Chapter 11
My sister, Nina, was right when she predicted my future. I balance stacked dishes in my arms and distractedly set plates around the outdoor dining table. Against the olive tree in my parents’ yard, teal balloons are tied together to create the shape of a crescent blue moon. Opaque white and silver glass candle votives are scattered on the tables and deck railings. Mom wrangles with the streamers while Nina finishes lighting the candles.
“What’s with Dad’s apron?” Nina asks. We all turn our heads toward Dad, who’s rocking a Scottish and Proud tartan apron at the grill.
“Don’t get me started,” Mom says with a laugh. “He’s been going down the rabbit hole of his ancestry.”
Pó Po brings over a box of silver mesh bags. “This is looking lovely,” she says, looking around the backyard. “Olivia, will you please help me bag up some cookies?”
I haven’t been alone with Pó Po in over a week. This will be my opportunity to talk to her about Bennett. And her alleged incompatible match. I pull out a chair for Pó Po to sit in at the table, and she shows me how she wants the cookies packaged.
“So this is basically the wedding shower, right?” I ask, dodging what I really need to say.
Pó Po looks up from the stack of cookies and smiles. “It’s kind of like that. The tradition is that the groom’s family sends pastries and cookies to the bride’s family. Marriage is about the bonding of the couple, but also of our families and ancestors.”
“I like that,” I say. “I had never heard of it before.”
Pó Po takes a moment to restack some of the misplaced pastries. “It’s not easy to keep traditions alive when you’re far from family. But over time, traditions, and the way they’re celebrated, are adapted. Isn’t it great knowing about it and enjoying it in our own way?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Aren’t traditions traditions because they stay the same?”
“Liv, life is not all or nothing, and traditions are better alive in one form or another than nonexistent.”
I place two cookies into a bag and pull the strings tight. “Like Lunar Love,” I say.
“No one would hire me when I moved here,” she continues. “I barely spoke any English and had three kids. I could’ve kept Lunar Love the way it was, but it wouldn’t have worked. I had to adapt.”
“How’d you keep it all together?” I ask.
“You just keep going. Make the best decisions that you can at the time,” Pó Po shares. “It was quite the culture shock. Even with the kids wanting to live a more traditional American life.”
“Yet you still got Auntie hooked on the zodiac,” I say.
Pó Po laughs. “I did, but your mother was surprisingly stubborn for a Dog. And your Uncle Rupert was too absorbed with his dinosaurs to care about any other animal. It’s no wonder he chose paleontology over matchmaking.” She shrugs. “Lunar Love was my life. This never came up when you were transitioning to take the lead, but I hope you know this legacy doesn’t have to be yours.”
I stop mid-tie to look up at Pó Po. “I—I love Lunar Love and matchmaking. Why would you think that I don’t?”
“I just want you to know that you’re never stuck. You’re independent, and working in the family business might sometimes feel counterintuitive. Lydia felt that way at times. There was a point she almost walked away.”
“I didn’t know that,” I say, searching my memory for conversations Auntie and I may have had about her wanting to leave Lunar Love behind.
“Oh, well, that’s a story for a different day.” She pulls a bag’s strings as tight as she can.
“I’m not giving up on Lunar Love,” I say. If Pó Po was able to create a successful business out of nothing, surely I can build off the solid foundation she constructed.
“I’m happy to hear that. You were presented with a challenge to overcome. Is everything going okay? I may have some savings that I can put toward whatever you need at Lunar Love.”
“No, no! Don’t eat into your retirement fund. I’m handling it,” I reassure her.
Pó Po reaches over to tap my hand. “Remember, where there’s a negative, there’s always a positive. Now, tell me. Have you given any more thought to the gentleman Auntie introduced you to over email?”
“The one with a ten-year strategy? I appreciate a well-thought plan but that’s a bit much.” This man, like all the others Auntie tries to pair me with, is compatible to my Horse sign. I also know from her email that he’s a doctor and an off-hours tennis buff.
