Otuam residents usually address her as "Nana" -- an honorary title given to royalty but also to women with grandchildren -- and bow when they see her.
Nana took her turn with the hookah, inhaled, felt the blue glow enter her.
Nana and her mother came home from the hospital to find the children waiting on the back steps.
They moved with the familiarity of instinct, and when they rolled over, still attached, it reminded Nana of her dogs at play, harmonious intimacy.
Nana guessed that her husband had incited their racket, just to give him a good reason to hang up.
Of course, Huong could pass for Vietnamese, speaking the language as her native tongue, and Nana could pretend to be Malaysian or Singaporean, since she came from Hong Kong and spoke accented Mandarin.
Nana had arrived too late to visit her father the night before.
Nana could not say which of these people, her husband or her best friend, was the most responsible for the pain she felt now, that kicked-in-the-ribs sensation.
Pete, Nana corrected, as if cradling his warm head in her palm.
Lili was busy with a client in her room, but at dinner I showed it to Huong and Nana and said I would try to help them get the jobs if they were interested.
Nana had claimed a headache that morning, watching from her window as, first, her neighbors took themselves away, the mom in the car with the boy and the girl in the back, waving to Pete in his sweatpants on the porch.
Nana and Lili often joked that Huong treated me as if I were her boyfriend.
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