sh*t, Pei Ming thinks as he throws his work bag into his truck, slides in the front seat, and slams the door too hard. It'll be stuck later for sure. He shouldn't be getting so worked up about this.
Except he should—he is. When he told Ban Yue that he'd pick her up from school from now on, he meant it. By that, he means on time. He didn't mean to be an hour and a half late…again.
But how could he possibly explain himself to her? The disappointing inner workings of oppressive corporate capitalism aren't exactly prime concepts for children's cartoons. Overtime here and there might be comprehensible but God, that'd open up the conversation about bills and debt, and that's not something a girl her age should ever have to even remotely be aware of. No, the only thing her sweet six-year-old head needs to know in her life is that she has a father who loves her. Maybe a couple morals here and there, and oh, probably how to read.
And Pei Ming does love her, very very much. He'd do anything for his little angel. Which is why rolling up to the pickup lane of her elementary school shamefully late weighs down on him like all of the rubble from a collapsed skyscraper. For every effort he makes to rebuild, another earthquake knocks him right back down.
Pei Ming shuts off the ignition. It's quiet enough that he rests inside his own head for a moment, perhaps for the first time that day. It'd be nice to take a nap right here, but he shakes himself back awake, smacks the sides of his cheeks with both palms and exits the car.
Walking toward the administration office of the elementary school feels like walking into a court hearing. Unlike the cute, finger-painted artwork that line the lobby halls, the office is barren, devoid of color. This is the most serious part of the school—the room where only adults work. It's the room Pei Ming fears the most.
The receptionist clicks away at her keyboard, barely acknowledging him until he's right in front of her desk.
“Um, hello, I'm here to pick up Ban Yue” Pei Ming starts tentatively. The receptionist looks him up and down, probably determining his poor quality as a father, and then replies, “And you are?”
“Pei Ming, her father.” He's practically sweating bullets as the woman turns back to her screen. “One moment while I verify,” she says, dry as cardboard.
Pei Ming is somewhat used to this. His kid doesn't share his surname after all, which is an unfortunate afterthought of his divorce. It was a little more than messy, and the last thing he thought about at the time was changing his daughter's legal name. Perhaps someday in the future, his little angel will want to take his surname, but it would be her decision to make when she's older and understands that not all romances end with the king and the queen ruling a kingdom together. Given how little interest his ex-wife shows in her own child, he wishes that choice would come sooner rather than later, before she gets hurt.
After a moment clacking, the woman reports, “She's currently in Ms. Huang's classroom,” and Pei Ming just barely registers her voice and returns from the stratosphere.
Ms. Huang…who is that again?
Seeing his blank stare, the administrator adds, “Her homeroom teacher. Down the hall to the left, room 105.” Right. Her homeroom teacher. He should know that.
“Thank you,” Pei Ming says with a polite bow of his head. The administrator doesn't say anything and returns to her typing.
The walk down the hallway is quick but feels deceptively long. Pei Ming recalls getting lost amongst the maze of pathways during parent orientation only to hilariously find that the straightest path was the correct one. He finds classroom 105 without much trouble this time and peeks inside.
The interior of the classroom is bright and colorful; there's a rainbow circle carpet on the floor and glittery farm animals pasted all over the walls. The class rules written in bubbly, cute characters cut from construction paper read ‘be kind’, ‘be courteous’, and ‘be silly’ above the whiteboard at the front of the classroom.
A circle of three children are coloring at one of the short kiddie tables, and among them is a woman who Pei Ming assumes to be Ms. Huang, though frankly he can't remember her from orientation. She's a short woman with a round figure, though most of that is hidden by a long flowing skirt with sunflower patterns that her blouse tucks into. He berates himself internally for forgetting his daughter's homeroom teacher. That's strike two.
Ms. Huang looks over her shoulder, offers a nod of recognition, and taps little Ban Yue on her shoulder. The girl jolts up immediately, knowing over the children's-sized plastic chair she was sitting in.
“Daddy!”
Pei Ming drops to his knees, to her level, as she dashes over, his arms receiving her into a big bear hug. “Hey there sugarplum!”
He pats the back of her head only to find that it’s full of knots. That can't be right. He’s sure he sent her to school today with her hair down.
