“She called every hotel in the Financial District,” I say with a small laugh.
Gong Gong tilts his head. “Sounds like she really wanted to talk to you. I don’t think fate made those calls.”
No. Fate did not make those calls. Fate also did not go back tothe print shop looking for Dave. Rooney did all of those things. Even as she made all of her string art pieces for the auction and created her installations, I never once felt like she didn’t have time for me. I feel like a complete ass. I am literally a Jackass.
Gong Gong walks next to me with his hands behind his back. “I know what it’s like to want to impress parents,” he says softly. “Making choices that will yield the best results so one day you have a piece of good news to share. But there’s so much pressure in that good news. It has to be the best news. And maybe, just maybe, that will earn you praise. Or a ‘good job.’ I know you felt your parents weren’t emotionally there for you when you needed them. You became self-sufficient, matured young. Became set in your ways on how things should be, how you wanted them to be. There wasn’t room to consider anything else.”
I let these words live in my head for a moment before I respond. “I don’t know why it still affects me so much. I’m an adult. Logically, I know I don’t need their approval anymore.”
“That feeling might never go away. They’re your parents. You have needs and expectations from them but feel let down when you’re not fulfilled in the way you need. That takes some adapting, too. But this is your life, and you’re the one living it. Not them. They’ve made their choices, got to do things the way they wanted. So should you.”
I grunt audibly. “I told her I wasn’t her stringmate. That we weren’t meant to be.”
“That’s not what you feel, is it?”
“I don’t know if that’s the term I’d use. All I know is I want to be with her. But I don’t know how to be. It… scares me,” I admit. “She brought out parts of me that I’m not used to feeling.”
“In this life, we get to decide who we want to be, for the most part. And other things that happen are us reacting to the circumstances.You can control yourself, the way you act. Trying to control everything else around you is a losing battle.” Gong Gong pats my back. “Perhaps running into Rooney in New York was supposed to happen, for whatever reason. What is really so bad about that if you want to be with her?”
I shake my head. “I want her to want to be with me, not to think I’m The One because signs told her so. I want her to… to choose me.”
Gong Gong nods. “In the way that your parents didn’t.”
This was a sore spot months ago when Rooney and I talked about my parents. The pain is still there. It probably always will be. But because of Rooney, for the first time in my life the ache is dulled. There’s room for more than just hurt. I want to let those other feelings in and not be ruled by my past.
“Does Rooney jump from person to person or something? Does she read into every little thing?” Gong Gong asks, turning to face me in front of a tank filled with fuchsia-colored fish. Must everything serve as a reminder?
“She reads into the big things. She’s never been in a serious relationship before,” I say. Remembering this slows my racing mind.
“Sounds like she’s been careful and wanted to make sure the signs weren’t false leads. Perhaps she did that because she knows how important stability and commitment are to you?” Gong Gong says.
“It does kind of sound that way,” I say, in disbelief of how foolish I’ve been.
“Do you know what I’d give for even just one more day with your grandma? She was gone too soon. I’d give everything I own for just one minute. Heck, just long enough to tell her I love her. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be something.”
“And something is better than nothing,” I say, more to myself than to him.
Gong Gong points at me, his curled finger directing me to payattention. “You will always be busy chasing the next promotion, the next achievement. Rooney will, too, with her art shows. But you’re never going to get back the time you can spend together. When you find someone you want to dance with every morning, put on your dancing shoes and get stepping.”
His words resonate deeply. I thought I lost Rooney once. I don’t want to lose her again. I don’t want to waste any more time.
“And, Jack, my boy, if it can offer any comfort at all, I choose you every day. Remember that,” Gong Gong adds, clasping my hands in his. We hug, like we always have and always will.
I walk Gong Gong out to the car to take him home. The sky is inky black, the moon half-illuminated. As always, it’s right where it should be. Stars are speckled across our celestial dome, nothing obstructing their view. A few shine brighter than the others.
In the distance, right above the horizon, eight stars in particular grab my attention. I draw an imaginary line through them, connecting the dots until they look like pinned-up string against a blackboard.
It’s then that I see it. There, purposely winking at me and quite literally written in the stars, is the Big Dipper.
It’s the second-closest thing to a sign, next to a crumpled piece of white paper with words written in red ink. It’s as though the universe had been listening.
But just as Rooney was careful, I need to be, too. An idea forms, the beginning of a hypothesis. A new theory on how to test the Red Thread of Fate and to clearly see the signs Rooney has been talking about all this time. I know what I need to do.
Rooney’s smile burns brightly in my mind. My heart skips a beat at the image, and suddenly it’s as clear as the stars in the sky.
It’s 7:50 p.m. Not even close to midnight, and we’ve already eaten dinner. But dumplings would really hit the spot.
“Gong Gong, have you ever heard of The Dumpling Hours?”
