Chapter Twenty-Seven The Cookie’s Full Circle
I get dressed very carefully the next morning for the festival.
Not only because I’m going to see a lot of people and will be on the stage for my speech, but also because today I want to play that game.
I want the perfect curated outfit that will give me strength when I see Miles.
After that lunch with Mom and Dad (still can’t believe that happened—so weird), I’m not as mad at Miles anymore.
It’s not that I want to get back together with him—he did keep something huge from me, and I can’t forget that—but I’m not going to avoid talking to him. And also…
This whole thing showed me that Miles and I aren’t compatible as a couple anyway.
I totally understand why he took the job now, and I get why Love Street has to change, but a part of me can’t help thinking that Miles will always make the practical choice.
He values change and progress. He’s pragmatic.
But romance is sentimental . It’s believing in fate.
Miles will never be a hopeless romantic, not with his girlfriends and not in his life.
And that’s okay, but it’s not what I want.
After that talk with my parents, all I can think about is if Miles and I stayed together, one day our differences would make us miserable, just like theirs made Mom and Dad so unhappy.
And neither of us wants to end up like our parents.
But that doesn’t mean Miles and I can’t be friends.
Heck, even my mom and dad are kind of becoming friends now.
My outfit starts with the Love on Love Street volunteer shirt.
We had them made in either pink or red, and of course I chose a pink one.
It’s a perfectly fitted T-shirt with the festival logo screen printed onto it—a heart with the words LOVE ON LOVE STREET in the middle, made to look like a neon sign.
I pair the T-shirt with wide-legged dark jeans and my floral six-hole Doc Martens.
And I add my silver filigree locket as a choker—the one that still has that fortune about love in it.
I smile, remembering the day I found it right before we started working on this festival.
It said my life was going to change because of love…
and it was right. The Love on Love Street Festival changed my life more than I would have imagined.
Mom and I drive the flower heart in the van to LOL Park at about seven in the morning.
It’s weird. All that… communicating at lunch yesterday made things feel different between us.
We’re, lighter with each other. I’m seeing her differently—not like my flaky mother, or as a struggling, divorced woman, or even as a woman whose husband cheated on her.
I’m seeing her as the person she’s always been.
A kick-ass, brilliant businesswoman who knows what she needs and goes after it. And who loves me fiercely.
By the time we have the flower heart in place, April shows up with the volunteers assigned to the floral heart.
Their job will be to protect the floral installation and to manage the crowd if a lot of people want pictures of it—which I’m really hoping will happen.
After giving them instructions, I go see Ms. Carothers, who is setting up the tile mural on the wall at the other side of the park.
“Sana!” she says when she sees me, and then she gives me a hug, which is weird because she’s my teacher.
Or I suppose she used to be my teacher. I keep forgetting I graduated from high school.
She’s wearing jeans, a red volunteer shirt, a red bandanna as a hair band, and red lipstick in the same shade as the T-shirt.
“This is fantastic,” she says. “Look at this wonderful festival you’ve put together.
I always knew you were a special kid, but this is phenomenal. ”
I grin. The table has already been set up, and she has a few volunteers—all art students from school—helping her.
Some are using tile nippers to cut reclaimed tiles into leaves and hearts, ready for people to purchase and write their message on before a volunteer helps them paste it on the mural.
The mural will be built on a huge piece of plywood, not directly on the wall.
This turns out to be a good thing, because now I know that this wall (which is actually the side of Mrs. Kotch’s bakery) won’t be here forever.
I’m hoping we find a permanent place here on Love Street for the mural afterward.
While I’m looking at the mock-up painting of the mural that Ms. Carothers has set up on an easel, Mom comes over. After admiring my teacher’s art, she turns to me.
“I took the van back to the store. All the street vendors have set up—go check them out. I think it will be chaotic after the gates open.”
I bite my lip. I was glad that Mom and I drove from the flower shop to the park because it meant I didn’t have to see Miles or Love Street yet.
We’re cochairs of this festival, but for the most part, the events and vendors in the park have been my responsibility, and the ones on the street have been Miles’s.
