Two days after our wedding, I received a call from my dad, "Alan, you and Winnie should come spend time with the family."
With our long-distance relatives still in town, he organized a trip to our nearby beach, a two-hour drive from our home in Texas. The wedding had left us little time to breathe, let alone connect with extended family. A beach day sounded perfect as a chance to catch up with them and to soak in some sun.
The next morning, we met up with my family late after dawn. My dad had rented two large passenger vans to haul everyone around. The men piled into one van, while Winnie hopped into the other with the women and children. My dad took the wheel of our van, while I squeezed into the back row beside Uncle Don from Canada, an uncle by marriage. The rest of the crew was a rowdy mix, three local uncles, my dad's two cousins from California, and Uncle Long from Australia, who Winnie had spent some time with on a previous trip.
Vietnamese men, especially elders, turn into a different breed when they get together. The van filled with their crude banter and dirty jokes as they swapped stories about women. I tried to stay out of it, but they wanted to include me in their fun.
"Alan oi, you're one of us now!" Uncle Don bellowed, his English thick with a playful edge.
"Your wife so pretty, eh? How you get her to marry you?" His grin was all teeth, a teasing jab at my average looks compared to Winnie's exotic beauty.
I shrugged, a shy smile tugging at my lips, and launched into the story of how we met as high school sweethearts.
My dad's cousin, a hefty guy with a big belly spilling over his belt, leaned in. "So, what, you only been with her and no one else?" His eyebrows shot up, incredulous.
"Yeah..." I mumbled sheepishly.
Uncle Don clapped me on the shoulder. "It's fine, man! Fucking a girl like Winnie is more than enough!"
The van erupted in chuckles. Uncle Don, known as the family pervert, wasn't done. "She good in the bedroom, right? C'mon, tell us!"
"That's private, Uncle," I said, my voice firm but wavering. My dad's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching mine for a split second as a silent warning.
Uncle Don pressed on, undeterred. "Oh, come on! I hear she wild! You sure you can handle a woman like that?"
His tone was all mischief, and I wondered what gossip my other uncles had fed him. Winnie's playful side wasn't exactly a secret among family, but I wasn't about to fuel his fire. I let the question hang, unanswered.
When we finally rolled up to the beach, the breeze hit me like a wave of relief. Everyone spilled out, lugging coolers and bags, while Winnie tugged me aside.
"I need to change," she whispered quietly.
I nodded, suggesting she use the van once it emptied out. Alone at last, she dug into her bag and pulled out a bikini, the one I'd bought for our upcoming honeymoon to Jamaica. An aqua Malibu Strings micro-bikini, all skimpy triangles and a thong bottom that left little to the imagination. My stomach dropped.
"Did you bring anything else?" I asked nervously.
She tilted her head, lips tight, "Nope! This is all I packed."
Her tone was light, clueless, like she didn't see the problem. Winnie had this naive streak and always had, but I figured she'd at least packed something modest for a family outing. She slipped it on, the thin fabric clinging to her curves, the thong exposing the smooth cheeks of her backside. My heart raced, a mix of nerves and something else I didn't want to say.
We stepped out of the van, and heads turned our way. A pickup truck rumbled by, and the guys in the back let out sharp whistles, their eyes glued to Winnie. My family was already sprawled across the sand, and when we joined them, there was only akward silence. The women froze mid-conversation while the men just stared, jaws slack, as Winnie sauntered over in her barely-there bikini. She giggled, oblivious, and skipped off to join the aunties and children splashing in the waves, leaving me with the uncles and their beers.
I plopped down beside my dad, cracking open a can as tension simmered. He leaned in, his voice low and edged with unease. "Alan, why you let her wear that?"
His face tensed, lines sharpening across his brow. He wasn't thrilled about his new daughter-in-law parading around like that, especially not in front of our traditional Vietnamese family. Before I could answer, the uncles pounced.
"She looks naked!" one barked, his eyes wide.
Another chimed in, "Just like them girls in Playboy!"
Uncle Long tried to smooth it over. "It's fine, mate. That's what they all wear in Australia."
But Uncle Don was by far the worst, "For a skinny girl, she got big tits!" he hollered loudly.
The men snickered, my dad shifting uncomfortably beside me.
Uncle Don wasn't done. "She double D, eh?"
I shouldn't have answered, but I did, voice barely audible. "Yeah, D cup."
He grinned, mangling his next line. "Good enough for tidididy fuck!" fumbling his words in English.
I corrected him without thinking, "You mean titty fuck," earning a roar of laughter.
Then Winnie came back, dripping from the ocean, and the mood shifted again. The water had turned her bikini sheer, the dark circles of her nipples peeking through like a secret unveiled. She stood there, toweling off, bending innocently, or so I thought, giving the uncles an eyeful. My dad's frown deepened, but Winnie just plopped down beside us, grabbing a beer. She was fluent in Vietnamese, unlike my broken attempts, and the men lit up, chatting with her.
Uncle Don, predictably, went there again. "Why you wear so sexy, eh? Don't mind us uncles looking?"
Winnie batted her lashes, her voice a teasing melody. "You can look, but you can't touch!"
The men hooted, delighted by her sassiness.
Another uncle grinned. "Only Alan can touch, right?"
She didn't answer, but just flashed a cheeky smirk that made my pulse quicken.
But Uncle Don pushed further. "Why your boobs look like they full of milk?"
The question was so absurd, but got everyone's eyes zeroed in on her chest.
Winnie giggled playfully. "No milk yet, Uncle. Or they'd be even bigger."
Her tone was almost daring, and the men guffawed, until the aunties returned, cutting their interrogation short. She hopped up to help with lunch, her thong covered backside swaying as she went, the uncles' gazes trailing nonstop.
After we ate, I dragged Winnie down the beach for a talk.
