Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune(45)

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?After the early dinner, I returned to the apartment humming the tune the birds had sung as Daniel and I walked in the park. I dropped off my purse and picked up the cat, holding her against me in a joyful dance.

“I really like him, Meimei,” I whispered to the purring ball of fur against my neck. “He’s wonderful. I know you’ll like him, too, when you finally meet him.”

The cat kept purring.

“I’ll figure out a date. It’ll be soon, I promise.”

A sharp argument drew my attention to the street below. I moved toward the windows.

The Chius.





Chapter Sixteen





Out on the street, I heard them before I saw them.

The Chius stood arguing outside of their store. Miniature firecrackers popped in the air. I ducked out of view but couldn’t help wincing from the explosions.

Mr. Chiu placed his hands on his hips. “Come home, Anita. This is ridiculous. You can’t keep staying out of the house because we’re quarreling.”

“You don’t love me enough.” Mrs. Chiu wagged her finger at her husband. “I have sacrificed so much for you because I love you. You say you love me more, then show me!”

“How can I show you if you won’t come home?”

“What have you given up?” She reached out to her husband and tugged on his sleeve. “I always set aside my needs to accommodate yours. When was the last time I visited my family in Buffalo?”

He pulled his arm away. “You never asked. I thought you—”

“Do I have to ask, Wayne? I haven’t seen them in over five years. You know they can’t come to visit me because it’s too expensive. I missed my nephew’s graduation from law school, my niece’s wedding, and my sister . . . When she was sick, I couldn’t go to her side.” She sobbed. “If you loved me as much as you claim to, you would put me first every once in a while.”

“How can you question my love for you? How can you doubt our marriage?” Mr. Chiu covered his eyes. “This isn’t a matter of checks and balances. You don’t quantify love.”

“Easy to say when you’re not the one always at a deficit. I’m the one with the shortfall. Me. And this is why I’m not coming home.” Mrs. Chiu balled her fists and walked away, leaving her husband alone to collect himself.

Fine lines formed under Mr. Chiu’s loafers. They spread out in tiny cracks, chipping away at the smooth surface of the sidewalk. The fractures branched out in a spiderweb formation, a miniature earthquake without the seismic vibrations, carving out the hardened concrete as if it were made of candy glass. The lines stretched onto another block of sidewalk, then another, until it reached the road and stopped.

Mr. Chiu retreated into his store.

The scars on the sidewalk lingered, an ugliness marring what was once something smooth and whole. What was happening with Laolao’s recipe? It was supposed to help my neighbors. I had followed the recipe to the letter. I had seen it work.

Celia had been fine. Were the Chius the outliers? What about Older Shen? Why was this happening? I thought the recipes worked. I wondered whether Miss Yu had placed her confidence in the wrong person.

Miss Yu. She would be the perfect person to help me.

I rushed to the tea shop and yanked on the door handle. It rattled, but didn’t budge. Locked. A handwritten sign was taped to the glass: “Out for the day.” I leaned against the locked door and sighed. The grayness of the neighborhood was spreading, enveloping everything with a nothingness. I rubbed my eyes, but the blur lingered, rubbing out the details: the mortar between the bricks, the art deco architectural features, even the dragons on the lampposts. They were vanishing.

We were vanishing.

I ran toward Older Shen’s bookstore to check on him.



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?The bookstore was empty. The recent bustle of repairs had stopped: no sign of tools or paint cans anywhere. New recessed lighting installed in the ceiling illuminated bare shelving while the walls sported a deeper, richer hue of turquoise than I had seen last. The store was perfect except for the alarming lack of books. Paperbacks, journals, magazines, newspapers, even community newsletters had disappeared.

Older Shen stood beside the counter. He toyed with his phone, swiping and clicking as if wielding a remote control for a nonexistent flat-screen. A heavy cast wrapped around his left calf, and a pair of crutches was under his arms.

“Mr. Shen, what happened?” I asked.

He glanced up and pointed at the cast. “Hello, Natalie. Ah, you mean this?”

I nodded. My stomach wobbled as blood rushed to my cheeks. Had I caused this like I had the Chius’ separation?

“Renovations. Recessed lighting adds more value than the fluorescent lighting.” He set his phone aside. “I also changed the color of the wall. It needed to be bolder. Much more appealing, don’t you think?”

“Yes, your customers will love this.”

He leaned over, holding a hand beside his mouth, and mock whispered, “It’s not for the customers.”

My stomach lurched, pitching forward as if I were on a roller coaster, heading for a precipitous descent. “Who is it for?”

“Prospective buyers! I’ve been checking over the listings for commercial buildings. The prices have gone up, and I could sell this place for a lot more than I ever hoped for. Ms. Minnows has been very helpful. I can retire in style and travel the world like I’ve always wanted to do.”