“She vetted him herself. Maybe he can be your plus one to Nina’s wedding. His Tiger is a match to your Horse. A Fire Tiger, too. His optimism might rub off on you. And he plans on being a heart doctor. You’d both have something in common,” Pó Po offers.
“How can I say no to Dr. Love-Fifteen? Pretty easily, actually. I can see it now. All those long hours he’s away will give us distance that will make us appreciate each other, but when he’s back, he’ll drag me to the courts to be his doubles partner so he can exhaust his nervous energy.”
“This man is compatible to you, and you’re still not interested.” Pó Po sighs. “Careful, Liv. Your heart’s been broken, but it’s stronger than you think. Isn’t it time you make room for someone new?”
“You know my resistance isn’t because I don’t believe in love. I’d rather focus on finding love for others, not myself, that’s all,” I tell her.
When Pó Po lost Gōng Gong, she never remarried, and Auntie’s still single. They poured themselves into matchmaking and leaned into their independence. Maybe that’s the fate of those who lead Lunar Love. I had my great love. Or at least what I thought was love. Maybe that was it for me, and now, like the women before me, it’s time to focus on work.
“Lunar Love comes first,” I add. I decide to finally say what I need to get off my chest. “Speaking of Lunar Love, I heard something interesting the other day.”
“Hmm?” Pó Po hums as she diligently packs, ties, packs, ties.
“I met someone who had already somehow known who I was. Because of you. And it turns out you had matched his parents.”
Pó Po’s small hands come to an abrupt stop.
“But he says that his parents were incompatible. Which I told him couldn’t be true,” I continue. “But is it true?”
“The O’Briens,” Pó Po finally says softly. “You were out on a Singles Scouting when Bennett came to find me about a year ago.”
“A year ago?” I interrupt. “You’ve been hiding what could potentially destroy Lunar Love from me for a year?”
Pó Po’s thin, lined eyebrows furrow. “Destroy Lunar Love? With his little app?” She scoffs. “Matchmaking is more than just swiping. There are so many people using these apps, how do you sort through everyone? You can’t trust what or who people claim to be online. Hands-on matchmaking services are dependable. Safe.”
“I know this,” I say, “but that didn’t stop the guy you shared confidential information with.”
Pó Po smiles. “Lunar Love has been through it all. Don’t worry.”
The advice is vague at best. “Please, continue,” I say, choosing not to fight it. Her calmness about this is mystifying.
Pó Po fidgets with a loose string. “Bennett learned through his mother’s journals that later, after she was married, her birth year wasn’t what she had believed all along. Her birthday and year on the birth certificate had been recorded incorrectly, since she had been born just one day after the Lunar New Year.”
“So she was a Borderliner,” I say, referring to a term we use to call people whose birthdays fall so close to the days of a different animal sign that some of the traits blend.
Pó Po nods. “The years had been mixed up. His mother spent her entire life believing she was born in the year of an animal she actually wasn’t. This affected the matching.”
So she did make an incompatible match. Like I did. But the reasoning behind hers is understandable. Borderliners can be very tricky.
“He said his parents were happy,” I say, reassuring her.
“It was a sloppy mistake,” she says as though she’s scolding herself.
“It was an accident. It’s not like you purposely made an incompatible match. That’d be a different story,” I justify.
“What you did was an accident, too, Liv,” Pó Po says in a soothing tone. “You did what you thought was best for your friend at the time. We can’t always make perfect, blissful matches.”
I wrinkle my eyebrows. “You warned me but I didn’t listen. At least yours resulted in a successful marriage.”
Brightness returns to her face. “Bennett’s parents were good together, incompatible or otherwise.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him? He knew about me,” I ask. “You never hide things from me.”
“I was ashamed about his parents’ match,” she says. “And you never cared much about the men I bring up to you. How is Bennett different than Mr. Love-Fifteen?”
“He just is,” I say after a moment.
“He knows about you because I talked about you. How could I not?” Pó Po says. “I’m sorry that you were caught by surprise, but everyone’s entitled to their own secrets every now and then.”