Waiting until his enthusiastic daughter breaks away to get a good look, he realizes that they're not knots at all. They're braids; twin pigtail braids that begin close to her head in elegant, intricately woven patterns.
Seemingly catching him admiring, Ban Yue cheerfully grins and asks, “Don't you like them Daddy? Don't I look like a princess?”
“You always look like a princess,” Pei Ming replies, and his little girl just beams at the compliment. “I love them. Did you do that yourself?”
Ban Yue shakes her head. “No, no—”
“That would be my handiwork,” comes the soft voice of Ms. Huang as she walks over, peeling her own braid from behind her to display it over her shoulder. It’s simpler than the style of Ban Yue’s hair, but just as royal-looking.
The hairstyle is lovely. Braided hairstyles look great on girls of all ages. But at this moment, it only seems to remind him that he can barely get a brush through his daughter’s hair, much less style it. This teacher taking the time that he could have spent bonding with his daughter is the only thing keeping Ban Yue from being just as disappointed in him as he is in himself.
Ms. Huang puts a gentle hand on Ban Yue's shoulder. “Your Dad is here to pick you up, little bird. Why don't you go collect your things?”
It doesn't take anything more than that gentle coaxing for Ban Yue to spring into action and disappear into the rainbow of coats that is the classroom closet. That girl might as well be made of electricity, and just seeing her bounce around puts a smile on her father's face for a much-needed recharge.
“Mr. Pei, might I borrow you for a moment?” asks Ms. Huang.
Pei Ming swallows. Hard. Her light voice somehow has the same weight of ten thousand buildings. Lead just to the threshold of the classroom door, she almost folds her arms. Pei Ming is ready to cringe but finds that she simply produces a pamphlet from her pocket.
“I just wanted to let you know that the school offers a free lunch program for students in need. Ban Yue might benefit from it.” Somehow the pamphlet finds its way into Pei Ming’s hands.
“Free lunch? No, no, we’re not impoverished, we don't need something like that. I pack her lunch.”
Ms. Huang’s brows furrow over her round eyes, almost in that sympathetic way most people look at him as a single father before she continues. “And you could enroll her in after-care. It would allow you to pick her up later in the day if that works better with your schedule. Just a few programs that the school offers that could help.”
Pei Ming doesn't need this. He already knows these programs exist. He chooses not to use them because he knows he can do better. Using them would be a cop-out.
With a gentle, dismissive hand, he replies, “Thank you for the information.” It's at about this time that Ban Yue has gathered her things and comes trotting back over with her shoes.
“Please consider it.”
Pei Ming smiles, but turns to his little girl, leans down, and says, “Sugarplum, you didn't tie your shoes. Here watch Daddy.” Ban Yue stares down at him while he crosses one lace over the other. “Step one, make an X. Then one friend under the middle…”
Ban Yue listens oh-so-carefully that she may as well have drooled on him like she did when she was an infant. Pei Ming supposes he can tie her shoes just this once.
Once her shoes are properly secured to her feet, Ban Yue runs to grab her father's hand, waving to her teacher as they depart the classroom. “Bye bye Ms. Huang!”
Pei Ming makes an effort to wave kindly as well. Ms. Huang beats in that category, as the flutter of her fingers is light and airy, fitting for a woman who works with young children. She'd probably be a thousand-fold better mother than he is a father.
What is he even saying? Of course she would. She's a teacher.
If his hands weren’t currently held low so that Ban Yue's tiny fingers can latch onto him, he'd smack himself right now. But he can't, so he settles for a gentle squeeze which is returned immediately with a giggle. Her smile is like a power cord directly to his heart after a long, draining day.
Once in the car, Pei Ming secures Ban Yue in her booster seat and begins the drive home.
“So how was school today? Do anything fun?” he asks. The question is uninspired, yet he makes sure to ask each day. He wants to know how his daughter is doing. He wants to show that he cares. Each day when he drops her off at school, he hopes the answer in the afternoon will be a positive one.
“We learned about measurements today! I measured my hair!” Ban Yue chirps.
“Oh? That's exciting. How long is your hair?”
“Twenty-five centimeters!”
“Wow—”
“—and then Ms. Huang braided it for me to keep it out of my face!”
