Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Marcus: Jobless + no Mei = Slowest day in my personal history. Can you get off early? Pull the fire alarm? Fake an injury? Just something that will get you home faster?? Anywayyyyy…continuing our game of Go Fish…
Mei: If you win, I’ll do something minimally criminal and come home early.
Marcus: DO YOU HAVE A GREEN SHARK?
Mei: ………go fish.
Marcus: *#!@#
J erry’s vintage truck rounds the corner into the neighborhood, and I smile. Finally. I’ve been at the restaurant since 11AM and was ready to come home to Marcus before I even left him to go to work. Since he quit his job at the warehouse yesterday, I’ve schemed ways of going home early all day, but Jerry needed help with inventory. It took a long time, and he kept checking the clock, then asking me to cross check everything. I can’t be annoyed with him after everything he’s done for us and it’s a good thing he had me double check my numbers; my head was home with Marcus, laughing so hard at something he said that I had to run to the bathroom or pee my pants. Dancing around the kitchen in our pajamas and seeing who could slide the farthest across the wood floor in socks. I win every time, and I bet he practiced while I was gone.
We pull into Jerry’s drive, but the house is dark. No porch lights, no yellow glow in any of the windows, and I frown. “It’s so dark. Wen never goes to bed this early,” I say, gathering my satchel and jacket.
Jerry waves his hand. “Oh, she’s probably tired tonight since she stayed up way too late listening to one of her true crime podcasts last night.” He glances at the gate that leads to the cottage, then the dashboard clock. “I’m sure Marcus will be very glad to have you home, so go put him out of his misery.” He looks at the gate again, and I almost expect Marcus to be standing there, but he’s not.
“Have a good night, Jerry, and thanks for the ride. I hope Wen doesn’t have nightmares from all those podcasts.” I shake my head. “There’s no way I could listen to those. I like to pretend crime doesn’t exist.”
“Me too.” He throws me a sympathetic smile, and I wonder how much Guo Mama has told him about my past. They’ve never said a word about it, and for that, I’m grateful. He and Wen have been like parents to Marcus and me, and my heart has grown roots here in the tiny cottage in their backyard, knowing they’re steps away. “We’re going to miss you. Thanks for watching out for us.”
“Thanks for your help at the restaurant, Mei Li. I think you’ll like the bonus you’ll get with your final paycheck. I wish it could be a bribe to make you stay but I’m happy for you kids.”
“Please don’t, Jerry. You’ve already left money on our counter every week, and that was never part of the deal.”
“I can’t help it. I like you two. It’s my only way to say it.”
I wipe away tears that slip out. “Jerry, that’s just so?—”
“Now, now. We aren’t talking like this yet. I don’t like it.” He checks a text on his phone and nods toward the gate. “Besides, I’m sure Marcus is waiting so we can talk later, Mei Li.”
I say goodnight and slip out of the truck, walking toward the gate, but pause when the motion sensor light that usually flicks on doesn’t. Hurrying through the gate and down the path, I squint in the darkness, but as I round the corner of the house, something crunches under my right foot. I freeze, imagining my shoe landing on one of the giant garden snails that also shares our path. When I dare lift my shoe, a crushed fortune cookie lays in shards on the brick. I brush crumbs off the bricks, so ants won’t invade, then pick up the pieces and toss them in the garbage bin on my way to the cottage. But I stop when there’s another fortune cookie in the middle of the bricks. And another one a few steps later, a whole trail of them stretching straight to the cottage door.
Frowning through a smile, I pick up each one on my way to the door. When I open it, my eyes follow the trail of fortune cookies spiraling around the room toward the table. But the only sign of Marcus is the lit candle with a book next to it. He’s been reading by candlelight lately—something he said his dad does.
“Marcus?” I call, shutting the door behind me. I drop my bag and the pile of cookies on the table right next to Buddha. He’s wearing a tiny paper party hat, and there’s a heart drawn with metallic silver Sharpie on his belly: a note taped to it that says OPEN ME.
My stomach leaps at Marcus’s handwriting. I peel the note off Buddha and carefully unfold it: “ Mei Li Miller has a nice “ring” to it, don’t you think?”
My hand flies to my mouth. I read the note again. Mei Li Miller. Mei Li Miller. Ring. RING?! What ring? Where? I look around, but it’s just Buddha on the table. Mei Li Miller?!
The bathroom door swings open, and I spin around as Marcus drops to both knees in front of me and takes my hand.
“Marcus…what are you doing?” My hand goes to my throat, unsure whether to cover my eyes to hide the tears threatening to spill or cover my mouth to prevent the squeal-sob that might come out. “What does this mean?” I hold up the note. “What are you saying…?”
He smiles, its light beaming up and spreading around me. “I’m saying…” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a fortune cookie, and holds it up to me. His eyes never leave my face as I open it and slide out the paper where Marcus has handwritten: YOU WILL MARRY MARCUS MILLER AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER?
I stare at the paper. Read it again.
“What are you saying?” My voice climbs, chased by hope, surprise, and a surge of emotion. “Are you saying now, or soon, or in two years, or…?”
“I’m saying marry me. Tomorrow.” He grins. “I’m down on not just one but both knees, begging you to say something like, ‘Of course I’ll marry you because I’m so madly in love with you, I’d be homeless with you for the rest of my life, or live on only turkey sandwiches, or ride a motorcycle to China if it means I get to marry you’.” His eyes spread neon blue around me. “Or you could just say yes if that’s easier.”
“Yes!” I blurt, nodding, crying, laughing. “YES! And all those other things but mostly just so many yeses. YES! Yes, yes, yes!”
Marcus hangs his head before looking up at me again. “This could’ve gotten super weird if you’d said no.”
I throw myself at him, knocking him backward on the floor with a grunt and squealing into his neck. I kiss him until I’m breathless.
“I love you, Mei,” he breathes. “Mei Li Miller…”
I squeal again, grabbing his face with both hands, and take complete control of his mouth.
He rolls me onto my back, kneeling over me, and slips a sharpie from his pocket. The smile lines around his mouth are deep and full of pride, and he takes my left hand and draws a circle around my ring finger.