sudden? Her mother had turned into one of those clingy Jellyfish Monsters from the video game who would lock her in a death grip and suck her face off.
    By the time they arrived at