Back to the Good Fortune Diner Read Online Free

fact.”
    “Well, no one’s going to be so impressed by your résumé that they’ll call you in for an interview tomorrow.” Good old Mom. A realist to the bitter end. “You should come and work at the diner.”
    “I can’t come in,” Tiff argued, panic setting in. “I’m going to be busy. Finding a job is a full-time job.” At her mother’s stiff silence, she blurted, “I’ll find a job in town.”
    “Doing what? Bagging groceries? Waiting tables? You can do that with us.”
    Tiffany sucked in a breath, forcing patience into her tone. “Look, Mom. I appreciate that you want to help me. I know I’m costing you and Dad groceries and stuff. As soon as I get some cash, I’ll write you a check to cover my expenses.”
    “It’s not about money or rent or groceries.” She sighed disparagingly. “I don’t see why you’re so against working for us. We could use the extra help. And we’re only trying to help you.”
    Tiffany knew that, and guilt made her resolve waver. But there was more than one reason she wanted to avoid the family restaurant. “I need to do this my way.”
    “Humph. You do everything your way, Tiffany, just like when you went off to college.” She spooned a piece of fish into her bowl, talking without meeting her eye. “You wasted your intelligence on an English degree. What has it gotten you except a bunch of low-level jobs?”
    “I haven’t found a good fit yet, that’s all.” She hated how defensive she sounded. Since finishing college, Tiff had held three jobs, all as assistants. She’d been at her most recent junior assistant’s position for the past two years. The problem was that upward mobility in the industry was limited, and senior positions rarely opened up. “But I was living in Manhattan and making okay money. I loved my work. I loved my life.”
    “You were probably living in a shoe box full of cockroaches, and ‘okay money’ to you means mac and cheese for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
    “I like mac and cheese,” Tiff said defiantly, though she had to admit that was only because instant ramen noodles had been getting tiresome.
    “You should have gone into medicine,” Mom said. “You never see any doctors getting laid off.”
    “Well, I didn’t,” she snapped. So, live with it. Tiffany gripped her fork hard. “I don’t want to argue about this over dinner.”
    Her mother gave her a long, inscrutable look, then stopped talking altogether as she ate. Tiffany’s appetite waned.
    “Only one bowl of rice?” her grandmother asked, alarmed when Tiff pushed up from the table. She hadn’t said a single word during the exchange between her and her mother, though usually Poh-poh broke up any arguments and made everyone save it until after meals.
    “I’m full. Thanks. I need to work on my résumé now.”
    “ Ai-ya. Always working.” Sunny cast her own daughter a disapproving look. “Just like your mother.”
    Rose shoveled rice into her mouth as if she were trying to dig a hole through her bowl.
    Tiffany quickly washed her dishes and left the kitchen. It’s like I’m a teen all over again. Only back then I used homework to escape the dinner table.
    * * *
    S HE HURRIED THROUGH THE HOUSE . Nothing about it had changed since she’d left. The decor was trapped in an awkward era between the seventies and eighties with faux wood cabinets, faded gray carpets and textured wallpaper that was stained in places. The only thing fresh and new about the place was the vase of red and yellow carnations on the mantel by the picture of Kung-kung, her grandfather, who’d died before the whole Cheung family left New York.
    Once in her room, Tiffany shut her door and leaned her forehead against the cool wood. Like everything else in the house, her room had remained untouched. Glossy animal posters were still tacked up on the walls. Mementos of her childhood still sat on the shelves, including the many plastic trophies and medals for spelling bees and mathletics, and her