I have a million more questions but I sense she wants to drop it. I’ve already questioned her enough. Pó Po goes to her room to rest before the festivities pick up while I bundle the bagged cookies together and bring them to the front entrance for guests to grab on their way out. More friends and family have started to arrive, evidenced by the growing stack of shoes in the entryway. A knot in my stomach forms at the anticipation of having to field questions about Lunar Love and if I’ve managed to save it yet.
“Olivia! Can you grab this?” Dad asks as I pass by the kitchen. With a plate of raw meat balanced in one hand, he hands me a plate of cheddar cheese slices that have been individually shaped with a cookie cutter to be perfectly round. “Moon cheese. I paid extra for expedited shipping. The fee was astronomical!” He laughs at his own joke.
“Looks good,” I say to Dad, following him back out to the grill.
“Everything all right?” Dad asks when I don’t even pity laugh.
“Oh, yeah. I just have a lot on my mind. Nice apron, by the way.”
“You like it? It’s the exact tartan pattern of our family clan from Scotland,” he explains. “I had it custom-made. Let me know if you want one.” He nudges a burger patty so it lines up evenly with the others.
Dad places the plate of rounded burger meat onto the grill’s side table. “You want a Full Moon Burger Special?” he asks, flipping his metal spatula into the air, barely catching it. I narrowly dodge the spinning utensil.
“Definitely. Medium rare, please. I’ll be back for it.” I pat Dad on the shoulder and make my way over to the dessert table where I see Nina and Asher, Nina’s fiancé, lingering.
“Do we have enough food?” Nina asks us, fidgeting with her sapphire engagement ring.
“There’s four platters of wife cake, walnut cookies, sponge cake, Chinese shortbread, two trays of chocolate cake, a plate of macarons, two bowls of fruit, a box of doughnuts, burgers, chips, drinks…I think there’s plenty,” I say.
“If we run out, I’ll go whip up a fresh batch of cookies myself,” Asher says reassuringly. He rubs Nina’s shoulders.
“Okay,” she says, exhaling a relaxed sigh. She adjusts one of the plates so that it’s angled closer to the tray. “Thanks, Ash.”
Mom joins us with two cookie cakes. “Grandma and Grandpa sent these for you. They told me to tell you that they’re sorry they can’t make it, but they’re looking forward to seeing you at the wedding.”
“Well, there we go! More food. Problem solved,” Asher says with a smile. “Let’s get this party started. Drinks, ladies?”
“Just a little bit of wine, please,” Nina says. “Don’t go wild with it.”
Asher, a Universal Studios tour guide, raises his eyebrows. “Speaking of wild, did you know that Psycho was the first American film to show a toilet flushing on screen?”
“A real toilet?” I ask, pretending that this is the first time he’s told me this fun fact. He must be working overtime on his comedic timing.
“Just go,” Nina says, gently pushing Asher toward the beverages.
We look around the backyard, which looks like a galaxy of blue and white decorations.
“You really went all out with the Over the Moon theme,” she observes. “I didn’t know there were pumpkins on the moon.”
I nod. “Only when it’s feeling festive. Everyone agreed that we should go big since you’re planning a courthouse wedding.”
“Whoa. I’ll officially be married in two weeks!” Nina says dreamily.
“Asher’s a lucky guy. I’m glad his family was able to join us today.”
“Can you believe Pó Po allowed it? You know how selective she is about traditions. She’s not ready to let me go, I guess.”
“It’s not like you’re going off to live with his family, never to return,” I say. “Unless you are, then…” I move my hands up and down as though I’m weighing the options.
Nina grabs me by the arm. “Hey, let’s go to The Spaceship.”
“Right now? Don’t you have to mingle?” I ask.
“I just need a minute.” Nina leads the way to the front yard and climbs up the ladder of our treehouse. Dad built it for us when we were young enough to believe that the structure had magical powers. Now we just like to pretend that it does. We named it The Spaceship because it took us on journeys beyond our wildest imaginations.
“Can this thing still support both of us?” I call up to her.
“If not, we go down together!” she yells back.
