Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune(24)

Was all this from Laolao’s food? This was incredible. I couldn’t believe it was working.

“Mr. Shen?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

“I . . .” He cleared his throat. His reedy voice deepened, growing louder. “I feel great. Better than I have in my life. New batteries.”

“New batteries?”

“I have always thought I was given a damaged set of batteries when I was born. It felt like a limitation I couldn’t overcome. Right now, though, I feel happy, energized, like I could conquer the world. But this is strange . . . It will take time to get used to.” He stood and bowed. “Thank you for the meal and more.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, watching him leave. A surge of excitement flowed through my body. It worked! There was no longer any doubt of the efficacy of Laolao’s recipes. Older Shen changed because of the dish—I had seen it for myself. The recipes exceeded my expectations; I could only hope they helped as much as I needed them to. If they did, I could meet my goal of opening the restaurant and saving the rest of the neighborhood. Just in case, I made a mental note to check in on Older Shen in a few days.

I turned to Laolao’s photograph propped against her recipe book and murmured my thanks.

My phone’s screen flashed with a text from Celia, reminding me of our lunch date in a few minutes. I grabbed my purse and headed out.

Success tasted better than a plump char siu bao right out of the steamer.

I stepped outside and twirled with arms outstretched, eyes to the sky as a cluster of blue scrub jays flew overhead, following my movements. The vibrant parade of blue acted as a contrast to the bleakness around me. In my moments of joy, I always had an entourage of birds trailing above me like an avian bridal train made of feathers and sky instead of pearls and lace. The birds found me no matter where I was in the world.

Tormented by the creatures she couldn’t reach, Meimei batted against the windows of the apartment. I laughed and waved at her. The cat ignored me, her focus trained on the elusive prey on the other side of the glass.

Laolao’s recipe had worked for Older Shen. I hoped that when I cooked the chicken wings, the Chius would also benefit from some magical meddling. All I had left to do was find the last person in need, and I would fulfill the conditions for opening the restaurant.

Rushing to Celia’s gift shop, I pushed the door open and found her clucking over the shelves, righting merchandise, and rearranging a row of smiling ceramic pandas. She hummed “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music, sashaying her wide hips to the melody.

Long-dormant memories of her resurfaced. The longer I stayed here, the more I remembered what I had so easily discarded when I left home. Celia ate well and it showed, but she was a connoisseur, not a cook herself. It was no secret that her culinary attempts had resulted in emergency visits from the fire department. She would be the ideal customer for the restaurant I was trying to reopen.

The strand of pearls around Celia’s neck paired beautifully with her bright yellow peplum dress. She squinted through her tortoiseshell glasses as she tried to fix the last figurine’s pose to match the others. Her high voice broke out in a shrill vibrato as she sang.

She swung out her arm in a sweeping gesture and sent a row of smiling ceramic dragons crashing to the floor. “Oh no!” she wailed in a singsong voice as she assessed the damage.

I spied the broom behind the counter and fetched it along with the dustpan.

Celia bent down to collect the big pieces. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said. “I’m snakebitten. Although, I should count myself blessed that a real snake hasn’t bitten me yet.”

“I’m sorry, Celia.” I deposited the fragments into the trash and returned the broom and dustpan behind the counter.

“My klutziness isn’t your fault.” She waved her hand and sighed. “Let’s move on to happier things. What’s happening with the restaurant?”

I grinned. “I saw Miss Yu. She told me I needed to help three people so I can open the restaurant. I’ve already helped Older Shen.”

“Oh, that is excellent news indeed!” Celia smothered me with her generous bosom. “We can celebrate during lunch. This is great progress.”

I could barely nod, for I was lost in the scent of lilac talcum powder and Chanel No. 5. I politely extracted myself and took a quick step back as insurance against being ensnared once more.

“The clothes look great.” She gestured to the ivory romper I was wearing. “You look good in white. You have the figure for it.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Miranda always had a trim figure and so did your laolao. It’s in your blood. And what’s in my blood . . .”

“Is style,” I declared. It was true. Celia possessed an impeccable, arresting sense of style that could be featured in any sartorial publication.

A soft, rosy blush spread across Celia’s cheeks. “An exchange of mutual compliments is the best way to start our lunch. You can tell me all about your victories, and I’ll fill you in on the latest gossip.”

Flipping the Open sign on the door to Closed, she must have noticed my guilty expression. “It’s a slow period now anyway. The morning rush, however little it is, is done, and the rest of the day is dead. You’re doing me a favor by breaking the monotony. Besides, this is the most exciting date I’ve been on in years. And don’t even think about offering to pay for lunch. I’m covering it because I invited you.”