Just Like Other Daughters Read Online Free Page A

Jin’s work that astound me. Chloe knows nothing of art or artists. She can’t draw a stick person or a box. But she gets Jin’s work. Jin thinks Chloe picks up on the emotion of the piece. I think they’re both full of shit. I don’t get how a piece of artwork made of canvas and oil paint or clay and iron washers can have emotion.
    “So what are you going to do?”
    “Do?” I eye the Pop-Tart Jin is munching. She nabbed it from the cabinet when she came in the house. They’re one of Chloe’s favorites, so I buy them for her. It has white sugary frosting with sprinkles, and when Jin bites into it I see the number-something red-dyed strawberry filling. I tell myself it looks disgusting, but it looks delicious. I’ve had a hard-boiled egg this morning. Started a new diet. I lick the tip of my finger and touch the crumbs Jin has dropped on the round oak kitchen table. We have a dining room, but I use the table in there as a desk. We haven’t used the dining room as a dining room since Randall and I divorced. I press the crumbs to my tongue. “About what?”
    Jin lifts a perfect, dark eyebrow. She has them waxed. She has her lady-parts waxed, too. I try not to think about that.
    “About the boyfriend .”
    “She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” I whisper.
    “A fiancé, then?” Jin takes another big bite of the Pop-Tart.
    Now she’s just baiting me. I want to snatch the Pop-Tart out of her hand and cram it in my mouth. I take a big gulp of black coffee. “Chloe does not have a boyfriend,” I repeat. “They drank apple juice together.”
    “I’ve had some damned good relationships based on less.”
    I sit back in my chair, thinking. I look up. “You don’t think . . . she would let a boy take advantage of her, do you?”
    “He’s not a boy if he’s her age. He’s a man.”
    I frown. I’ve always made certain Chloe was protected. She’s never left alone, not even in our own house. Besides not being able to make good choices about stoves and candles, she’s too sweet, too trusting. She’s also an affectionate girl. Physically affectionate. It’s taken years for me to get her to not hug strangers. I’ve always had a fear that if a predator were to tell her she was pretty, or offer her Gummy Lifesavers, she’d get in a car with him.
    I look at Jin. Her new haircut is cute. It’s chin-length and asymmetrical in the front. Very hip for a fifty-year-old woman. Self-consciously, I tug at my ponytail. My hair is the same color as Chloe’s. Or hers as mine, I suppose. Pale red. Thick, a little wiry. I’ve always envied Jin, with her shiny black China-doll hair.
    “Maybe I should talk to Minnie,” I say.
    “And say what?” Jin crumples the silvery Pop-Tart wrapper. She’s still chewing. “But you could check him out, I guess. Do a little recon.”
    I hear Chloe clomping down the steps.
    “Mom! Mom!”
    “In the kitchen,” I call. I look at Jin. “You think I should check him out?”
    She shrugs as she gets up. She has a nine-thirty watercolor class. “Why not? I still check out Huan’s female friends on Facebook. When he was in high school, I checked his cell phone messages and listened in on his phone calls,” she says, seeming unashamed of her lack of respect for her son’s privacy.
    “He’s not her boyfriend,” I say, louder than I mean to. He’s not her boyfriend , I repeat to myself as Jin goes out the back door and Chloe walks into the kitchen with pink bunny slippers on her feet.

3
    I have no intention of checking Thomas out . Really, I don’t. I think Jin ought to be ashamed of herself. What would Huan think if he knew his mother was Facebook stalking his friends?
    I manage to get myself on a high horse for a few minutes, but I don’t stay there long. The truth is, Huan probably wouldn’t be all that surprised by his mother’s behavior. Or upset. Jin was a Tiger Mom long before Amy Chua coined the phrase. I don’t completely understand the phenomenon, but I understand it’s