Epilogue
PARKER
Three years later
“Parker, the game’s on.”
Nathan has come into the kitchen to help himself to a beer, and he stares at me expectantly from the fridge.
I glance at Dani, still flipping through her three-inch-thick binder, and Má, who’s watching over her shoulder.
Her reading glasses slide down her nose as her face twists in concentration.
Dani’s own expression mirrors that focus, though the undertone of panic is a little more obvious.
At the center of our huddle is an impromptu seating plan on the kitchen counter, Post-it notes and red X’s scattered all across it.
I shoot him a look, opening both hands in disbelief and mouthing, Seriously?
“The Niners are on.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I throw my head back and gesture to the chart as Dani adds another Post-it, then immediately peels it off. “Can’t you see we’ve got more important things going on?”
Thursday Night Football is the last thing on my mind.
We’ve got a crisis at hand, with the worst possible timing.
Dani’s aunt just found out that her ex-husband is bringing his new twenty-two-year-old girlfriend as his plus-one to our wedding.
Her frenzied phone call ended with a demand to put at least four tables between them, which means we have to rearrange the entire Tsai side now, less than twenty-four hours before the reception.
“Can you put your aunt here?” Má offers, pointing to a circle two away from the head table.
Dani winces. “That’s where Dà Gu is sitting, and they can’t stand each other. They’ll bicker all night.”
I start drawing up a new card for the seating board. It’s a good thing we opted for handwritten. “Maybe we can retract your uncle’s plus-one?”
“No, we can’t do that now.” She taps her pen against the marble countertop. “Would it be totally awful if I seated the girlfriend at the kids’ table?”
Before I can tell her how perfect that idea is, she shakes her head and goes back to scrawling on another Post-it. Her features sharpen with intensity, heightened by her catlike eyes. That happens whenever she’s deep in thought. God, she’s so pretty. No, Parker! Now’s not the time!
Dani catches me mid-thought and gives my hand an encouraging pat. “You can watch the game. One of us should get to unwind before the wedding.”
“And let you hog all the stress to yourself? No way.” I kiss the top of her head and take a moment to stretch in my seat.
Since the planning began ten months ago, I’ve been trying to be as involved as possible.
Not just because I want to take the load off Dani, but because I care about the wedding as much as she does.
The venue, guest list, catering, and every Post-it attached to each respective heading—I know that binder inside-out by now.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll catch the highlights later.”
She gives me a sweet smile before returning to the chart. Oof, my heart.
“Why can’t you send some of them to our side?
You can even stick ’em with the Phams for a good time.
Má’s side is always a party.” Nathan attempts to lift a sticky labeled Tsai #3.
As he invades our space, the beer bottle in his hand spurts a single droplet, landing an inch from Dani’s binder.
Her face turns white. A terrified gasp leaves my lips.
Má shouts, “Ch?t r?i!” and curses at him in Vietnamese.
“Nathan, go away!” Dani flaps a hand at him, and as her arm flails in the air, the three-carat diamond on her finger catches the light from overhead. Nathan groans, covering his eyes.
“Dani, what did I tell you about waving that thing around? You’re going to flag an airplane down on us!”
He hasn’t spared us the jokes since we came home last Thanksgiving and broke the news of our engagement.
As it turns out, Dani’s supposed aversion to water disappeared when the chance arose to take my sailboat out on New York Harbor.
One evening, with the sun setting over the Manhattan skyline, I got down on one knee and asked her to be my wife.
See, I knew holding onto that boat would reap its benefits: If you can get far enough out on the water, you’ll find the perfect moment to be alone.
Dani cried, and I did too, but no one shed more tears than my mother as she broadcast our announcement on Facebook Live for relatives in Vietnam I’ve never met.
Dani’s phone buzzes on the counter, and I see the flash of terror in her eyes. What last-minute disaster awaits us now? She taps at it frantically and sighs.
“Tae-woo won’t stop texting me,” she says through clenched teeth.
“Between him, Charlotte, and Reggie, I don’t know who’s being the biggest pain.
They’re the only ones who booked hotels in Portland because the Silverpine Inn wasn’t bougie enough for them.
Now I have to deal with all their questions about which Portland club is popping off or where all the hipster hotties hang. ”
I hold out my hand, signaling for her phone. “Give me that.”
