Chapter 24
I’m wrist-deep in flour when Bennett arrives at my parents’ house.
“Bennett, it’s nice to see you again,” Mom says in the entryway before leading him into the kitchen. When our eyes meet, his tense shoulders drop three inches.
“You can help Olivia with the dough,” Mom instructs. “Have you ever made dumplings before?”
Bennett drops his bag on a chair and rolls up his sleeves. “Only once, but that was a long time ago,” he says.
“I’ll show you how to do it, per Pó Po’s instructions,” I offer, using my palm to roll a small piece of dough against the floured table. I flatten the dough with a rolling pin, turning it until the wrapper is round and thin.
“I’ll follow your lead,” he says without any resistance. Bennett watches me intently, mimicking my movements with invisible dough.
“No highly rated recipe up your sleeve?” I ask good-naturedly.
He smiles. “I wouldn’t stand a chance against your Pó Po.”
I cut the dough in half and hand him his piece to divide and roll into wrappers. We work diligently as Mom cuts scallions, Nina minces garlic, Asher measures sauces, Dad chops ginger, and Auntie preps ingredients for the side dishes. Dad throws Bennett softball questions as I focus on my rolling and breathing to steady my hands and hammering heart. Bennett moves surprisingly fast, looking as though he’s loving every minute.
Over one hundred rolled wrappers later, Bennett covers our hard work with a damp towel. He beams at what we’ve created together.
“We’ll take it from here,” Mom says. “We’ll eat in an hour. Nice work, both of you. Olivia, you’re getting as fast as Pó Po.” I bask in her words. Bennett does, too.
“You can come with me,” I say to Bennett after we wash flour off our hands. He follows me up to the second floor, out the deck, and up to the roof.
“Should we be up here?” he asks, crouching low as he mimics my movements until we reach a flat section where I’ve set up a blanket for us to sit.
I pat the ground next to me, and Bennett doesn’t object.
“Hi,” I say in an exhale.
“Hi,” he says.
“Thank you for coming to the funeral. And for the comfort food.” I think for a moment. “You danced. In public.”
“It was my honor,” he says. “Thanks for coming to the pitch.”
“I wish I could’ve stayed longer.”
“When you saw me on stage stumbling over my words, all I could think about was you and if you would ever forgive me. You saved me from making a fool of myself. My words only came out clearly because I imagined that I was only talking to you.”
“You spoke from the heart,” I say.
“I’m not so good at that,” he says, gently nudging me with his elbow.
“It’s a start.” I bite my lip. “It sounded like you spoke from the heart on the podcast, too.”
Bennett lifts his shoulders up in a half shrug. “I told them I didn’t want to do it anymore and to replace me with you, but they said that if I wasn’t going to do it, neither of us would. So I figured I’d use the platform to talk about Lunar Love. I hope that was okay.” He sighs. “And for the record, I meant what I said.”
“You were the winner, so it was right for you to be on it,” I say.
“I was the winner?” Bennett asks curiously. “That can’t be easy for you to say.”
I dip my head. “You were a formidable opponent, I’ll admit.”
He holds up his phone. “So this was true then?”
On his phone is my second WhizDash article. When I sent it to Alisha’s friend last week, I promised her three months of free matchmaking services if she could expedite posting it. Luckily for me, she’s still Team Lunar Love and was open to trying something new.
In my last list, I wrote about all the things that ZodiaCupid wasn’t. Turns out, the only one with an identity crisis here…is me. Instead of figuring out who I am or what I want to be, I projected my insecurities onto a digital app. Truth is, through the app I bashed, I met someone great.
He reads a line from it out loud. “This Horse fell in love with an incompatible match by accident, but it turned out to be the best thing for her.” His eyes flash up at me. “Do you mean it?”
My eyes flick from his phone to his eyes. “Every word.”
His face lights up. “Well, this Rat fell in love with a Horse, but I don’t think we’re mismatched.”
Heat rises in my chest. “As much as it shocks me to say, we did match on the app so I guess you really technically did win.”
“That’s technically true,” Bennett says happily.
“Even though we’re the signs that we are,” I say.
Bennett laughs. “Right! So, if I recall correctly, your evaluation of me being a Rat is that I’m a freeloader, afraid of rejection, dishonest, and misleading?” he says, throwing the words I directed at him at the Halloween party back at me.
I cringe hearing those words again. “No. Because you’re resourceful, ambitious, easy to get along with, and caring. You’re a good listener, have a great sense of humor, and have a kind heart. And I…I’m sorry,” I say, stretching out the words.
“We may have different approaches to life, but I think that can be a good thing,” Bennett says.
I reach out to grab Bennett’s hand. “Even though we’re incompatible according to the Chinese zodiac, I’ve never felt more myself than when I’m with you. And life’s too short not to be with someone you feel most yourself with.”