Pei Ming frowns slightly, recalling that he sent her to school in what he thought was a pretty good ponytail. How did her hair fall in her face?
He puts on the most neutral expression possible and summons cheer from deep within his throat. “Did you not like the hairstyle Daddy did this morning?”
“It wasn't pretty,” Ban Yue says with just about as much tact as you can expect from a six-year-old, driving a spike right through Pei Ming’s throbbing heart. So blunt!
As he rolls up the driveway of the condo that is their family home, he says, “Sorry honey, I'll do better tomorrow. But I got fresh clams for dinner, you like those right?”
Ban Yue’s mouth goes wide, and she nods furiously. The clams always get her. They’re worth splurging on.
Once inside, Pei Ming begins dinner. It's already closer to dusk than he'd like, and his stomach is growling. His talent for cooking is far from chef-like, but he manages to boil a few clams just fine and adds them to noodles. His plating skills need work, but food is food, and Ban Yue scarfs it down without any comments.
After dinner, Pei Ming helps her finish coloring a unicorn print out from school. She was apparently so sad that she couldn't finish it that Ms. Huang allowed her to take it home. Once the rainbow mane is complete, Pei Ming finds a pristine spot on the fridge and cements it in place with his daughter's favorite butterfly magnet. They're from a set he purchased at the grocery store—bulbous, plastic, and cheaply made, but Ban Yue never cared about that. The pastel colors enthralled her and their cartoonishly round sculpt made them easy for her chubby toddler hands to hold. In short, they're perfect, and even several years later, she still loves them.
He'd truly do anything for her, which is why, after the lights in her room go out, he creeps back to the dining room table and quietly sets up his laptop.
The screen beams harmful blue light through his eyes directly into his skull, and the fan of the old, dusty hardware starts roaring as soon as he pushes the power button. One day he'll replace the darn thing, but he hasn't found the time or the money yet.
A few clicks into his internet browser and he's thrust into a rabbit hole of beauty gurus. Lip tints, concealer, something about having a seasonal color palette, and a curly hair routine all blast his brain. It's a sparkly-rainbow-cursive-font underworld, and he's swimming the Styx with no ferryman in sight.
Yet, when he drags himself onto the bank, he finds his savior, BreezyQingxianTutorials. She's a fun, trendy, stylish, upbeat young woman with curly-wavy brown hair (‘swavy’ as she calls it) and a different color lipstick in every video. Pei Ming strikes gold.
He clicks on the first thumbnail that seduces him, which is a roughly fifteen-minute-long video titled ‘How To: Ladder Braid | #Tutorial #StepbyStep’. While he finds the title a bit gaudy, he can't deny the majesty of the end result. A woven ladder circling his little princess's head? She'd look fittingly royal! Scratching his beard, he thinks that surely this would be easier than braiding all of her hair.
Spoiler, nothing goes Pei Ming's way. He spends all night studying, but without anyone or anything to practice on, the next morning is disastrous. Knots, tangles, hair pulls, the whole nine yards. A bobby pin here, one there… No it's not looking right. How did Shi Qingxuan start the ladder again?
“Daddy?”
“Let me try one more time, Pumpkin,” Pei Ming assures as softly as he can. She's lucky that his daughter is so thick-skinned.
Eventually, he manages…something. It looks nothing like the tutorial and perhaps a little bit Avant Garde, but he got the bow to stay this time! A mixture of pride and failure washes over him, though. He knows exactly where he went wrong but not what to improve. Maybe tomorrow he should pull the video up and directly follow the steps.
Still, there are other ways he can excel as a father this morning. While Ban Yue gathers her school supplies into her backpack, Pei Ming grabs some leftover pork meatballs and rice from the fridge, placing them neatly into separate containers so that one item won't soggy the other. Lastly, he peels and slices a tangerine, which adds some much-needed color to the whole presentation. Everything tucks nearly, nay, perfectly, into her lunchbox, which is the last thing to fit inside her bag before it's zipped up and ready to go.
One drive later and they arrive just in time to wait with all of the other parents in the drop off lane. Could Ban Yue take the school bus? Yes. But Pei Ming can bear the thought of his little girl having to sit on those grimy, uncomfortable seats! Plus, her elementary school is on the way to his office, so it's convenient. He usually isn't late for drop-off.