Me: This is Parker. Go take a walk. Fall into the Willamette River for all I care. But from now on, you’re banned from texting the bride.
I set the phone down and rub my temples.
Great, now it’s starting to get to me. We flew in from New York a few days ago to start preparations, and everything has been a blur since we landed.
Having the wedding in Silverpine was a given, but that also meant having two-thirds of our guest list fly in.
You never really grasp how many people you know until they’re all asking you where the best brunch spot is.
No matter. I have to keep it together. For Dani.
“You’re really not going to watch the game?
” Nathan is glaring at me over the lip of his beer.
He can’t seem to comprehend the urgency here.
Ironic, because he was a lot less distracted when he thought he’d be planning his own wedding, back when Irene was still in the picture.
“What, did the Giants make you switch your loyalty from the Niners?”
“Hey.” I point a stern finger at him. “None of that blasphemy.”
New York was the obvious choice for Dani and me.
Venture didn’t have any transfer openings, but the sting of disappointment didn’t last long.
In a couple weeks, Reggie lined up an interview for me with the New York Giants’ marketing team.
As soon as I received an offer from them, I handed Venture my two-week notice and bade farewell to my six years in San Francisco.
The fact that Dani didn’t have a Giants joke in her arsenal told me she was feeling more guilty than she let on.
I had to remind her what a sweet deal my new gig is.
Not only do I get to return to my football roots, but I never have to sit through another client dinner again.
There are other forms of torture I’d choose over some fossil who’s never left the western hemisphere explaining sushi to me.
When all was said and done, we moved to an apartment in Manhattan to make my drive in and out of Jersey a little easier. Now, instead of being forced to appear at launch parties, I get to clock out at five and go straight home to the only person I want to hear ramble about food.
“Con, go to the hotel now, before it gets too late,” Má says to me in Vietnamese, adding, “It’s unlucky for the bride and groom to spend the night together before the wedding.”
“I’ll leave once Dani goes to bed.”
“I don’t think she’s going to sleep tonight,” Nathan whispers as we watch her flip to the allergy portion of her binder to triplecheck it against the menu.
“Then I won’t either.”
“Everyone here, go to bed before midnight.” Má’s voice is a rigid warning to the room. “Don’t forget, tomorrow morning is the tea ceremony.”
Asian weddings have an excess of traditions, most of which Dani and I decided to forgo to keep the celebration as low-key as possible.
But we agreed to do a tea ceremony. It’s a good thing there’s so much overlap in Vietnamese and Taiwanese traditions, because with this, we’ve managed to placate both sides.
Which reminds me, I have to go over the Tsai family tree again tonight.
Imagine the horror of calling an auntie by the wrong title after she’s just handed me a bulky red pocket stuffed with cash.
“You kids skipped over so many customs, I’m surprised you even considered the tea ceremony.
” Dani’s dad strides into the kitchen to offer his input.
Because what’s family for, if not to backseat-drive your big day?
“Do you remember your cousin Jeff’s wedding with the traditional Chinese banquet?
It was so beautiful! They even included a lion dance! ”
Dani throws me a quick glance. I’m well versed in these by now. This one’s saying, Whatever comes next, under no circumstances are you to say yes. “You guys should add that in! A lion dance is supposed to bring you good fortune.”
After selling the house, her father moved into a row home in Philadelphia, not far from Nathan’s condo in Fishtown.
I hear they actually hang out, which makes me laugh considering how dramatic we were about not being neighbors anymore.
Turns out our families are closer than ever.
The two-hour commute to Manhattan also means Mr. Tsai (or Dad soon) drops in every few weeks so we can tackle Dani’s ultimate foodie spreadsheet.
Saying goodbye to her childhood home took some adjusting, but I can tell it means more to Dani to have her father around, and not just for the holidays.
Twenty family counseling sessions (and twenty pints of Morgenstern’s ice cream) later, the progress is in the small concessions, like how she’s about to hold her tongue no matter how ridiculous she thinks it is for him to suggest a lion dance.
“I think it’s a little too late for that, Dad,” she tells him calmly, but like a flipped switch, she suddenly gasps. My pulse skyrockets. “Oh my god, I forgot!”