I grip each bar tightly and slowly climb the ladder, pressing my body against the metal rungs. “Remember when we used to play up here and pretend we were flying to the moon?” I ask, finally making it up the ladder. The treehouse floor is patterned by the shadows of the tree branches, creating a thousand different ever-changing shapes.
“It was just us and the stars and that parrot that would never stop squawking,” Nina says. She leans back against one of the treehouse’s walls. I join her on the floor.
Nina pulls out a little red box from the pocket of her dress. “I got you something. Just a little maid of honor gift, even though there’s technically not going to be bridesmaids.”
“No! Today’s supposed to be about you!” I pop open the lid, revealing a little gold horse charm. “Thank you! It’s so pretty!” I string it onto my necklace so it dangles next to the moon pendant.
“I know you don’t agree with compatibility, but Asher’s the one for me. It’s like you with baking.” When she says the word baking, I think she’s about to say Bennett and my entire body breaks out in a light sweat. “When all the ingredients are mixed together, it tastes as it should.”
I look into Nina’s round eyes, her short dark lashes curled. “You don’t have to convince me,” I say. “I think you two are great together. Why are you even mentioning it? I thought you don’t believe in compatibility or the Chinese zodiac.”
Like Mom, Nina wanted to do something completely different than the family business. Her interest in the zodiac didn’t stick like it did for me. The irony with Mom is that she married someone compatible to her Dog sign.
“But you do. And Pó Po and Auntie do. I know you all worry that I’m going to end up with someone who I compete with all the time because we care too much about our own opinions.” Nina tucks a light brown strand of hair behind her ears.
“Sounds like someone’s been doing research,” I say.
“I may have flipped through one of Pó Po’s zodiac books,” she admits. “It was a little nerve-wracking seeing all those traits laid out like that.”
“And you worry we’ll think that you’ll have to compromise too much and that you’ll be too critical of each other because you’re both Roosters?” I ask.
She angles her head. “Something like that. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, but I also believe that Asher and I, while yes, we have our differences, are supposed to be together.”
“You only disappoint me when you’re late for our brunch dates,” I joke.
She laughs. “But you have to admit that you didn’t agree with our relationship at first,” she says. “I don’t want to feel like I’m betraying my family by not marrying someone who isn’t a match in the way you all believe.”
“Betraying is a strong word. The family just wants you to be happy. That’s what matters.”
“I hope so,” she says.
“The zodiac helps us understand ourselves and our partners. It’s like Pó Po said, life is not all or nothing.” I lift a fallen, waxy leaf and turn it between my fingers. “At first, yes,” I continue, “I was hesitant about the incompatibility. My life’s purpose is to help people find their compatible partners. And I know firsthand how incompatible boyfriends can turn out. But now that I’ve gotten to know Asher and have seen you two together over the years, there’s no question in my mind that you were meant to be.”
“You promise?” Nina asks.
I nod. “Asher’s confident and fights for what he wants. You’re considerate and take the time to make sure things are done the right way. Sure, you might butt heads every now and then, but I see two people who are strong individuals who are even stronger together. If there were blockers that you both felt you couldn’t get past, that would be a different story.”
“Mmm,” Nina groans and leans her head up to face the sky. “You don’t sound like you. You can’t really believe all that.”
“I believe in compatibility, and I want you to be happy. You’re my sister and my best friend. You’re the exception.” I give Nina a light nudge on her knee.
She gives me a small smile. “It must be nice to have guidelines for yourself. Love is so messy.”
I laugh humorlessly. “Want to know a secret?” I draw in a quick breath. “Sometimes I envy your freedom of not being tethered to the confines of the zodiac.”
Nina reaches out to hold my forearm. “Olivia, neither are you.”
I make a disbelieving face.
“You’ve always been determined,” she continues. “You act tough, but you’re a romantic. Love is your oxygen. Maybe you need to put your mask on first before helping others.”
My phone lights up with a text message, and I quickly pick it up. I tap into a text from Asshole, a code name I assigned to Bennett in case anyone looks at my phone when a message comes through. An uncontrollable smile spreads across my face.
We moved up the product launch just so I could use it to find you the best match possible. Get ready for a good time.
