5 | My Name Is Lila

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Vietnamese drama plays in the background

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Vietnamese drama plays in the background. Considering the fact that I was in the middle of my mother's workspace while doing homework, I couldn't complain that the only audio I'm hearing is loosely written love confessions and dramatic music. But, using this once in a week opportunity to spend time with my mom is the best I'm going to get. Even if that means doing AP Calculus homework at the breakfast table.

The one other distracting thing of this situation is the fact my mother cooks amazing dishes. And their scent causes my mouth to water. Sometimes there's benefits to studying in the kitchen—like being the first to taste-test—and some disadvantages to working there—like the smell. The delicious smell.

"Con đang làm gì vậy? [What are you doing?]" My mother asks as she stirs the pot. I look up from my worksheet, noticing my mother standing tall as she offers me a kind smile. Her full lips pulled into a soft smile as her eyes breaks contact to look towards the scatter of notebooks and textbooks.

"Con đang học bài. [I'm doing my homework.]" I explain, dropping the pencil from my fingers. I then attach my hand into one another, pulling my arms back over my head in a stretch.

"Học bài gì? [What type of homework?]"

"Toán. [Math.]"

"Có khó không? [Is it difficult?]" She asks, another glance towards my direction before returning back to focus on the pot. The thing about my mother is that she doesn't press me about my grades—snatch away my phone or my technology because I don't do well in school. She offers empathy, and offers suggestions to help better my education. Other times, she just asks from curiosity. She knows her limitations on where and how to help me, especially in the field of advanced math degrees she never got to experienced.

I shake my head. "Không. Chị phải con nghĩ nhiều thôi. [Not really. I just have a lot to think about.]" I explained, "Má đang nấu gì vậy? [Mom, what are you cooking?]"

"Banh canh." She answers and my eyes widen. It's been a while since I had banh canh, my favorite Vietnamese cuisine. Banh canh is a thick noodle soup with fishcake and crab. Since my mother was born in Hue, she makes it a bit differently than people in Saigon. From what she tells me, Hue people makes the best Vietnamese dishes as a general term. Or that's just her bias speaking.

"Má gần xong chưa? [Mom, are you almost done?]" My lack of focus is now drawn to the fact that my favorite dish is being cooked less than three metre away from me.

"Học xong cái đã xinh để nói sao. [Finish your homework and then we'll talk.]" She smiles cheekily, revealing her straight teeth she obtained over braces in her twenties.

"Damn, mom," I mumble under my breath, chuckling as she turns off the gas for the pot. "Má gần xong rồi! Mà nó láo cho con! [Mom, you're almost done! You lied to me!]"

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