I was three hours into a wedding invitation suite — like, the fussy kind with vellum overlays and hand-torn edges — when Second Aunt suggested using traditional Chinese medicine to solve a problem involving a dead body, and I laughed so hard I dragged my stylus clean across the artboard. Had to undo like six times. Frida jumped off the desk. Diego didn't even flinch. (Diego has seen things.)
So here's the thing about Dial A for Aunties: it is genuinely, absurdly funny. Not "oh that's clever" funny. Belly-laugh-while-you're-supposed-to-be-working funny. And I wasn't expecting it to also make me feel things? But it did. Because underneath the Weekend at Bernie's meets My Big Fat Greek Wedding chaos, there's this whole beating heart about what it means to have a family that drives you absolutely bananas but would literally help you hide a body. Literally.
The Aunties Gave Me Abuela Flashbacks and I Wasn't Ready
Okay so — Meddy's family. Her Ma and the four aunties. They are EVERYTHING. Each one has her own brand of meddling, her own specialty (Big Aunt's buttercream flowers, Second Aunt's traditional remedies, Fourth Aunt's dramatics), and together they form this unstoppable wall of love-disguised-as-control that hit me right in the chest. Because that's exactly what it's like. My abuela didn't help me dispose of a corpse (as far as you know), but the way these women just... take over? That quiet devastation wrapped in family noise is something I also found in Have You Seen Luis Velez? — a much gentler book, but one that understands how love hides inside ordinary gestures. The way they decide the plan and you're just along for the ride and somehow it works out? That's every family gathering I've ever been to. The cultural specifics are Chinese-Indonesian instead of Mexican, but the energy? Universal immigrant family chaos. Abuela would have loved this one. She would've been shouting at Big Aunt through the speaker like it was a telenovela.
The romance between Meddy and her ex Nathan is sweet — maybe a little predictable, but it works because the book isn't really about the romance. It's about Meddy figuring out who she is when she stops letting her family make every decision for her. The chemistry is chef's kiss in the quieter moments, like when they're reminiscing about college and you can hear Meddy's walls come down. But I'll be honest: I cried exactly once, and it was during a scene about Ma and Meddy, not the love interest. The mother-daughter stuff is where the emotional gut-punch lives.
Risa Mei — Let's Have the Honest Conversation
Here's where I have to be real with you. Risa Mei's narration is... a mixed bag for me. Her comedic timing? Excellent. She lands the aunties' bickering with this rapid-fire energy that genuinely enhances the humor — like, I don't think reading this on the page would've hit the same way. She gives each auntie a different vocal texture, and I could always tell who was talking, which matters when you've got four opinionated women yelling over each other.
But. Her default voice for Meddy skews young. Like, noticeably young. Meddy's supposed to be a grown woman running a wedding business and navigating a complicated romantic history, and sometimes she sounds like she's narrating a YA novel. It didn't ruin anything for me, but it pulled me out of a few of the more emotionally heavy moments. And I've seen people absolutely hate the accent work for the older characters — I didn't think it was as bad as some reviews say, but if you're sensitive to that kind of thing, fair warning. It's not Julia Whelan-level subtlety. (But then again, what is?)
Compared to something like Emily Henry's Beach Read — which, yes, Emily Henry herself blurbed this book — the emotional depth here is lighter. Beach Read made me cry four separate times. This book made me laugh probably forty times and cry once. Different muscles. Both good workouts.
Who This Is Really For (and Who Should Maybe Skip)
This is a rainy Sunday book if your rainy Sunday involves cackling at your phone and texting your cousins "THIS IS US" every twenty minutes. If you want a rom-com that's heavy on the com and light on the rom, with a genuinely wild premise that somehow holds together through sheer auntie willpower — yes. Go. Listen at 1.0x so you catch every ridiculous escalation.
If you need deep emotional devastation? If you want a romance that consumes you? This isn't that book. And if narrator voice age is a dealbreaker for you, maybe try a sample first.
But honestly? I needed this. I'd been on a streak of heavy literary fiction that was eating me alive, and Dial A for Aunties was like someone handing me a plate of food I didn't ask for but desperately needed. Which — yeah. That's exactly what an auntie would do.
My heart. Not broken this time. Just... full.
