Page 89 of Angel of Thursdays

May groaned. He thought he’d gotten away with this already. “I went to Cassiel’s family’s place for their Lunar New Year thing and then I had a weird night. I told you. Are we not gonna talk about how Lou’s still wearing sunglasses inside?”

“You didn’t mention you were at someone else’s house, May,” Anna said.

May put his fork down. The hash browns were good. He wanted to keep eating them instead of having this conversation.

“God. Okay. We were over in Fremont. Having an awesome day, actually. And then—y’know, the brain injury. Everything went fuzzy. I got confused or something, thought it was another year. I left. I went to Chinatown to get a duck because Lou likes duck, but Lau Kee was closed because it was literally Chinese New Year, so I grabbed some fried chicken instead, and then I went home. To the house.”

He said it fast, all one breath. Anna was watching his face, her brows drawn together in a way that made her look so much like their mother it activated something petulant and teenaged inside him that he had to actively suppress.

“Mama wasn’t expecting me, obviously, but she was… freaked out, and then I ate some stuff and Dad said I should probably go, so I went.”

“May.” Anna’s voice was careful. “Mama called me the next morning. She thought you were on drugs.”

“I’m not on drugs!” he said, a little too loudly. He looked around. “—Just, I mean, other than the normal drugs.”

“I know. I had to talk her down for twenty minutes. She was in a panic, she kept saying zenme ban over and over again.”

“Dad said…” May stopped. He reached for his backpack, on the seat beside him, and pulled out the green notebook and flipped to the page, to the words he’d written after Dad called after Thanksgiving:

You’re not going home for christmas and new years (both)

He turned it to show Anna. Evidence. She read it, her wedding ring catching the sunlight as she tilted the notebook.

“May,” she said. “That… doesn’t really mean anything. I don’t think Mama wanted you gone.”

The diner noise filled the pause. Louis had stopped eating and was chewing on his lip, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

May took the notebook back and closed it. He tried to remember what their father had said exactly, but as usual his memory was slippery. That’s what the notebook was for. The logic had been simple. Thanksgiving bad = Dad said don’t upset your mom = No Christmas, no New Year = Mom doesn’t want you there.

“Right,” he said finally. “I guess. I don’t know. Dad didn’t want to make a mess.”

Anna rubbed her face, but gently, careful not to smear her mascara. May might have made fun of her but it wasn’t the time.

“Will and I are going over this afternoon. Do you want to⁠—”

“Noooooope,” May said, reflexive, his smile manic. “Nope, I’m good. You go. Say hi. Tell Mama I’m alive and not on any drugs you wouldn’t dispense.”

“Maymay,” she sighed.

“Seriously.” He forked the smallest crumb of hash into his mouth. “I’ll go in my own time. Can you imagine trying to have that conversation with William there.”

Louis snorted and Anna sighed, abandoning whatever it was she was gearing up to say in favor of her eggs. Louis finally pushed his sunglasses up so that they perched douchily on his head as he finished up his second plate of French Toast Delight.

Anna paid, which is what Louis expected, and May reluctantly agreed after Anna pointed out that the red envelope money was from her and Will anyway.

May hugged her in the parking lot, the bomber jacket bunching at his elbows because the sleeves were almost right but not quite. She was warm and soft and smelled like the same perfume she’d worn since she was in high school. Heart-shaped pink bottle with a crown. Princess. He’d missed his sister.

“Text me,” she said.

“I will.”

She looked at him and he let her look, because Anna’s looking was different from their mother’s looking. Sometimes it felt the same.

“Okay,” she said. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Tell William… hi.”

Anna rolled her eyes, lightly punched his arm, and went her own way. Louis flipped him off, sunglasses back down. May flung it back.