Now that he thinks about it, afternoon pickup is the only difficult time to be here. It's more or less during rush hour when the highways are almost impassable. Maybe she could start taking the bus home…
He shakes his head. He can't leave a six-year-old home alone, not when the least of his worries would be her sneaking a few extra sweets from the pantry without his knowledge.
He parks and opens the backseat door while Ban Yue rushes to free herself of her booster seat. Her excitement for school is always pleasant to see, especially considering that her father never really enjoyed it. She'll probably end up smarter than him, and he's perfectly okay with that.
Ban Yue waves goodbye, and Pei Ming waves back at her. There's something vaguely sad about dropping her off each morning. Is she doing alright? Is anyone bullying her for the thrift store clothes she wears? Or her father's miserable attempts at doing her hair? These questions wash over his mind, knowing that a child's smile can hide these kinds of things.
But like every morning, Pei Ming is forced to part ways, forced to continue on so that other parents can pull up to the parking spot.
As he rolls out of the drop off lane, he catches the floral skirt of Ms. Huang. The way it flutters in the wind suggests grace, and the way she smiles is beyond pleasant, perhaps ethereal, like a fairytale queen. But Pei Ming cannot help but feel judged. He'll be on time for pick-up this time, he swears it.
Except today is even worse than yesterday. Unable to wrap up his projects on time at work and stuck in traffic for over an hour, Pei Ming is one the last parents to arrive.
He makes the same case to the front desk. He turns and walks down the same hallway in shame. He arrives at the same classroom. This time, though, the chatter of children cannot be heard.
This time, Ms. Huang intercepts him in the hallway.
“Hello Mr. Pei,” she greets him kindly. Today her hair is in two braids that cascade down the sides of her face. Pei Ming swears he saw a tutorial for that style online. She makes it look so easy.
“Good afternoon Ms. Huang,” he politely says back, even though he is well aware that the time is dangerously close to breaching evening. A smile is mandatory, even if he's so tired that he doesn't even know if his cheeks can raise enough to form one.
Ban Yue trots up to the door. She already has her backpack and her coat on. She smiles but doesn't say anything as she reaches out for her father's hand.
Her hair is braided again. This time, into one large braid with a tight weave down her back. Something about it looks fancier than a standard braid. Comparing the hairstyles between Ban Yue and Ms. Huang, Pei Ming realizes that his daughter has the more intricate one.
Probably noticing his stare, Ms. Huang says, “I hope you don't mind me braiding her hair. She seems to like it.”
Looking down at Ban Yue now, Pei Ming squeezes her hand and asks, “Sugarplum, do you like it when Ms. Huang does your hair?” His wounded ego cries out to add, ‘do you like it more than when Daddy does it?’, but he bites down on his tongue instead. He knows her childish blunt attitude would only confirm the opinions of his inner critic.
A true smile brightens Ban Yue's face as she nods furiously. “Mmhm! Ms. Huang is the best!! Better even than Mama!”
Ms. Huang almost seems flustered at that, but she quickly locks back into a professional demeanor just as quickly as Pei Ming's shoulders sink. Perhaps under different circ*mstances he'd be thrilled about the comparison—his ex-wife wasn't the woman he thought she was, and he frankly wanted nothing more than to have her thrust out of his and Ban Yue's lives. But at the same time, she wasn't horrible. He doesn't wish her any ill-will. If she had stuck around long enough for Ban Yue's hair to grow out this long, he’s sure the mother-daughter duo could accomplish the same fairytale hairstyles at home that Ms. Huang could in her classroom.
But Pei Ming has to remind himself that she's not here. She's long gone. Left with their child, the wilting shingles on the roof, and their collective debt, Pei Ming had no choice but to step up into the role he plays now, but he never did so very gracefully, in retrospect. He floundered around like a fish out of water, taking gasping breaths while laying beached upon the sand. Maybe he hoped that he’d grow legs and walk himself back to the ocean. Miracles just don't favor him, it seems.
“Mr. Pei?” It’s Ms. Huang again.
Shaking himself back to Earth, Pei Ming answers, “Hm? Yes?”
Ms. Huang speaks slowly. “I had asked if you were planning to attend our parent-teacher conference.” Her brows curl up, but otherwise, her expression is relatively blank.
