The Art of Being Single

Chapter 13

You are reading The Misadventures of Endora Pan, a romantic comedy exploring the unpredictable nature of love and the chaos of everyday life. Set in the world of a young Taiwanese-American woman, this story delves into themes of self-discovery, cultural identity, and finding connection in unexpected places. Written in a witty, self-aware style, this novel is for readers looking for a light-hearted yet emotional read.

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While the children distracted themselves with donuts filled to bursting with the most delicious, artery-clogging donuts known to man, the three adults looked on with a mixture of delight and disgust. Tiffany had gotten another bite of said donut and turned her attention back to Endora.

“I see you fixed your pants.”

Endora groaned and laughed. “Okay, you know what? It was dark and I was in a rush. And they’re leggings.”

Tiffany tugged at Marius’s sleeve. “Endora put her pants on backwards. I would say, ‘Can you believe it?’ But it’s her, so yeah, we can believe it.”

“They’re leggings!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s understandable,” Marius said in his mellow way, leaning with his elbows on the kitchen counter, donut in one hand and phone in the other (which isn’t new in these story-regaling moments, the narrator must interject).

Endora waved her hand gesturing at her ally. “See? Leggings and darkness and rush. Understandable.”

But Tiffany continued to chuckle. “Well, I still wrote it down in my notes for future reference. I’ll give it as a gift to your future husband.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Welcome.”

Tiffany poured milk for Morgan and Colin, then plopped down next to Morgan’s high chair. “Speaking of which, another blind date set-up, huh?”

Colin piped up. “I can spell ‘blind.’ B-l-i—”

“Colin, 嘴巴有東西不要講話 (don’t talk with food in your mouth)” said Marius without looking up.

“Yeah, I dunno. I guess I’m open to it, but the last few were so disastrous.” Endora navigated her way around the kitchen with ease as she pulled out the large pot she was looking for and started filling it up with water. “I’m just gonna be single forever.”

Tiffany wiped Morgan’s hands and face before freeing the toddler from her chair. “Nothing wrong with that, honey.”

“You can always live with us!” Colin shouted, mimicking what he’d heard a thousand times from this oft-repeated conversation.

You see, what happens in many Christian churches (particularly the Asian-American kind), is the spoken and unspoken pressure for singles to marry. Once a certain threshold has been surpassed—say, mid-thirties—congregants start to look at you funny. The “young adult” group no longer applies to you. After all, those are for the actually young adults. You know, those between fresh-out-of-college and newly-engaged-at-25. You don’t belong in the “young families” groups either, being—without a family.

The well-meaning grannies and aunties in church come to you after service with their concerns about your ticking biological clock, as though that was God’s sole purpose for creating you.

“Remember what I said after that random acquaintance auntie told you you only have a few good years left? Fuck those people trying to make you feel lesser than just because they’re not living the life they think you should be living,” Tiffany said (“My love, language!” Marius hissed, shooting a look at Colin). “You’re living a perfectly full life—”

“And I’m not even old yet!” wailed Endora.

“Yeah you’re not even old!”

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by Morgan’s babbling as she pulled her toy dog around the kitchen island and Colin trying to talk to her now that he was done with his own snack. Endora turned back to her pot of water, now steaming. Despite the talk of blind dates and church aunties, she felt her shoulders relax. Here, at least, was a place where she could just be.