Seconds later, the sky releases a steady, soft drizzle over us, the rain only visible in the dark when the light of the streetlamps catches the droplets at just the right angle. I expect everyone to run for cover, for the night to be cut short.
No one even flinches. They abandon the crane and jump into the inflatable pool, having splash fights with the stuffed toys and balls. The saxophonist doesn’t stop. Life goes on, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Then something funny happens inside me. I don’t feel the need to say something positive to try to save this beautiful night Hazel’s organized.
Not that she’d even need it anyway. Hazel has her head tilted up to the night sky, letting the rain wash over her forehead, her eyelids, her lips. She’s smiling from rain-soaked cheek to cheek. This moment is still perfect.
I stand and pull her up gently by the hand. “Dance with me.”
Hazel follows my lead, standing to meet me in the middle of the street. She presses up against me, resting her palm in mine. We sway side to side, finding a rhythm of our own.
“There wasn’t rain in the forecast,” she says with a laugh.
“Who knows? Maybe we’ll even get snow,” I say, half joking.
“I’m not ruling anything out at this point.”
Me neither. More impossible things have happened.
A zigzag of lightning flashes across the sky, and now we really should get moving. Instead, Hazel squeezes my hand and says, “We better be careful. It’s easier to get struck by lightning than to win the lottery, you know.”
I laugh through my nose. “With the way things have been going for us,” I murmur, ducking my head to get a good look at her, “I’d say we have a better chance of winning the lottery again.”
Hazel half groans, half laughs as she wraps her hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down to kiss her. Booms of thunder surround us, but this feels like the opposite of destruction, chaos, and pain.
It feels like we’ve hit the jackpot for a second time.
Epilogue
HAZEL
Eleven months later
Turns out, Wendy and her birds aren’t okay.
They’re more than okay. Thriving even.
We find them at the Good Fortune Fair. The setup is the same as last year, with food booths, and strung lights, and a festive atmosphere. It’s like no time has passed.
By the looks of it, Wendy had caught wind of our news. There’s a printout of our photo with the big check. The writing next to it:Predicted the jackpot winners having abundance.
At least it’s the disguised version of me. Wendy’s also taken the time to color over our names with marker.
What is there to do but laugh? Everyone’s got to make a living.
Wendy’s busy. The line to see her snakes down the block. Just before we move on, she looks up and catches my eye. There’s a glint. Something knowing. I give her a small wave, and she looks away before I can tell for sure.
“Bo’s here, too,” Logan says.
He’s focused on his work, reading tea leaves for two young women. I’m relieved that they’re smiling at whatever it is he’s saying.
We continue strolling, our stomachs filled with mooncakes and crispy lotus root chips. Logan wanders off to a stall while I browse colorful lanterns for sale. When he returns, he’s picked up orange and yellow chrysanthemums from one of the flower booths down the block.
Whenever we aren’t cat sitting Toffee, who insists on eating petals like it’s his sole purpose in life, Logan brings me bodega flowers. He said he’s trying to make up for all the times he never got to. I still don’t spend money on that kind of thing, but I’ve come to love this gesture. And that it makes him happy. Which makes me happy.
I take the bouquet from him, giving him a kiss in return.
He nods toward the lanterns I’ve been browsing. “You want to get some for the apartment?” Logan asks.
