Half and Half Read Free

I didn't mind sharing my room with Nainai. She and I are close. I love the way she smiles at me and says, “You look more and more like your father.”
    Dad is Nainai's favorite son, so this is a real compliment. That's why Nainai would have a terrible shock if I dyed my hair red. She might be hurt, because she would think that I was trying to look like my mom instead of my dad.
    Nainai had to share my room because Mom's parents, the MacMurrays, were coming, too, and they'd be using the guest room. They were coming down from Vancouver, British Columbia, for the annual Folk Fest.
    The Folk Fest is held once a year during a weekend inspring, and it's when all the ethnic groups in our region put on programs showing their arts, crafts, costumes, food, drama, dance, and music. Our teachers and the local papers and TV are always talking about how “ethnically diverse” Seattle is, and the Folk Fest is supposed to show off our diversity. Our family goes every year and we squeeze in as many shows as we can. In three days you can see performances from every continent on earth, from countries I hadn't even heard of.
    This year Grandpa MacMurray had been invited to direct some of the Scottish dancing at the Folk Fest. Music and dancing are his two great loves—maybe that's where I got my own love of dancing. Over the years, Grandpa has taken part in many dance programs in Vancouver, but this was the first time he'd be doing one in Seattle.
    Since Grandpa and Grandma live close by—Vancouver is only about 150 miles away—they visit us so often that we've gotten into the habit of thinking of the guest room as their room.
    This wouldn't be the first time my father's and my mother's parents met. They were all there for my parents' wedding, of course, and they met during the holidays afew times. But they never had to stay together in the same house for long. Dad's parents usually stayed at a hotel when they came up from San Francisco to visit.
    But since Dad's father died last year, we always invite Nainai to stay with us when she is in town, since we don't want her to be in a hotel all by herself. Lots of other single women do it, of course. But Nainai looks kind of soft and helpless, and we can't stand the thought of her drifting around, lonely and lost, in a big downtown hotel.
    So that was why Nainai would be sharing my room three days from now. It would also be the first time she and Mom's parents would be spending more than a week together.
    I didn't think there'd be a problem. Grandpa and Grandma MacMurray are happy people who like to laugh a lot and make jokes.
    If I was worried about anything during my grandparents' visit, it was with Dad. Normally, I enjoy being Fiona Cheng, daughter of Frank Cheng, the writer and illustrator of children's books. It always gives me a thrill when one of my friends says to me, “I just loved your father'slatest! When is he going to do another Cowardly Dragon book?”
    My brother Ron and I try to think up ideas for Dad, but in the end he always comes up with the best ones himself. So I'm proud of my dad—most of the time. It's just when Nainai comes to visit that I feel embarrassed. For some reason, he starts acting like a child when she's around.
    I began to notice this during Nainai's visit last year. It was her first after our grandfather had died, so it was the first time she came alone. When both my Chinese grandparents were here, the men usually hung out together. Dad, Grandfather, and Ron would sit in the living room while Nainai, Mom, and I prepared food in the kitchen. Actually, it was Nainai who did the cooking, while Mom and I looked on.
    But during this visit, things were different. Dad didn't have his father to talk with, so he came into the kitchen and joined Nainai. Since he normally did the cooking anyway, this seemed perfectly natural. It was the way he talked to her when they were in the kitchen that was so strange.
    I noticed first of all that his voice sounded higher than