Herb's Bistro was a small bistro with only ten tables, each table with four chairs, and a waiting list that could reach two weeks.

Herbert Wellgrove was a self-made chef who learned the rope from a very young age. He was born and raised in one of the poorest neighbourhood in this city, and worked his way as a dishwasher in various restaurants when he was a boy, the fifth child of a family with seven children.

He was a smart kid who learned the basics of cutting, vegetables and meat handling, and cooking techniques just by watching the chefs in the various restaurants he worked at. He learned everything he could from the various kitchens, and he used what he learned to start his own bistro.

Herbert married Lynn when they were both 19 years old. Lynn had been his neighbour since he was 12, when she immigrated to this country from her birthplace, a small town in Guangzhou, southern China. They were young and madly in love and the disapproval of Lynn's parents did not deter them.

What the young couple thought was love fizzled away when faced with the birth of Airin, and the dire financial situation when Herb started his bistro and there was not many customer at all. Herb became louder, angrier, and Lynn sunk deeper in self-doubt as she tried to raise Airin with no help from her parents and walk on eggshells with Herb around. Herb did not take part much in parenting Airin, his bistro was his life.

Herb's years of hard work paid off. His bistro was now successful with only-by-reservation tables frequented by the who's who of the city ...

Airin tumbled into the cool airconditioned bistro that afternoon. It had been a long afternoon for her. Sammy, her student, had a stomachache after class because of the anxiety caused by the delay in his dad picking him up, so she stayed with him, hugged him the whole time until his dad came and picked him up.

Then she rushed back home to change clothes into her bistro waitress uniform: white short-sleeved dress shirt, black pencil skirt, see-through nude stocking, and black ballerina shoes, and ran out again to catch the bus to get to the bistro, a few kilometres away at the centre of the city.

With her luck, the bus made screeching noises, let out plumes of smoke from its exhaust, and broke down three bus stops before the bus stop she was supposed to alight. She alighted, decided taxi was too expensive, and started running like mad to the bistro.

She was supposed to be at the bistro at 4PM to help with table preparation, napkin folding, and whatever else Dad wanted her to help with.

It was now 4:30PM. Airin sighed at the entrance as she caught her breath. The bistro was not huge, its interior deco was minimalistic with dark-lacquered wood table, 4 chairs in each table, and a tall vase with freshly-cut white rose on each of the tables. A medium crystal chandelier hung on the ceiling in the middle of the room.

The smell of garlic being stir fried wafted from the kitchen at the back of the room, mixed with smell of fresh shiitake mushroom and braised pork belly, loud clanging of metal spatula on hot wok added to the atmopshere. Warm and inviting.

"Want a glass of ice lemon tea?" a voice startled her, gravelly from years of smoking.

She turned and saw May, the restaurant's manager. A beautiful, petite brunette in her mid-forties with almond-shaped hazel eyes and lips that had been through some lip-filler procedure. The full lips was matte red, May's brunette curls were swept up in one bundle on top of her head, some curls dangled just perfect to frame her face. Her white shirt was one size smaller than what was comfortable, at least for what Airin thought was comfortable. Her shirt buttons were almost pulled apart as they tried to cover her voluptuous breasts. Her tiny waist, perfectly flat tummy, and long legs made Airin think that she should have been in some magazine cover.

May stood behind the bar next to the kitchen and was busy cleaning the beer taps.

"Airin? Ice lemon tea?" she asked again with an obvious impatient huff.

Airin shook her head. "No thanks, May. Where is Dad?"

May smiled wryly, her eyes stared at her straight. "Well, are you sure you want to see him now? He was looking for you 15 minutes ago. Pissed. It's 4:30pm now. You are late, sweetheart. A glass of lemon tea would have done you good to calm down a bit from that huffing and puffing of running."

Pretty, and vicious. That was May indeed.

The double door of the kitchen swung hard and Herb stomped out, red-faced, with his phone on his right hand.

Airin sighed as fear crept in her, Dad's dark eyes pierced her, suddenly he tilted his head even more to the phone. Someone picked up his call on the other side. "Stanley! Stanley! The mushroom is wrong!" he bellowed. "What is wrong with you? I am your loyal customer, aren't I? Can't you tell the difference between shimeji and enoki? I need shimeji, not a double shipment of enoki! Shut up, Stanley ... no, no, you listen to me! Oh yes you bet I am pissed and no I will not calm down!"

Stanley seemed to frantically try to explain something as Airin could hear his voice, not the message, from where she stood.