Straightening, Pei Ming replies, “Oh, yes! Yes of course I am!” His leg sheepishly drags his toe along the floor. “When…is that again?”
“Tomorrow at noon.”
Tomorrow? Did he block that off on his work calendar? Scratching his beard now doesn't seem to help him remember, but he'd sure look foolish if he didn't show up.
“Yes, I'll be there.”
Ms. Huang gives him a skeptical look, but smiles like she always does in that perfect, ‘I'm-better-than-you’ kind of way and replies. “Alright then. I look forward to it.”
A sleepless night passes after that. Pei Ming can almost feel the creases and cracking under his eyes when he wakes up the next day.
Ban Yue, per usual, surges into action as soon as the sun rises, tenfold more delighted to greet the new day than her father.
“Daddy, Daddy!” she calls as she dashes down the stairs, nearly tumbling at the bottom.
Pei Ming, who has just started the pot for coffee, searches alarmingly for whatever fire there must be in the house to make her scream so much. “What is it? What's wrong?”
Ban Yue sways back and forth on her toes, staring up at him with round, disk-like eyes that shimmer in the low morning light. Her hair is silky smooth—impressive given how complex of a hairstyle she was given the previous day. Pei Ming wonders if Ms. Huang taught her how to remove the tangles too.
Then Ban Yue says it, the phrase that Pei Ming both craves and dreads.
“Daddy do my hair!!”
Pei Ming inhales. He's ready for this. He has practiced a handful of times. That should be enough, right?
“Alright, alright, sit,” he says as he places a hand on Ban Yue's shoulder. The girl's energy practically vibrates through him, but she contains her energy enough to find herself in one of the dining table chairs.
Okay. Ladder braid. With his phone propped up beside him, he navigates to the tutorial video.
Beginning with three strands, each held in a shaky finger, he crosses one section over the other, then again. That braid isn't as tight as he would like, but he drops the middle strand and continues. Left over middle. Right over middle. Drop the section. Left over middle. Right over middle. Drop the section.
Yank!
“Ow Daddy!” Ban Yue protests, and Pei Ming immediately surrenders her hair.
“I'm sorry sugarplum, I'll be more gentle,” Pei Ming apologizes while Ban Yue rubs whatever pain she feels from her scalp. A clownish flyaway clump stands erect from her head, mocking the father who now must tame it. But with what? Water? Hairspray? Should he weave it back in?
After a second that may as well have been an eternity with all the thinking it required, he wets his hand in the kitchen sink and smooths over the rogue hair. Narrowing his eyes, he waits. It holds. Success!
Pei Ming parades his daughter around the house, making sure all of the living room decorations, the basket of fruit on the kitchen counter, and even the cat can see his incredible handiwork.
Both father and daughter march out to the car with swagger, so much so that the threshold practically quakes under them, the door knob shakes, and the welcome mat rolls out like a red carpet for the king and his little princess.
Just as her majesty plants herself upon her throne of a booster seat, Pei Ming spies it. A single cowlick protruding from her crown braid. Suddenly the fantasy comes crashing down as everything flies out of the band holding it together.
The castle walls crack and the velvet carpets peel up from the floors. Golden jewels tumble from shattered crowns and the imaginary fanfare leap to pocket them. Down with the royals, down with this silly idea that Pei Ming could ever pull off his charade. Everything is undone.
Arriving at school amidst his defeat, the king's dull carriage squeaks to a needs-to-have-an-oil-change-stop. Ban Yue tumbles out and is immediately surrounded by her friends, a sight that gives Pei Ming some relief. At least his poor attempts at hairstyles haven't deterred any of her classmates. He'll keep trying for her.
He parks in the far corner of the parking lot and waits about 30 minutes before his scheduled parent-teacher conference.
Walking into the school at this time, Pei Ming is hyper-aware of just how out of place he is. He passes children no taller than his thigh that are dressed in rainbow-colored t-shirts of joy and brightness while his slacks and white collared shirt drown in oppressive formalism. He’ll be going to his office after this of course, a place where his attire is appropriate, but for now, he wishes that at least he had on a colorful tie.