“What’s that smirk for? Was it something Asshole said?” Nina asks, her voice thick with curiosity.
“It’s just spam,” I say offhandedly.
“Yeah, right. And don’t tell me it’s a client. You are way too professional to name a client Asshole in your phone.”
“Fine. His name is Bennett,” I answer after a long pause. “He’s the founder of ZodiaCupid, Lunar Love’s new competitor. I tried to gain intel from him at a baking class. It’s a long story that I don’t want to get into now, but trust me when I say it’s nothing.”
Nina stares at me with a look of surprise and amusement. “It’s nothing, but he’s texting you? Bennett,” Nina says, trying out how the name sounds. “What are you, dating or something? The irony.”
“Please. When’s the last time I went on a date?”
“Uh, sounds like when you went to this baking class,” Nina says, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world.
I balk. “That wasn’t a real date. I don’t have time to spend on anyone with all the work I have. The to-do list never ends.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t let your need to get ahead stand in the way of love.”
“Isn’t success ultimately more satisfying?” I ask, half joking.
“How very American of you. You know the two aren’t mutually exclusive, right?” Nina asks. “If you want, you can totally bring him to the wedding!”
“Not you, too!”
Nina laughs. “Sorry! Maybe Pó Po’s matchmaking is rubbing off on me. Is she still trying to find you a plus one? Either way, the invite stands for you to bring him.”
I cough out a laugh. “God, no! He’s not…anything. We’re not dating, and I definitely can’t bring him to your wedding,” I say. Because he’s my archenemy who I’m in the middle of taking down. There’s absolutely no future for us as prospective partners, and mixing business with my family would be disastrous.
“Why not?” Nina asks, humored. “Are you going to get in trouble if you do?”
“Well, he is a Rat,” I say.
“And that makes you, what, opposites or something?” Nina asks, looking way too entertained. Her eyes widen as though she’s figured something out. “Wait. This is why you’re being so positive about me and Asher.”
“I’m always positive about love, Nina. It’s my job!”
Nina smirks. “Not like this.”
“This guy…he’s my complete opposite,” I articulate, thinking out loud. “I can see it now. His hunger for money and obsession with data will be too overwhelming for me and how I make decisions, which some might call too emotional. He’s secretive and doesn’t show his cards right away, whereas I like to know things immediately. I wouldn’t be able to tell what his true motives are, and that would annoy me. He’ll want feedback on every little thing, and I’ll be turned off by someone who isn’t self-assured. You see? It’s useless to even pretend there could ever be something between us.”
Nina leans over, her elbows digging into the side of her knees. “I haven’t decided yet if it’s charming or exhausting when you do that ‘I can see it now’ thing. You know, just because you and your ex weren’t compatible doesn’t mean you can’t ever be with someone incompatible again, right?”
“He has nothing to do with this,” I say, putting my hands up in defense. “I’m providing context based on what I’ve learned about Bennett so far.”
“You really learned a lot about this guy at one baking class,” Nina says skeptically.
“I get paid to analyze people quickly,” I rationalize.
“I think it’s a matter of perspective. His data is numbers. Your data is traits,” Nina says.
“My data? That’s not how I view love. Based on traits and elements, I help create a—”
“Spark, right?” Nina asks.
I hold my hands out toward her. “Exactly.”
“Just like an algorithm, you’re trying to make sense of love. You bring order to it for others.”
“I’m not trying to have a debate about this.”
Still, her words linger.
She sticks out her lip to pout. Nina lives for a good debate. It’s what makes her a respectable, albeit exasperating, comic book editor. If authors can reasonably explain their points, Nina’s willing to go along with them.
“I just want you to be as happy as I am,” Nina says. “You used to love being in love.”
I stretch my legs out in front of me. “I am in love. With my work.”
Nina leans her head back against the treehouse wall and laughs.
“And I am happy,” I continue. I reach for the moon and horse pendants around my neck. “I have Lunar Love and my clients and my family and my health and Pinot and you. And cake. There’s never a shortage of cake. Honestly, what more do I need?”