Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune(66)

“Didn’t you have your date with Daniel recently?” Celia asked, setting down the spray bottle.

Daniel hadn’t responded to my apology text. I was afraid that I would never see him again.

I dropped scoops of tea leaves into an empty pot. “I did and it went well, but after the fire . . . we fought. I’m pretty sure I screwed up any chance of being with him.” The kettle on the stove whistled. The high-pitched sound pierced the peaceful air in the apartment. I lifted the kettle off the stovetop and poured the steaming water into the teapot. I placed the pot and two earthenware cups on a wooden tray.

Celia’s mauve lips opened while her hands moved to frame her hips. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

I almost dropped the tray on the way to the coffee table. The cups clinked from the sudden movement.

“He’s cute, decent, and you like him.” She huffed. “Need I remind you about the best part—he’s not married.”

“With all of the neighbors’ problems blowing up around me and the fire gutting the restaurant, I thought I had nothing to stay for.” I poured the tea into two cups. The steam rolled off the rims. I glanced in Celia’s direction. She sank into her chair, cradling her cup.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

“I had a high body count already. I didn’t want to add to it,” I reasoned, then buckled under her glare. “Fine, I pushed him away so it would be easier to run. I’d even bought a plane ticket, but a wise friend stopped me. But before I can even think of Daniel, I need to focus on undoing the harm I did around here. Maybe opening the restaurant will show him I’m serious about staying and he’ll forgive my stupidity.”

“It sounds to me like he is your match. When you talk about him, there’s so much hope in your voice, like you think this one is different from the others.”

I sighed. The thought had crossed my mind. “What if he doesn’t forgive me? What if the only thing that kept him coming was the magic of the recipes I cooked for him?”

“We both know it’s more than just the food.”

“Well—”

Celia held up her hand. “If you’re going to say that your laolao’s food is more powerful than love, I beg to differ. Her cooking was amazing, but to say it’s greater than love, even I have to disagree. Anyway, Daniel sees something wonderful in you and I see it, too, you know.”

I lowered my eyes. “Even after the damage I’ve caused?”

“Yes, and if you had left without saying a word . . .” She met my eyes. “I forgive you for what you’ve done. I missed you, my friend.”

First she had given me kindness and now, forgiveness. I was very lucky to have Celia in my life.

“Thank you. I should probably also confess that I was going to send you a message and leave you the cat.”

She whacked me in the arm. “If you had done that, I’d have hunted you down and dragged you back here myself.”



* * *





?I still had two more recipes to write. Celia agreed to accompany me to a late-night market across town. We returned to the apartment with four overstuffed bags of ingredients. Celia, ever the enabler, had pointed to everything in sight, shoving items into the shopping cart as if we were preparing for an apocalypse. I hadn’t the heart to dissuade her; as a result, I had to play a game of Tetris to fit everything into the fridge when we got back. I started to experiment in the kitchen as we chatted; Celia would be my taster as we figured out the best recipes to use.

“Are these your notebooks from your school days on the table?” she asked.

“Oh, those are my mother’s journals. I didn’t know she had them. I found them in her room; I’m going to read them all eventually,” I replied.

“Miranda did like to write. I remember that her penmanship was beautiful. I guess reading them would kind of bring her back in a way.”

Celia was right. There was a measure of comfort seeing Ma-ma’s words. I should make time to read more tonight after I finished cooking.

“So once you decide what to cook for Fai Shen and the Chius,” she said, “have you figured out how you’ll get them to come here?”

I stopped midchop. The garlic cloves on the cutting board almost rolled away from the abrupt motion. “I hadn’t thought about that part yet,” I replied.

“The last I heard, Wayne and Anita weren’t talking. At all. You’ll need to contact both separately. It’ll be trickier to get Wayne out of the convenience store than to get ahold of Anita in between appointments.” Celia sipped her glass of cranberry juice. “Wayne did come out of the store that afternoon when he saw the fire truck. He was going to drop by, but I told him you were all right and that it wasn’t a good time. Maybe if you ask him to stop by tomorrow, asking for help with something, he’ll come?”

“Celia, are you asking me to lie?”

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “It’s for his own good. Those two need to sit down and talk instead of yelling over each other. Leave Anita to me. Tell me the time and I’ll make sure she’s here. As for Fai, he’s cleared his schedule to entertain Melody Minnows. You’d think he was dating the woman. It’s a shame that he’s decided to sell. I’ll leave you his number.”