By the time he reaches Ms. Huang's classroom, his knees are spaghetti. He hasn't heard any giggling children through the doorway, and the silence is eerie.
Approaching the door, he inhales a deep breath. There's only going to be one person in that room. Ms. Huang. His biggest critic.
Today she wears a pink blouse and a white skirt, her hair tied loosely into a low ponytail and her bangs are clipped out of her face. Currently occupied with a serious expression on her face as she clicks and types on her laptop, she doesn’t notice him until he has creeped too far into the doorway.
Spying him, she looks up from her computer and offers what should be a reassuring smile. “Come in.” Her voice is soft and elegant like silk.
Pei Ming shuffles in and finds himself across from her in a seat she has placed on the other side of her desk. One of his nails digs into the side of his other hand.
“No need to be nervous, Mr. Pei,” she says gently, almost with a giggle that escapes her plump lips with glee. Pei Ming wonders if she has any makeup on to make them that color. Perhaps she's just naturally soft and feminine. But what is he doing peeping at his daughter's teacher like that?
“I'm not nervous.” His reply immediately counters. His nails might as well be drawing blood.
Her ebony eyes linger on him for a moment and her brows curl slightly upwards. Pity? Pei Ming can’t discern the exact expression.
“Well,” she begins, “Ban Yue is an excellent student. Even at a young age she shows great academic understanding, far beyond her peers. She does well socially, she does well creatively, and she does well athletically. In short, Mr. Pei, your daughter is wonderful to have in my classroom.”
Muscles pulled taught like violin strings in Pei Ming's shoulder loosen as he eases back into the chair. “Really? That's…good to know.” He plays it off suavely. Of course he knows that Ban Yue is doing well in school. He can tell by her…coloring projects that she brings home. “Good to hear, I mean,” he corrects.
His little Ban Yue, thriving at school. Why is he so surprised? The girl is a ray of beaming sunshine after all. Doesn't it make sense that she's surrounded by friends?
He understands it now. Maybe on the days he forgot to pack her lunch, he figured she'd be sitting alone at the table. Maybe on the days where he couldn't comb all of the tangles out of her hair, he thought that other children would think it was full of rats and be repulsed. Maybe he thought that on the days when he was late to pick her up, she spent her time isolated with school administrators. But even that, he knows, isn't true. Ms. Huang has always been there at least. She had everything all along. Pei Ming is the failure. Ban Yue is just such a shining star in his, and others’ night sky, that she can illuminate the world despite his shortcomings.
So when Ms. Huang asks if there's anything he has questions about, the one thing on his mind blurts itself out.
“C-can you teach me how to braid her hair?”
Ms. Huang's silence immediately turns Pei Ming's face red and hot. How could he be so impolite? What was he thinking? Even his forehead pressed apologetically to the floor wouldn't be enough to make up for his obnoxiously loud actions. The teacher in the classroom next door probably deserves to see and hear it too.
Ms. Huang opens her mouth and Pei Ming immediately interjects with, “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—” His mouth snaps shut. “I just did it again, I'm the absolute worst, forgive me.” He lowers his head, ashamed.
A muffled laugh draws his curiosity hesitantly upward.
“Are you…laughing?”
The smile behind Ms. Huang's hand speaks for itself, but she regains her lost ounce of professionalism back and replies, “Oh, no, I—” They lock eyes for a moment. Pei Ming searches for anything else to look at but is swept away into dark black irises. For some of that lost time, he wishes that he shaved last night so she wouldn't have to see him fidget with his beard.
“You…” He studies carefully.
Ms. Huang finally cracks into a low snort. “Okay, okay, you got me. It was a little funny.” She folds her hands across the desk, giving up the shield that previously protected her expression. “You're a funny man, Mr. Pei.”
He gives up his last bit of face and tiredly holds up a hand. “Just Pei Ming is fine.”
She repeats back, “Pei Ming. Noted,” quietly to herself, scribbling his name down in her notes before looking back up. “It's Yushi Huang by the way, if you'd like to be less formal with me. Anyway, braiding hair? That's what you're interested in? Have you tried video tutorials online?”
