Page 68 of From Beijing, With Love

As they entered the arrival hall, Yang lifted his phone to his ear, and a string of rushed Mandarin flew out. Poppy herded Daniel off to the side while Yang continued arguing with whoever it was on the phone.

“My cousin is here,” Yang said when he rejoined them, looking every bit his old grumpy self that Daniel adored. Though if Daniel was honest with himself, there wasn’t a version of Yang he didn’t like. “I’ve told my dad a hundred times that I don’t need to be picked up, but he sent my cousin anyway. And …” Yang’s eyes landed on the far side of the arrival hall. “There he is.”

“Ready to meet the in-laws?” Poppy tossed Daniel a wink as Yang hurried toward a man with glasses.

Daniel stood a bit straighter and wiped his sweaty palms on his wrinkled T-shirt. He wasn’t remotely ready to meet Yang’s family. He wasn’t good at first, second, or third impressions. He thought of himself more as something that grew on people over time when they least suspected it.

Yang’s cousin was in his forties, slim everywhere except his protruding belly. The two of them stood taller than the crowd around them and waved at one another like two people too familiar for handshakes but not quite comfortable enough for hugs.

“Meet my cousin Mingfu.” Yang returned with his cousin, and another round of awkward waves ensued. “He’s going to give us a lift.”

“English not very good,” Mingfu said to Daniel with an apologetic smile after greeting Poppy in Mandrin. Without another word, the game (or competition) of who got to take the luggage began, and it was a game that Daniel didn’t know how to play. He had neither the quickness nor the persistence of Mingfu, not to mention his aversion to confrontations of any kind. It ended with Mingfu taking both his and Poppy’s rolling suitcases and one of the duffel bags. Daniel gave Poppy a what-the-fuck look.

“Oh, you have so much to learn about your people.” Poppy yawned. “Wait until you have to fight over the bill after a meal.”

“Are you saying that I shouldn’t send Yang’s cousin a Tikkie for his half of the bill if we ever eat together?” Daniel asked with feigned naivety.

“Oh, please do. I’d pay to watch that,” Poppy said as they crammed into the back of Mingfu’s aging minivan. From the layer of dust on the once-white exterior to the cigarette burns in the upholstery, it was obvious that the car had seen better days.

“Um, is there a seat belt?” Daniel asked after groping the back seat cushion for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Mingfu turned around, while driving, and spoke in Mandarin, as if Daniel had somehow learned the language within the short walk between the platform and the underground parking.

“He said the car is old, so there’s no seat belts in the back,” Poppy said, seemingly at peace with the fact that they were in a two-ton death machine without the most basic protection.

“Do you want to switch seats?” Yang asked from the front passenger seat.

Given that they were already on the road, Daniel shook his head.

Mingfu turned around, again, and spoke more Mandarin, even though he really should’ve been keeping his eyes on the road, given the seat belt situation.

“He said it’s perfectly safe when we are not on the highway,” Poppy said, barely keeping a straight face.

“That’s … reassuring?”

It’s fine. We’re not on the highway. Totally safe. Daniel repeated the words in his head, willing the logical side of his brain to take over and show the anxious side who was boss. It almost worked, until their car drove up a ramp and merged onto what looked a whole lot like the highway.

“I know I’m not from here and all,” Daniel said, trying not to be a nuisance. “But is this not the high—”

His last word was drowned out by the wheezy roar of the engine as the car tried its darndest to keep up with everyone else. Daniel pressed his back into the seat, wishing he could Velcro himself to the scratchy cushion.

This was going to be a long ride.

“Where are we?” Daniel asked, finally letting go of the seat cushion he had been holding on to for dear life.

His question went unanswered as Mingfu maneuvered the car onto the sidewalk in front of an old apartment building. Daniel would have questioned the parking choice if there weren’t half a dozen other cars already parked the same way.

Yang spoke up in Mandarin, doing a bad job at keeping the sharp edge of annoyance out of his voice. Poppy leaned in and interjected, also in Mandarin. And Daniel understood none of it. He cursed himself for not learning Mandarin, for shying away from it just because he felt like a fraud whenever he tried to speak the language.

“Mingfu told my dad I’ve brought friends home from abroad,” Yang said from the front passenger seat, followed by a deep sigh. “And now everyone’s upstairs making dinner for us.”

“For the record, I tried to decline. Numerous times. But Yang’s cousin here”—Poppy tilted her head in Mingfu’s direction—“won’t take no for an answer.”

Yang got out and circled to Daniel’s side of the car. He opened the door. “A word, please?”

Daniel tossed Poppy a reassuring look and got out of the car. He followed Yang around the corner of the building, out of sight and out of earshot. Only then could Daniel see the frown lines between Yang’s brows. The man was going to need Botox by his thirties.

“So … I’m meeting your family?” Daniel asked.