Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune(46)

Melody Minnows. It was as I feared. If Older Shen sold the business, his store would be the foothold for those who wanted to gentrify us, converting the building to office space or overpriced condos. Once one business owner sold, more would follow until this neighborhood died. The community derived its strength from being whole. Like the Dragon’s Gate, Older Shen and the others were intrinsic to this street.

“Mr. Shen, you can’t listen to Ms. Minnows. She may not have your best interests or the community’s interest in mind,” I said.

Older Shen looked around. “For years, I’ve been tethered to this place. Perhaps it’s time to move on, to try something new, and see what else is out there.” He nodded. “Change can be good, right?”

“Sometimes, but I think you’re making a mistake. You said you wanted to improve your business, and the changes you’ve proposed will make it better. Besides, don’t you want to be here to see the results of your efforts?”

His brow furrowed. “It’s easier to sell. Why struggle when there is a better way? There is no pride in eking out a living. Longevity isn’t admirable if it’s a result of mediocrity. Haven’t we all been the same way? The neighborhood has been struggling for decades. It was never the same once your laolao died and the restaurant closed. The tourists dried up. Why stay if it means financial ruin and misery?”

“I still have hope that things are meant to turn out better. Isn’t it more commendable to fight than give up?”

“Perhaps, but it’s time to start thinking about myself and not what everyone else thinks is best for me. I can walk away a rich man, and after years of hard work, I deserve it. It’s wiser to know when to walk away.”

His words burrowed into my being. Walking away was my modus operandi.

I understood what it was like to need freedom. I would be a hypocrite to argue, so I kept my silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you,” he said. “Sometimes, there are things you just can’t prevent from happening: natural disasters, death, economic downturns. You do what you need to do to survive and adapt. Ms. Minnows says the sale will increase all of our property values. A business is a tricky thing, as you will see soon enough when you run the restaurant.”

How could I tell him that his decision to sell his bookstore on Ms. Minnows’s advice had shattered my dreams of opening? How selfish was I that I only wanted him to stay for all the wrong reasons when he should have the right to choose what was best for himself?

Had I helped the neighbors with the solution that I’d wanted for them instead of what they actually needed?

All I knew for sure was that now I had failed both the Chius and him, three of the people I had chosen to help. This wasn’t what I had intended. “I—”

Ms. Minnows entered in a pink version of her power suit. She greeted Older Shen with a pair of air kisses on the cheek. “Oh, Fai, you did a really good job finishing up the space. And I have excellent news. Three start-up firms contacted me with interest. We may even have a bidding war. And if you can get your brother to sell, we can add more to the pot.” She turned to me. “Or you, Ms. Tan. The more properties I sell on this street, the bigger the price tag and appeal for these companies. We can call it an innovation park!”

I leveled a glare at her, one Ma-ma had often used when she suspected I was lying. “Right. Because a tech campus is what the paifang represents. Nothing says Chinatown like a bunch of overpriced condos and office space.”

“It’s going to infuse money back into the neighborhood. Do you prefer that the buildings die and be demolished? At least this way, it will be better off.”

“They’ll never demolish the paifang.”

“Well . . . the gate would stay. It’s a landmark after all,” she responded with a robotic smile. “Your people will have the rest of Chinatown.”

“Yes, my people will always have Chinatown. We haven’t quite been driven out yet.” I turned to Older Shen and tipped my head. “Please consider my words, Mr. Shen. This doesn’t feel right. There must be another way.”

I made my way out of the bookstore without looking back.

As I walked away, I realized I couldn’t do anything about Older Shen selling, nor was it my place to tell him not to. I wished he could find someone better to sell to. Ms. Minnows was right about the skyrocketing real estate market in San Francisco: Older Shen would have offers for the building in no time, but if he sold, what would prevent the rest of the neighbors from doing the same?

Older Shen had broken his leg. Mrs. Chiu had moved out with the threat of divorce. Had Laolao ever failed this way? She had helped so many people in her time with no disastrous results, at least none that I’d heard of.

Did Laolao’s recipes have staying power because her roots to the community were deeper than mine? Would my attempts at her recipes always fail or be temporary at best? Ma-ma had told me once that I would never cook as well as Laolao. Why had I thought I could do this?

I realized suddenly that I’d toyed with people’s lives for my own personal gain. Asking Older Shen to stay because I needed to open the restaurant would be wrong. Worse, it was the same as asking the Chius to save their marriage; not for themselves, but for me. My intentions were good, but my motivations had not been so pure or altruistic.

My doubts billowed as dark as the clouds overhead. An ominous rumble echoed in the distance, the briefest of warnings before the rain descended. Fat droplets pelted my hair, soaking my white sundress and leather sandals. Unrelenting droplets heaved from the sky, soaking everything in sight, the gutters, the newly formed cracks in the sidewalk, painting everything in tones of gray.