Lunar Love (6)

Guests part to create a pathway for us as we navigate around wooden folding tables decorated with bud vases. The chorus grows louder as the kids and the ones who were too shy to join in at first contribute their voices, belting out the words with enough gusto to make Andrea Bocelli proud.

When we finally reach Pó Po, my heart swells with emotion. Delighted, Pó Po grins from ear to ear and places a hand over her cheek. When she smiles, her entire face lights up, the creases around her twinkling eyes deepening.

Auntie and I set the cake on the table in front of Pó Po, her face illuminated by the fire. As expected, a few singers go rogue and change the song’s ending, but Pó Po claps along anyways. I give Pó Po a side hug, and we link pinkies and press our thumbs together. It’s a gesture we’ve been doing ever since I could form a fist, as a promise that our love for each other will never change. I don’t know who I’d be without her in my life.

Pó Po closes her eyes for a few moments, wax slowly dripping down onto the top layer of the cake, giving the horse’s coat a healthy sheen. She blows out the candles, resting between each extinguishing to catch her breath. Everyone bursts into cheers and claps when she puts out the final flame. I make some noise for the woman whose past decisions have provided me with my future.

After Pó Po makes her wish, Auntie and I carry the horse cake to the winner’s circle, conveniently located at the dessert table. Mom strategically placed the dessert table by her blooming roses so Sān Pó Po, one of Pó Po’s sisters, could admire her handiwork. The sweet scent of the flowers wafts up in the light breeze. Beside the cake are trays of mooncakes, egg tarts, sliced apples and oranges, fruit tarts, red bean sesame balls, and Bo Lo Baos from this morning’s bakery run. I smirk at the memory of Bakery Guy instigating a trade. I may have lost my pork bun, but at least it was on my terms.

Dad turns Pó Po’s moon-themed playlist back on and Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon” blasts from the outdoor speakers. Pó Po slowly waltzes her way over to me. She’s the proud leader of the local senior-citizen dance team and finds every opportunity she can to show off her moves. She holds up two sideways peace signs in front of her eyes and pulls them apart. I extend my arm diagonally up to the sky with a disco finger and then bring it down across my body.

“Are you ready?” Pó Po whispers. She adjusts the cornflower blue vest she’s wearing over her white polo, her signature daytime look. Her short hair is freshly waved from hair rollers, a style she’s preferred for decades. “I’m going to make the announcement after the cake is served.”

“I think most people already know, Pó Po. Was it supposed to be a big secret?”

“Aiyah! I guess I should’ve expected the news to spread. This is the Huang family, after all. No respect, even at ninety-one years old.” Pó Po laughs and reaches out to rub a rose’s soft blush petal. “Ah well, I’ll still give a little speech. It’ll be nice.”

“Pó Po, you’re ninety! Not ninety-one,” I say, holding her gently by both shoulders.

Pó Po gives me a subtle wink. “When I was born in China, children were considered to be one year old at birth. That would make me ninety-one, but yes, let’s go with ninety. Oh, Liv? The cake. It’s hilarious. Thank you. Can I put in an early request for a unicorn next year?”

“They’re becoming harder to find, but if that’s what you want, I can make it happen,” I say with a mock-serious tone.

She pushes a loose strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear and takes a moment to study my face. “Why do you look so radiant? You’re practically glowing!”

I bring a hand to my cheek. “Am I? Well, I’m excited about today!”

“For the announcement?” she asks probingly.

“What else?” I say casually, fiddling with a plastic fork. I’m definitely not glowing because of Bakery Guy. That would be ridiculous. I don’t even know his sign.

“Okay. Well, good.” Pó Po nods slowly. “Ah, before I forget, there’s someone I think you’ll want to meet. Should I set up a date?”

It’s one of Pó Po and Auntie’s favorite pastimes to introduce me to people they think I might want to meet. Really, they’re young men they want me to meet.

“Do you really think now is the best time for me to be dating?” I ask. “There’s going to be too much to do with Lunar Love.”

Pó Po narrows her eyes at me. “We’ll revisit this later. Auntie also has someone you might like. Choices are never a bad thing! One way or another, we need to get you matched,” she says before fluffing her hair and twirling off to find more family members to charm.

I pluck the melted candles out of the horse and smooth over the icing. When I cut into the cake, it becomes apparent that this looks very wrong. In its entirety, the cake looked great. Dismembered, not so much. I divide the tail into six pieces, placing each one onto small round paper plates. I line the plates up next to each other and attempt to re-create the shape of the horse so that it doesn’t look like a bunch of body parts scattered on the table.

A bracelet-covered arm jingles past me to grab half a hoof. Without needing to look, I smell Alisha’s gardenia perfume and know it’s her. Alisha Lin, my co-matchmaker at Lunar Love, always looks put together in stylish clothing. She sweeps her long, dark brown hair over to the side, the curls cascading over her shoulders. Ever since Alisha was hired at Lunar Love three years ago, she’s quickly become one of my closest friends and confidants.