Wendy and her birds are nowhere to be found. Toffee really must’ve done a number on Doc and Marty.
We look everywhere, squeezing our way through the crowd. It seems like everyone in New York City showed up here tonight. In the middle of the street are costumed dancers and musicians. When there’s a break in the rain, people trickle out from their hiding spots under store awnings, picking up where they left off at food and shop stalls.
“Today is the Moon Festival. It’s a Chinese holiday that takes place every fall. There’ll be lion dances and celebrations all night,” Hazel explains. “Hey, have you ever had a mooncake?”
“A what?”
“I’ll be right back,” she says, disappearing behind a family in color-coordinated shirts.
As I wait, I continue to look for Wendy. My search is interrupted by my phone buzzing in my pocket.
“Mom, hi. What’s up?” I ask, distracted.
“What’s wrong?”
My knee-jerk response is “Nothing’s wrong.” I adjust the phone between my ear and shoulder, along with my tone. “I’m just in the middle of something.”
“You’re still coming up next month, right?” she asks. “I’m figuring out how many potatoes I need.”
“Is Warren actually retiring this time, or is this another trial run?”
“He is, and it would mean a lot if you were there.”
“I’m planning on it, but some work stuff has popped up.”
“Issues?”
I set my jaw. “There are always bumps in the beginning. All good, I’m working through it!” My upbeat tone sounds forced. “It’s…” Disorganized. Behind schedule. Messy. “A busy time.”
I’m saying this more to myself, I realize, but Mom says, “Sounds like an opportunity in disguise. Be grateful for busy. That means you’ve got big things going on.”
“It just might be hard to get away. Can I keep you posted?”
“Okay. Sure. Of course,” she says, attempting to cover her disappointment. “Remember, Logan, life never gives you more than you can handle at once.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m looking forward to seeing everyone.”
“Keep your head up!” Mom says more peppily this time. “Good things happen for you. They always do.”
We hang up and I take a second. This show needs to go well. It’s my first big—and maybe only—shot. It’s like Mom said: Good things happen for me. I need for that not to change.
Hazel’s back with what must be a mooncake. “I got us a black sesame snow skin one,” she says, handing me half of a small, rounded pastry. It’s slightly cool to the touch, the translucent white exterior revealing black filling.
I bite into it. It tastes a little sweet and nutty, the snow skin smooth on my tongue. “Chewy.”
“These are going for double what they cost a few years ago,” she says. “Who knew mooncake inflation would hit so hard?”
“When we get our money, you’ll be able to buy all the mooncakes you want without worry.” I toss the rest of my half into my mouth.
Hazel looks at me uncertainly. “I don’t know what that’s like. To buy anything without worry.”
“I know you literally just agreed to the money, but have you thought about how you want to accept it? Because we’re splitting one ticket, we can’t take it two different ways,” I say. “I’m thinking lump sum. Yes, we’d get less—we’d hit a higher income tax bracket and owe a ton of taxes—but we’d get it all at once. That might be more useful, especially if you need it for hospital bills.”
She shakes her head quickly. “We should take the annuity option.” She pulls up a spreadsheet on her phone. “See? We’ll get payments for the next thirty years until our amount is fully paid off. And we’d get graduated payments, so every year the annual amount increases.”
“True, but with the lump sum, we can invest more of it right away.”
“Annuity accounts for that.”
