The advice is vague at best. “Please, continue,” I say, choosing not to fight it. Her calmness about this is mystifying.
Pó Po fidgets with a loose string. “Bennett learned through his mother’s journals that later, after she was married, her birth year wasn’t what she had believed all along. Her birthday and year on the birth certificate had been recorded incorrectly, since she had been born just one day after the Lunar New Year.”
“So she was a Borderliner,” I say, referring to a term we use to call people whose birthdays fall so close to the days of a different animal sign that some of the traits blend.
Pó Po nods. “The years had been mixed up. His mother spent her entire life believing she was born in the year of an animal she actually wasn’t. This affected the matching.”
So she did make an incompatible match. Like I did. But the reasoning behind hers is understandable. Borderliners can be very tricky.
“He said his parents were happy,” I say, reassuring her.
“It was a sloppy mistake,” she says as though she’s scolding herself.
“It was an accident. It’s not like you purposely made an incompatible match. That’d be a different story,” I justify.
“What you did was an accident, too, Liv,” Pó Po says in a soothing tone. “You did what you thought was best for your friend at the time. We can’t always make perfect, blissful matches.”
I wrinkle my eyebrows. “You warned me but I didn’t listen. At least yours resulted in a successful marriage.”
Brightness returns to her face. “Bennett’s parents were good together, incompatible or otherwise.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him? He knew about me,” I ask. “You never hide things from me.”
“I was ashamed about his parents’ match,” she says. “And you never cared much about the men I bring up to you. How is Bennett different than Mr. Love-Fifteen?”
“He just is,” I say after a moment.
“He knows about you because I talked about you. How could I not?” Pó Po says. “I’m sorry that you were caught by surprise, but everyone’s entitled to their own secrets every now and then.”
I have a million more questions but I sense she wants to drop it. I’ve already questioned her enough. Pó Po goes to her room to rest before the festivities pick up while I bundle the bagged cookies together and bring them to the front entrance for guests to grab on their way out. More friends and family have started to arrive, evidenced by the growing stack of shoes in the entryway. A knot in my stomach forms at the anticipation of having to field questions about Lunar Love and if I’ve managed to save it yet.
“Olivia! Can you grab this?” Dad asks as I pass by the kitchen. With a plate of raw meat balanced in one hand, he hands me a plate of cheddar cheese slices that have been individually shaped with a cookie cutter to be perfectly round. “Moon cheese. I paid extra for expedited shipping. The fee was astronomical!” He laughs at his own joke.
“Looks good,” I say to Dad, following him back out to the grill.
“Everything all right?” Dad asks when I don’t even pity laugh.
“Oh, yeah. I just have a lot on my mind. Nice apron, by the way.”
“You like it? It’s the exact tartan pattern of our family clan from Scotland,” he explains. “I had it custom-made. Let me know if you want one.” He nudges a burger patty so it lines up evenly with the others.
Dad places the plate of rounded burger meat onto the grill’s side table. “You want a Full Moon Burger Special?” he asks, flipping his metal spatula into the air, barely catching it. I narrowly dodge the spinning utensil.
“Definitely. Medium rare, please. I’ll be back for it.” I pat Dad on the shoulder and make my way over to the dessert table where I see Nina and Asher, Nina’s fiancé, lingering.
“Do we have enough food?” Nina asks us, fidgeting with her sapphire engagement ring.
“There’s four platters of wife cake, walnut cookies, sponge cake, Chinese shortbread, two trays of chocolate cake, a plate of macarons, two bowls of fruit, a box of doughnuts, burgers, chips, drinks…I think there’s plenty,” I say.
“If we run out, I’ll go whip up a fresh batch of cookies myself,” Asher says reassuringly. He rubs Nina’s shoulders.
“Okay,” she says, exhaling a relaxed sigh. She adjusts one of the plates so that it’s angled closer to the tray. “Thanks, Ash.”
Mom joins us with two cookie cakes. “Grandma and Grandpa sent these for you. They told me to tell you that they’re sorry they can’t make it, but they’re looking forward to seeing you at the wedding.”
“Well, there we go! More food. Problem solved,” Asher says with a smile. “Let’s get this party started. Drinks, ladies?”
“Just a little bit of wine, please,” Nina says. “Don’t go wild with it.”