"I don't care what problem you have there, solve it! Here! Talk to May about the new shipment!" Herb huffed, shoved the phone to May whom by now had stood next to him. May took the phone and went into the kitchen.

Airin swallowed a large chunk of saliva. "Sorry, Dad, one of my students was ..."

"Shut up, Airin! Your teaching was done at 3:30PM, correct? What was the delay for? They'd better pay you extra for the extra time with those kids!"

Airin swallowed back her words, bit her tongue, a technique Mom taught her to calm down when talking with Dad. "I am sorry," she whispered, trying not to further provoke Dad.

Dad was never one to filter his words, and she did not want to be the receiving end those unfiltered trash. It always gave her massive headache afterwards as she, albeit unwillingly, processed those words and tried to do away with them from her head. She always failed to do away with those words, in fact those words became even more deeply etched in her mind, and new ones were piled on top of the old ones. They rotted, but refused to be forgotten.

Dad sighed, massaged his temple, and nodded a couple slow nods. "Fine. Just don't be late tomorrow, okay? We have a light night tonight, but tomorrow there will be the mayor and his extended family. His wedding anniversary dinner party. Something like that."

Airin nodded.

Dad huffed, ran his fingers through his gelled hair, stood still for a couple seconds before turning his back and going back into the kitchen, leaving Airin in half-frozen state as she collected her thought.

The room seemed to get smaller now and she felt a throbbing headache. A couple long, deep breaths and she felt slightly better, at least the room stopped contracting smaller.

She did not feel sad or angry. In fact she felt nothing much at this point. Her body froze when Dad got into his pissy mode, and that seemed so normal for her. Like a turtle maybe, it just hid its head within the comfort of its shell when something bad was going on out in the world.

She went about like a zombie as she folded the napkins, prepared the cutleries and arranged them on each of the tables.

Her head was heavy, but she decided not to bother anyone with it. Her hands kept working, her mind was blank as she went on an autopilot mode. Once in a while, a quick flash of memory of the things her students did that day brought a faint smile on her face.

Xueling protected Sammy today during outdoor playtime when Sammy got scared of some screaming kids who tried to roughtumble him.

Allie and Jasmine got into an altercation over a Barbie doll.

Jamie forgot his plushie and his mom sprinted back home to pick it up.

Robbie wet his pants for the second time this week.

Farjana's new pencil broke and she had the biggest meltdown of the century.

Juan recognized his own name in alphabet and insisted Miss Airin video him doing it one more time to show his abuela (grandma), the only parent he had.

Tasha came and hugged her before she went home and said thank you for the best day, best birthday, ever. And that she was the best teacher. Ever.

Airin stopped her napkin folding, stared at the pile of napkins she just finished folding into a diagonal style fold, an idea came to her as she snapped back from her autopilot folding napkin mode to fully conscious Airin.

Next week, she would teach her students how to fold crane from colorful folding paper.

Origami would be a nice after lunch activity for the kids. She was about eight when Mom taught her how to fold a crane, a symbol of happiness and longevity.

After Airin had mastered the crane, Mom taught her how to fold goldfish, crocodile, frog, butterfly, bear, and also different kinds of flowers and hearts.

Mom was always so gentle, so meticulous in the way she folded the papers. "Look, Ai, each of these folds may look messy now, upside down, inside out, but each is an important part of the next step. You can't get a crane without making sure you get these folds correctly. These messy folds will give rise to a beautiful crane," Mama said to her and Airin realized now how she missed being called Ai! Ai means love in Mandarin. Mom spoke fluent Cantonese, her mother tongue, and Mandarin.

A smile broke on her face, and Airin finished her napkin folding. She decided to go see Dad in his office, a small windowless room at the back of the kitchen. Maybe Dad knew where Mom had put her stack of colorful origami papers, something she had not even thought about since Mom's death and her move out of their family home.

She rushed past the double door into the kitchen, three assistant chefs nodded at her direction, then were busy again with their task. She nodded back, smiled, and kept walking past row of kitchen sink on one side, and stove tops with jumbo-sized wok on the other side.

Kitchen hummed alive with activities, shouts of updates as to what had been done and what still needed to be done were heard from different corners. Neat piles of colorful paprika already cut up, onions, garlic, were on top of two chopping boards next the the sink. A high pile of fresh bokchoy already washed next to the boards.

She made a right turn at the back of the kitchen, to a small, dimly-lit hallway, and she saw Dad. And May.

Dad and May. Liplocking. Dad's meaty hands were all over May's waist and butt. The passion in their kiss made it looked like they were trying to swallow each other's head.

Airin froze.