The Queen of Tears Read Online Free Page B

early so I can get good and drunk. I had enough sober-time with that woman.”
    Crystal walked to her closet. There he went again. The hardships of being raised by an actress mother. He didn’t even know hardship. But she knew it; she knew it well. It took focus for her to turn around and smile at Donny. She pulled off her dress and said, “Well maybe I should just go like this?”
    Donny laughed. “I’d love to see that,” he said without really looking.
    -4-
    So I had to go to dinner with the folks, my loser uncle, Grandma, and Crystal (I don’t know how she ended up with the loser). We were going to some sushi bar because Grandma likes rich people food. I think that’s all old people eat. Even the folks like rich people food sometimes, but they usually stay home. All Dad eats is broiled chicken or tuna, and Mom can’t live without her kimchee, or anything else that smells bad. I’d hate to have a friend over and have them see the inside of our icebox. There’s jars and jars of something pickled or fishy, always Korean and always hot, sitting next to at least a dozen bottles of Dad’s Mauna Loa Hawaiian Natural Spring Water. It’s like Mom should go live in Korea again. But I guess the folks are cool. Mom gives me money for Playstation and computer games, and Dad is thick. He paddles canoe for the Hawaiian Canoe Club, and he always wins. I hope I get muscles like him when I get older, but I doubt it. I’m not really into sports and surfing and stuff. I like my computer. I guess I’m kind of a nerd, and Dad gets on me sometimes about it. But he surfs the web with me sometimes. Mom would freak if she saw the porn stuff he has bookmarked. Good thing Mom doesn’t use the computer. She also doesn’t drive. It’s weird.
    So we get to the restaurant with Grandma to meet the loser and Crystal. It’s called, “Yoshi-something” or “Samurai-something,” you know some Japanese name. Well, we get there, and it’s so obvious that the loser is drunk. I think Crystal was drinking, too, because as soon as I walk in, she runs and kisses me. On the cheek. But it was awesome. You should’ve seen what she was wearing. She had this tiny white dress that was so tight, I don’t even know how she got her boobs into it. You could see her bra. Bras are cool. And she was wearing those huge Spice Girl shoes. Some girls in school wear those, but they look nothing like Crystal. They wish. It’s like Crystal should be on Baywatch or something.
    Well, after she kissed me, Grandma didn’t look too happy. You know, old school. I don’t know why she’s worried; like Crystal would go out with me, a kid. I wish. But she wasn’t happy about it, and what made things worse was that Crystal looked at her, smiled, and gave her a giant hug. I never saw anybody hug Grandma before, not even grandpa, when he was alive. Right after Crystal let her go, Grandma started smoothing out her rich, old-person skirt and twisted the big diamond on her right ear. I don’t think I ever saw Grandma wear anything wrinkled before. She’s like so old, and even her face doesn’t have wrinkles, just make-up. Well, after she stroked her skirt a few times and gave the earring a twirl, she walked up to me, pulled out a little plastic bag filled with white tissues from her purse, licked one of the tissues, and wiped my cheek. Some metallic lavender lipstick was smeared on the tissue. I can’t believe Grandma did that. What am I, two? I don’t want her spit on my face.
    Well, everybody said “hi” to each other, and we all took our usual places at the bar on the smallest chairs in the world. Of course, I had to sit between Grandma and Mom, which never made sense to me considering they always spent the whole night talking to each other in Korean. Dad sat next to Mom. Crystal sat in between loser and Dad. Dad and Crystal talked in pidgin, while the loser pigged out on like the most expensive and gross sushi, even that slimy orange stuff, while drinking sake