Why Does Amy Tan'S Fish Cheeks & Sarah Vowell'S The First Thanksgiving Compare The Two Stories?

To transfer my sister, Suri Voss, who was 13 years younger than I was, to a new school district, I took 7 days of annual leave and went back to my hometown. I pulled strings, delivered gifts, called in favors, and finally forced a spot for her in the best middle school in the city. At last, when I could pause long enough to catch my breath, I told Mom, who was heading out to buy groceries, that I wanted grilled pork ribs for dinner. Suri walked over with a cold expression, then threw a full glass of icy water straight onto my head and pointed at my face as she exploded. "You country leech, mooching off our family for years, eating our food and living in our house whenever you feel like it. I let all that slide. Now you want to steal my mom too? Do you have any shame at all?! "Listen carefully, Mom only has one child. She will only ever love me!" I stood there, stunned. Suri had no idea I was Mom’s biological daughter, too. All this time, she had treated me as some freeloading relative. I looked toward the doorway, where Mom was changing her shoes to go out. She seemed not to have heard a single word of Suri’s disrespect. She merely said casually, "Suri doesn’t like ribs. Let’s have grilled shrimp instead." She had forgotten that I’ve been severely allergic to seafood since childhood. I lowered my head and let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. Unbeknownst to them, if I could secure Suri a place in that school, I could just as easily make sure she lost it.

Robert Blackwell promised to marry me, then postponed it thirty-eight times. The fifth time, a car crash broke eight of his ribs, and I signed seven critical-condition notices. The tenth time, on the way to get our marriage license, he and the car were thrown into the sea, and his suit was torn apart by sharks. By the thirty-eighth time, his heart disease had worsened and his life was hanging by a thread. Eight months pregnant, I changed flights three times and flew twenty-three hours across half the world to find him. When the door opened, a little boy who looked exactly like him lifted his face and said, "I thought Mom was back." Robert rushed out barefoot, panic written all over his face. I turned around and saw my best friend of twelve years standing behind me with a key in her hand. The little boy ran to her and threw himself into her arms, calling her Mom. So the fiance I had waited seven years for was my best friend's secret husband all along. "I will not wait through these thirty-eight near-death weddings anymore." "Robert, I do not want you either."

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

When my brother Beau Campbell and I drowned together at the age of four, I was the only one who survived. From that day on, my mother came to loathe me. She would often creep into my room at night with colorful "candies" in her hand, trying to pry open my mouth. However, Dad always stopped her just in time. Later, I cut off my long hair and threw away all my dresses, desperately trying to become Beau's shadow. Only then would Mom spare me a glance. Three years passed, and Mom got pregnant again. She said it was Beau coming back to us. I was happy for her and told myself it was good that Beau was back. After all, it also meant this family no longer needed the stand-in who had lived in his place. So, I found the same "candies" Mom once tried to force into my mouth, and I quietly swallowed them.

In my previous life, my younger sister, Amy Lockwood, was sexually assaulted. When I wanted to file a police report, she adamantly refused to let me do so. She even stroked her belly lovingly and said something that blew my mind. "H-He was drunk. He didn't mean to do it. What if his life gets ruined because you reported him to the police? You shouldn't be so heartless!" Later on, Amy poisoned my food and nearly killed me just so she could run off with her assailant. However, my mother kept telling me not to hold it against her. This time around, I decide to be as heartless as I can possibly be.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.