Bennett clasps my hand in return and scoots closer to me on the blanket. “You’re not the only one who feels that way. You’ve made me a better version of myself.”
“It’s safe to say that you’ve been slightly influential on me, too,” I admit.
Bennett pulls me closer. “I hope you believe that I never tried to put Lunar Love out of business. I may not completely change your mind about compatibility, but I hope I can at the very least change your mind about me.”
I take a deep breath. “I can see it now. My need for adventure will balance nicely with your intellectual pursuits. Your flexibility and forthrightness will help counteract my stubbornness, which, let’s be honest, I need. You’ll respect that I crave my independence while I’ll appreciate, after learning over time, that being together can be just as fulfilling.”
“I’ll do my best, but I like how independent you are,” Bennett whispers, leaning his forehead against mine.
The nearness of his face to mine almost derails my train of thought, but I push on, considering the other ways Bennett might help balance me. “Sometimes I’ll want control, sometimes you will, but the natural leaders in us will value that we’re in an equal partnership where one of us isn’t just following the other. And since we both, for the most part, know each other’s traits, we can work on compromise and come together from a place of understanding.”
Bennett looks impressed. “You forgot one thing.”
I look at him with skeptical eyes. “What?”
He holds my hand against his chest. “My data-driven mindset will always be balanced by your heart.”
I shake my head. “You have more heart than you think. There’s no doubt we both need control. For me, it’s who gets to be matched together. For you, it was in your approach to how those matches happened. I so closely follow predetermined rules for myself and others.”
“Maybe love isn’t something that can be controlled to the level we were trying to manage it,” Bennett says. “It’s not something where either of us can guarantee an outcome. For most of my life, I needed to be able to take charge. But, Olivia, you make me want to lose control, go with my gut, delete the spreadsheet, and take the risk.”
I smile, my heart overflowing with emotion. “I have something for you,” I say, reaching for a metal bucket I covered in a towel earlier today.
Bennett peeks over my legs. “What is it?”
“I thought it could be nice to do our own joss paper burning,” I say, bringing out an envelope from under my side of the blanket.
His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Do you have more items to send to your Pó Po?” he asks.
“For your mom,” I say, handing Bennett the envelope.
He delicately holds the envelope between his hands and pulls out a stack of papers.
“What are these?” he says, reading the writing on the paper. After a few seconds, understanding settles on his face.
“They’re your parents’ Lunar Love files,” I explain. “They include the notes Pó Po took when she matched your mom and dad.”
Bennett’s eyes glisten. “I don’t know what to say,” he says, falling quiet. “I thought about my mom a lot today. In my mind, she’s forever this brilliant person who never missed a bedtime reading, always ate the frosting first, and taught me how to dance. These details make her feel real again.”
“It’s the best match Lunar Love ever made,” I admit.
Bennett flips through the pages, absorbing every last detail.
I lift the towel from the bucket and reveal an assortment of small paper goods. “I was able to track down a paper shop today. I found a guy who makes the most beautiful paper items I’ve ever seen. I took the liberty of picking up some necessities for your mom.”
Bennett gently lifts out a paper house, clothing, money, shoes, and food. “You even included little paper journals and pens,” he says, surprised.
“For her to write about her experiences,” I say. “I’m sure she has more great stories to tell.” I hand him a folded piece of paper. “I’d also like to add this, if that’s okay with you.”
He takes the paper from me cautiously. “What’s this?”
“It’s a letter to her, from me. I’d love for her to know how incredible her son is, and how proud she’d be of who you are.”
A tear trails down Bennett’s cheek. “This is…thank you,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer.
I hug him back, breathing him in.
“This means everything,” he adds, placing the items back in the bucket and sliding my letter in with it. “These files. I can burn them, too?”
I nod. “I still have the originals for you. When your mom receives these, maybe she’ll think to find Pó Po. Then they’ll have each other in the afterlife.”
Bennett places the files in the bucket and grabs the matchbox from me. With just one strike, the match crackles into a small flame. He drops it into the bucket and watches as the paper goods fuel the flames, the blaze growing in height and heat.
Shadows on Bennett’s face dance to the flicker of the golden sparks. I nestle into him while the smoke rises up, disappearing into the night. When he turns to face me, his hazel eyes have intensified. All sense of time disappears as we look at each other. It’s as though we’re really seeing each other, not for our jobs or for our signs, but for who we are without all that. It feels like I’m seeing him, seeing myself, for the very first time.
His face relaxes into a dimpled smile. “If I didn’t make it clear enough before, I love you.”
A wide smile spreads across my face. “I love you, too.”
We slowly lean closer into each other until there’s no space left between us. I pull his arm around me tighter as I wrap my arm around his shoulders. I tilt my head back, waiting for his lips to reach mine. Under the waning crescent sliver of the moon and the navy sky sparingly dotted with stars, we abandon our fears and insecurities, hold each other tightly, and embrace being compatibly incompatible.