Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune(37)

“Of course I trust you.” I tucked the book away, my fingertips lingering over the embossed leather cover. “You mentioned you had news?”

“I think I have a solution for increasing business for the shop and the neighborhood.”

I clapped my hands. “That’s excellent! Tell me everything.”

“This morning’s tour bus was a blessing. I wondered what would happen if I could get regular traffic coming to my shop, so I started talking to the driver and the tour guide. They said they stopped here because of a specific request: probably from Old Wu’s nephew. Apparently, he had to call in favors because over the years, our neighborhood has lost its appeal. For the last decade, the buses would drop off people at the paifang, then move them deeper into Chinatown, never stopping in front of the store like it did yesterday. Sure, we were lucky if we had a few stop by, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Why didn’t you all do this earlier? Asking the buses to stop by?”

“We did. They weren’t interested, and over the years, the local ones stopped taking our calls. Maybe the problem is that we didn’t think big enough. This had me digging into out-of-town tour operators. I think I have a solid plan that might save us all. If Old Wu’s nephew can do this, so can I. I’ll book the tour groups myself. I swear my luck has been on fire lately,” she said.

“Luck is all about making the right choices. You’re making your own good fortune,” I remarked, feeling a pang of guilt for not telling her what I’d done.

Celia’s smile brightened her lovely face. “I saw Daniel walk by. Do you have news too?”

“He said he’ll ask me out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why not today?”

“I don’t know, but I’m nervous, so I’m okay with the delay,” I confessed. “I like him a lot.”

“He’s adorable. And if I was younger—”

The oven dinged, leaving us laughing at the timely interruption.

Despite my warnings that it would take another forty-five minutes, Celia parked a chair before the oven to stare into the window, watching the foil packet for any micro-reaction. As the fragrance of the fish diffused in the air, she moved closer, sniffing with the tenacity of a bloodhound.

“Snapper?” she asked.

I nodded.

When the timer rang out, Celia jumped to her feet, clearing out of the way so I could open the oven door. I pulled the pan out and placed it on the stovetop. The foil packet sighed as I pulled it open, hissing as it yielded its bounty. Clouds of steam puffed upward, releasing the tantalizing aroma into the air. The fish’s reddish skin had a beautiful overlapping pattern that looked as if it had been painted by some wayward mermaid. My sharp scissors snipped the stitches in its belly, spilling the filling onto the plate.

I scooped us both two helpings of the garlic fried rice and portioned the desirable parts of the fish, the head and the belly, for Celia, while I took the tail.

The piece of fish on my fork bore the sign of perfect execution: moist, milky translucence, and a silky texture that sprang to the touch. Infused with the fragrant stuffing, the tender fish melted in my mouth, dissolving in a mélange of delicious flavors—the trio of boldness from the coriander, garlic, and red onion tempered by the sweet tanginess of the tomatoes.

Success.

“Oh, this is divine,” Celia purred. “I haven’t had many Filipino dishes before. You’ll have to remedy that.”

“Thank you.” I sighed. “I can’t believe I’m getting ready to open the restaurant.” Or that by doing so, I was putting down roots.

“This is for all of you,” I said. “And for Ma-ma and Laolao.”

“I am glad you stayed. Now you realize that you’re one of us and we take care of one another.” Celia patted the empty spot beside her on the couch.

After we finished eating, I loaded the dishwasher, turned it on, and returned to the living room to take my seat beside her. “I’m glad Ma-ma had your friendship when I was gone.”

She squeezed my hand and sighed. “I think it’s time I tell you what happened after you left home. The day you hopped on a plane, Anita told us that Miranda quarreled with you and that you’d left. We knew she was alone so we all helped. Fai came by once a week to drop off new books and magazines for her. Guang took over buying her groceries. Evelyn delivered teas and stopped in for frequent visits while I’d come over to watch K-dramas with her.”

I hadn’t known any of this. My face must have betrayed my distress because Celia squeezed my hand.

“She made us promise not to tell you. Your mother didn’t want you to feel guilty and come home. Miranda loved you too much. Even though you had parted on ill terms, she didn’t doubt that you’d come back eventually. She understood that you had to leave to pursue your dream, and she respected that.”

Ma-ma, you weren’t alone. They loved you. I smiled. My brilliant mother, who couldn’t go outside, had brought the neighborhood inside instead.

Then a question escaped from me, something I had been keeping to myself for so long that it had eaten a hole in my heart and poisoned me. “Where were you all when I was younger? When Ma-ma couldn’t get out of the house and I was left to pick up the pieces . . .”

“Oh, Natalie . . .” Celia embraced me. “I’m so sorry. We should have done more. We wanted to, but Miranda insisted that we leave you two alone. She didn’t want our help. In hindsight, we should have been more adamant. Miranda was very angry back then because of your grandmother’s death and your father’s disappearance. She didn’t want anyone’s help. She shut us out for years.”