There's skepticism in her tone that Pei Ming is uneasy about for a moment, then he realizes that he's already acted like a court jester in front of a queen, so he might as well continue. Somewhat humiliated, but beginning to regain a fraction of his pride, he replies, “Yes…it's what makes her happy…and I just want to make her happy. I've tried, but I just can't seem to get it.”
“Hmm, I see. Well, that's a noble goal for a parent to have. And difficult to learn for those who didn't grow up learning how to do it.” Her comment makes Pei Ming blush a little. Noble? It's just hair.
“So…you'll help?”
She thinks for a moment. “I might have some time after school today to teach you. You'd have to stop by around 4 PM.”
The world suddenly seems a little brighter. Pei Ming nods. “I can do that! I mean…yes, yes, that works.”
Ms. Huang—Yushi Huang—waves him out of the classroom, saying, “Great, I'll see you then,” and the rest of Pei Ming's day suddenly becomes ordinary.
He scrambles to his beater car only to get stuck in traffic during peak rush hour. So maybe scheduling the parent-teacher conference first thing in the morning wasn’t the best idea. Waiting at impossibly long red lights certainly makes him think that, anyway.
After what seems like an eternity, he arrives at his daily prison. Without any delightful children’s artwork to line the walls, the corporate office lacks any sense of personality or charm.
At first, accomplishments from earlier in the day, if he can call them that, carry him high above the monotonous work of his day job. But at lunch, his mind wanders.
What if he messes up in front of Ms. Huang? What if he can't learn how to braid? What if—
Somehow his swirling thoughts blink him through the day. He's not even sure if he got any work done by the time he's face to face with Yushi Huang again.
It's 4:15 PM, a little later than he intended to be, but at this point, he can only assume he's right on time for her expectations of him. Frankly, any time before 5:30, his personal worst record, is an achievement.
The school is nearly empty at this time of day, save for the reliably judgmental administrative staff who, with a roll of their eyes and faces more sour than lemons, direct him to room 105.
She's inside of course, just as beautiful as she was earlier in the morning—wait…beautiful? Realizing that his heart skipped a beat or two, Pei Ming searches desperately for something else to focus on. Come on, Pei! You don’t even know if she’s single! Paperwork…the nasty woman from human resources…taxes…these things steady him quickly, thankfully.
Knocking casually on the side of the door frame he announces his presence before entering. She acknowledges with a nod. There's something different about her, something silky, dark, and smooth. She's wearing her hair down.
“Your hair looks nice,” Pei Ming says as he passes through the threshold into the colorful classroom, unable to keep himself from complimenting a woman once the thought forms in his brain. He never took the time to notice before, but not only is the space filled with a full rainbow, but it's decorated with plants along every sunny windowsill. Vibrantly green and basking in the light, each looks healthy and well cared-for.
Pei Ming gravitates towards the plants, admiring each one. Her eyes follow him for just a moment, and she smiles while he appreciates the greenery. “Thank you. I figured you'd need someone to practice on,” she replies.
Ms. Huang—no, Yushi Huang, moves to sit on the floor, and once there, she pats the carpet with her hand to beckon her student. Pei Ming awkwardly shuffles over to her.
One of the short children's chairs keeps him elevated slightly above her. Admittedly, it's a little relieving not to have to see her face. No judgment this way. But then again, she is, all things considered, pretty, so on that front, he wouldn't mind getting a better look occasionally. Not that he is looking, of course. Any views would be accidental.
Bringing out his phone, he scrolls through the various princess braids he has saved and presents his goals to her.
“Hmm, this one is a bit complicated. Do you know how to Dutch braid?”
“Dutch braid?”
“Yes, this part here, close to the head.” She points, continuing, “It’s not what I’d recommend for a beginner. If you're new, why not start with something simpler?”
His shoulders sink. “I thought this was simple.”
Yushi Huang chuckles softly. “Perhaps that’s your issue. Nobody starts climbing mountains from the intermediate trails. Let's start with a standard three strand braid then. Here, like this.” She takes her hair and runs her fingers through, dividing the black curtain into three even sections. “You always take the outside section and cross it over the middle section. Left to middle, right to middle. Then back to left to middle.”
“Left to middle, right to middle…” Pei Ming repeats as his hands follow the motion. He's not as practiced as she is, so his first few sections are clumsy, but it’s easier to manage the strands now that he doesn’t have to worry about weaving in more hair.