He’s probably there right now making sure the tables are okay and helping everyone get set up.
I do want to see him today, but also… I’m nervous.
Mom adds, “Miles and Jenn had to run up to the hardware store for duct tape or something. He’s not there.”
I exhale. “Okay. I’ll go take a look, then.”
I head over to the street.
The vendor booths are lining both sides of Love Street.
Of course, all the businesses on the street have booths.
I can see Mrs. Kotch, Grant from Miracle Egg, and April still setting up their tables.
There are also a handful of outside vendors—like a local beekeeper selling honey and beeswax items, Ali’s T-shirt shop, a handmade jewelry vendor, and a chocolate shop selling artisan chocolates.
I stop at April’s pet supply booth. She has a few stuffed animals wearing the I HEART MY HUMAN shirt, and pet scarves and leashes with hearts and the word “love” on it. Plus, more pet supplies and clothes.
“This all looks fantastic,” I say.
April nods. “Thanks to you and Miles.”
I shake my head. “Thanks to the whole committee. I love the consistency of all the tables having white tents and red tablecloths. And everything is so on theme.”
“I thought Miles was being a little too hands-on micromanaging our tables,” April says. “He spent over an hour with each of us last week to go over what we’d be selling and how it would be displayed. It paid off.”
I knew Miles was in charge of the vendors for the festival, but I had no idea he’d worked so closely with each individual one. “Really?”
April nods. “He had a hand in each of these tables. He even found that jewelry designer who makes a ton of heart-shaped stuff.”
I go to see the jewelry designer next, introducing myself as the cochair of the festival, and admire her pieces made of bent silver or gold wire.
There are heart-shaped pendants, rings, and dangling earrings.
My eyes lock onto a pair of hoop earrings made of wire bent into the word “love” at the bottom of the hoop.
“Oooh,” I say. “I need these.”
As I’m paying for the earrings, the artist compliments my heart necklace. My hands go to it immediately. “Oh, thanks. It’s a vintage locket.” I show her how it opens to reveal the tiny folded paper inside.
“Oh wow. I love lockets,” the artist says. “Is that paper special?”
I nod. “It’s a fortune cookie fortune I found once.”
I move on to chat with the other vendors. As I’m chatting with Asha, Mom’s occasional part-timer, I notice that the banners and signs at the entrance to the festival have been put up. I don’t see Miles, so I go peek at the signs.
This is the first time I’m seeing them since they came back from the print shop, and I can’t get over how fantastic they look.
The big LOVE ON LOVE STREET sign with the logo is hanging high over the entrance, and there’s a big standing sign that says LOVE FROM OUR COMMUNITY TO YOU, with a collage of pictures submitted by members of the Love Street BOA.
This sign was Julie’s idea, and she asked us to give her pictures of us that represent love.
I find Julie and Ajit’s wedding picture first, with Julie wearing a Korean hanbok and Ajit in an ornate South Asian sherwani.
There’s a picture of April with huge nineties hair with her arms around a tall-haired boy from her prom.
There’s one of Alain in his restaurant with his arms around his eight-year-old sons, and an old picture, maybe from the seventies or early eighties, of Mr. and Mrs. Kotch outside an old car in downtown Toronto.
There’s one of Reggie barbecuing in a park with what I assume is his entire extended family around him, and one of Ben and his husband holding up an empanada.
I laugh when I notice one of Cara and Sarina, with Sarina looking straight at the camera and Cara kissing her on the cheek.
They look so happy. My father and Noureen aren’t coming today, but I wonder if Sarina and Cara intended this picture as a way of going public with their relationship.
And speaking of my father, my eye unexpectedly catches a picture of him smiling.
He’s sitting on an old sofa, with his arm around Mom.
It looks to be about twenty years ago. Or almost eighteen, I suppose, because Mom is holding a white blanket-wrapped baby in her arms. Me.
I lean close because I’ve never seen this picture before. After my parents separated, neither of them had any old albums or frames accessible. Why did Mom submit this picture? A family that broke up years ago is hardly appropriate to represent love.