My cousin Sophie is going to Paris to study ballet. My mom asked me for $10,000. I sent her a screenshot of my bank account balance—$10,000.20. Not a penny more. Five seconds later, her message popped up: [Keep twenty dollars for food. Send the rest.] 1 Before my finger could even touch the screen, another message from Mom jumped out: "By the way, when are you coming home? I'll make that coconut chicken soup you like." "My CD matures next month. I'll pay you back every cent then." Go home? I actually went home yesterday. A high school friend got married in our hometown, and I specifically told my mom last week that I'd stay the night after the reception and head back to New York the next morning. She agreed enthusiastically over the phone, promising to leave the door unlocked for me. But when I got to the door, it was deadbolted. Just as I was about to knock, Mom's voice drifted out: "I'll ask your sister for the money tonight when she gets off work. You just focus on signing up for that ballet intensive." "Auntie, will Jojo agree? It's ten grand, after all. And you haven't paid her back for the last loan yet." "Why wouldn't she? She's got a soft heart." Mom let out a light laugh, tinged with disdain. "You know she's plain-looking and has a bad temper. If she wasn't pulling in $80,000 a year now, do you think I'd even bother with her?" Sophie whined, "But you bought her an iPhone right after graduation and gave her money." Mom's voice shot up: "Silly girl, if I hadn't waited on her hand and foot after graduation, coaxing her, do you think she would have chosen computer science? Remember Mrs. Wang's son? He went to a state school and is making over $50k. You've been out of school for a while now; have you calculated how much I've spent on networking for you?" Mom's tone softened into pure doting: "You! You've nearly spent my coffin money. If I hadn't had the foresight to make Jojo subsidize the bulk of it, how would you be living this good life?" Sophie cheered: "Auntie, I knew you loved me more than my own mom! When I go back to LA this time, come with me. I'll take you sightseeing!" "Alright! My Sophie is so thoughtful!" I had drunk some wine at the wedding, and my stomach was churning. I wanted to throw up but couldn't. My first reaction was actually gratitude that I never paid to replace this thin, non-soundproof door. I drove back to New York overnight. 2 Mom kept blowing up my phone, so I turned it off and slept. Early the next morning, I went into the office. In this world, the only person who won't betray you is yourself. When it rains, it pours. At 10:30, my stomach started cramping violently. My phone vibrated. Mom's WeChat messages were like a death warrant. "Why aren't you replying? What are you doing?" "When can you send that $10,000 we talked about yesterday?" ... I replied: "Stomach hurts. Talk later." "Why does your stomach hurt again? I tell you to cook at home every day, but you insist on eating takeout. Of course your stomach hurts!" I didn't bother replying. Do I look like I have time to cook when I'm working overtime every day??? Her kind of "concern"—all talk, no effort, just to earn the reputation of a caring mother—was laughable. I was the fool for not seeing through her tricks earlier. "Jojo, you're white as a sheet." Wendy brought me a coffee. "Did you eat something bad?" I opened my mouth but couldn't make a sound through the pain. I waved my hand. She grabbed me: "Don't be stubborn. I'm taking you to the ER." The lights in the emergency room were blinding. When the nurse handed me the report, her eyes held a trace of pity: "Suspected malignancy. We recommend a biopsy for further pathology." I stared at the line on the report, suddenly feeling the absurdity of life. Just last night, I was calculating that a few more years at this company would get me a down payment to move out of my cramped rental. I was planning to stop giving Mom money, travel abroad, eat good food, wear nice clothes, and love only myself for the rest of my life. And now, fate hit me with a sledgehammer. 3 It was late when I got home. Wendy comforted me the whole time and helped me apply for a day off to rest before dealing with the next steps. My mind was a mess, and of course, Mom sent another voice message. I declined it: "Busy." "Busy with what? Did you take what I said seriously? Your sister's tuition is due the day after tomorrow. Any later and it'll be too late." "Don't worry, I'll definitely pay you back." Heh. Believing she'd pay me back was like believing the sun rises in the west. The empty promises she'd made over the years could fill a warehouse. "Wait for Dad's paycheck, I'll buy you a new backpack." "After Sophie's performance, I'll use the leftover money to buy you a dress." "Mom will keep your Red Envelope money safe and add some more to give back to you later." ... It all turned into bubbles. 4 I took a deep breath and called her: "Mom, I really want to ask you, have you ever genuinely treated me as your daughter? I've always been curious why you've disliked me since I was little." Mom sounded confused: "Why are you asking this all of a sudden? You're overthinking again. Stop talking nonsense, when is the money..." My tears started falling. I took a picture of the medical report and sent it: "I'm sick. I need this money for treatment. You guys figure something else out. If you have any money left, lend me some." Mom immediately sent a voice message: "Stop joking, Jojo. Don't learn those trashy pranks from the internet. Joking about illness is bad luck. Your sister is so close to making it. After this intensive, she'll definitely become a principal dancer! When she starts making money, she won't forget you..." Suddenly, I didn't want to hold back anymore. I grabbed the phone and said weakly: "Do I owe you anything? If she wants money, tell her to sell her blood or a kidney!! Don't come to me!" I turned off my phone. I hid under the covers and cried my eyes out. Then I told myself, quietly: That's it. This is the last time I cry for people who aren't worth it.
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