“You can pull a little tighter than that,” Yushi Huang instructs. “Otherwise, the weave will be loose and hair will slip out.” Now that he recognizes his mistake, he notices hair already doing exactly that.
“Um,” he starts, “What do I do if that happens…hypothetically?”
Yushi Huang gives him a sideways glance. This is it. Not only has he failed to even do the simplest braid, but now he has tangled his teacher's hair? He really should never touch hair ever again.
Yushi Huang chuckles. “You just start over, no big deal.”
“Is there really no way to fix it?” Pei Ming asks, hopeful.
“Nope, not really. I suppose you could bobby pin it but it’s probably better for you to get more practice instead.” She dips her head forward so that her hair slips through Pei Ming's fingers. Any progress he made is immediately undone, but with a fresh slate, he tries again.
Over and over throughout the hour, Pei Ming makes attempts to braid. Try after try, he weaves hair again and again and practices securing the elastic band over and over. Dutch, French, fishtail, waterfall, he tries each style at least once. In the end, it's the simple braid that he accomplishes.
“Well done,” Yushi Huang praises. She runs her hands down the braid as if she were checking over one of her student’s’ work. “No lumps, no bumps, you did it!” She pats him encouragingly on the shoulder a few times for good measure. It makes Pei Ming blush a little. It's been a long time since anyone has told him that he's even at least half-decent at anything.
“Thank you,” he manages.
He glances up at the time. Obviously he's late to pick up Ban Yue today, and he winces a bit.
Yushi Huang points him to the extended care classroom, and as soon as Ban Yue spots him, she runs and leaps into his arms.
“Hey, sweetie, are you ready to go home?”
“Mmhm!” Ban Yue beams, as if she never noticed the time passing by.
Over the weekend, Pei Ming practices on anything he can get his hands on: string, shoelaces, the tall grass before he mows it. On Monday morning, he wakes up with fire and purpose in his belly.
After breakfast he glances over at Ban Yue's long, dark hair.
“Ready?” He asks.
Ban Yue beams and scrambles into one of the dining table chairs. “Yes!”
“Hey now, you have to stay still or else it won't be centered,” he warns lightly as he positions himself behind his daughter.
She makes an attempt to calm herself, but her little legs still sway back and forth with supreme delight. Pei Ming shakes his head with a smile. The girl just has too much energy, but that isn't a bad thing.
He begins to braid her hair exactly as Yushi Huang taught him, beginning by parting it with a comb close to her scalp. Making sure to keep her bangs out, Pei Ming parts down her head to create two sections. He ties one out of the way loosely with a hair tie while he focuses on the other section. One pigtail becomes three even sections that he then weaves all the way down to the bottom before tying it off with another hair tie. Then, he mirrors the same style on the other side so that two braids cascade down her back. He may have pulled a little too hard here and there, and the two sides don't exactly look even, but as soon as he finishes, Ban Yue bolts over to the bathroom mirror with sparkling eyes to admire herself. Up on her toes, she turns to look over her shoulder one direction, then spins around to look at the other side.
“Daddy I love them!” she practically screams as she comes skidding back around the corner into the living room, the two twin braids swinging around and slapping against her sides.
That same energy carries out the door, into the car, and all the way to school. Pei Ming watches from the drop-off line for a moment as his daughter instantly surrounds herself with her friends, twirling around so that her twin braids fly through the air like a fairy in a far-off fantasy world. Her friends are equally mesmerized.
That’s right, Pei Ming thinks, be amazed.
Next, Ban Yue runs up to none other than her teacher, who wears her hair in a long, elegant braid today as well. Yushi Huang squats down, admiring Pei Ming's handiwork. She catches his eye almost immediately, smiles, waves, and gives a thumbs up. Really, it's all the praise in the world that Pei Ming could ever ask for. He did it.
But there's one more thing he needs to do this morning. Pei Ming feels through his jacket pocket. It's still in there, good.
He strolls through the entrance of the school and into the administration office. The worker behind the desk leers at him for a moment before saying, “Good morning sir, how can I help you?”
Pei Ming takes a deep breath and fishes a crumbled brochure from his jacket pocket.
“Hello. I'd like to sign my daughter up for extended care after school.”
