Chapter 20
All the women of my family are at my house and Betty is about to punch a hole through the roof to escape them.
“Someone put this bird out of its misery,” Sunny says, covering her head when Betty swoops over her—purposely low, may I add.
It’s the day of the LACMA matchmaking event and everyone wants to make sure every part of my outfit, makeup, and hair is exactly right lest I show up looking like a bog woman and lose the love of my life before the romance has a chance to get started.
I’ve put on a Fleetwood Mac record to create the proper vibes for these boomers, and as usual Sunny makes fun of me for owning vinyl. I imagine it’s like when I make fun of a teenager for wearing a Nirvana T-shirt.
Several outfits are laid out on my bed, and my hair is in a towel turban, still wet from my shower. Emoni is in my bathroom getting my curling iron heated up so she can help me with my hair while Sunny and Halmoni survey my clothes and shoes.
“It’s not quite warm enough for this, but I love it.” Sunny holds up a black crotchet number with suede fringe.
“Too hippie,” Halmoni says dismissively. “What about this?” She’s pointing at a deep-blue knee-length dress that slips off the shoulders prettily and is cut on the bias.
I consider it. “It’s really nice but will make me think about how much I’m eating all night.”
“You don’t want that, you need to feel comfortable!” Emoni calls out from the bathroom.
“I agree,” I say. “Should I wear something looser?”
Both Sunny and Halmoni make disgusted sounds. “This is not the time to be avant-garde and all quirky Japanese street-style,” Sunny says. “You need to knock this man’s socks off. He has to know about this body.” She sweeps her arm over my general body.
“Yes, one look and done,” says Halmoni.
Nothing like being decades younger than people to feel like a desirable little snack. “Let me see what I might be overlooking,” I say as I pull out my phone.
Sunny comes over to see what I’m doing. “Don’t tell me you have an app for your clothes.”
“Of course I do,” I say. “Every single item of clothing I own is cataloged in here.”
“You have a disease,” Sunny says with a laugh. But then she stops as she sees the dresses populate on my screen. “Wait, that is amazing.”
“I know,” I say smugly. The app reminds me of a few dresses I have in a different closet. After a few more minutes of me hauling things out of garment bags, I lay out as many eligible pieces as I can on my bed.
Halmoni sits on the edge and runs her hand over the lacy sleeve of a butter-yellow dress. “Was this your mother’s? It looks familiar.”
“Yeah,” I say fondly. “I still have a few of her things, even if they’re all a bit too small for me.”
Halmoni nods but I see that her mind is somewhere else, somewhere in the past. It’s often painful for her to come to this house, the house her daughter made a home.
And, critically, the home where she died.
I feel the opposite. This house gives me comfort.
The memories aren’t sad for me, because they’re all I have.
“I was so relieved that Daniel wasn’t already married with kids,” Sunny says as she pulls out a stretchy, acid-green dress. I make a face and a note to self to add that to my resale box.
“I knew he wouldn’t be,” Halmoni says firmly.
“How did you know that?” I ask with a laugh, shaking my hair out of my towel. “It happens.”
“Rarely,” Halmoni says. It’s true—in some cases, with older clients, their fateds have already moved on, or picked different paths. In those cases, we put them in the pool of candidates who are in similar boats: ineligible or dead fateds.
Sunny picks up another dress. “Oh, how about this?”
It’s a long, silk fuchsia number that I wore to a friend’s movie premiere once.
It’s got a high Katharine Hepburn–esque boatneck with loose, dolman sleeves.
It cinches in neatly at the waist before flowing all the way down to ankle length.
The back opens with a deep V, and when I wear it, I look ten feet tall.
“Hmm, it’s not too much?” I ask, already feeling swayed.
“No, it’s just right.” Halmoni shoves it at me. “Try it on. Do you need the Spanx?”
I want to say no but wordlessly hold out my hand. I shut myself in my walk-in closet to give myself a shred of dignity while I maneuver into the Spanx and then the dress. It fits exactly how I remembered—perfectly without any real constraint.
When I step out into my room, everyone’s sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Oh, Cass,” Emoni breathes. “You look like an angel.”
“No, you look like a hottie,” Sunny says.
“Really, Sunny? Hottie?” I tease, but am pleased. Sunny still gets physical issues of Vogue delivered to her house and she doesn’t dole out compliments easily.
“It’s perfect,” Halmoni says with finality. “I can already see my future great-grandchildren.”
I almost trip on the hem of the dress. “Halmoni!”
“What?”
“Let’s just…take a beat,” I say, feeling my chest tighten.
Suddenly this night feels so high stakes.
Having this not work out with Daniel wouldn’t just mean failing Halmoni and all her hopes and dreams. It could mean ending the line of the family gift.
I’ve known this, but it hits me hard at this moment.
Sunny comes over to me to adjust the neckline, and the cool touch of her fingers instantly calms me. She squeezes my shoulder. “Umma, let’s not get into baby talk.”
“Just because you didn’t want any doesn’t mean that’s how Cassia feels!”
Emoni shakes her head. “Of course, Cassia wants children. The gift runs strongly through her. She’s just been waiting for her fated.”
Sunny closes her eyes. “Everyone. Stop. Let’s not ruin this for Cass before it even begins.”
I look at her gratefully. “We have bigger fish to fry. Which shoes?”
We pick out some strappy silver heels to go with my little jeweled clutch (vintage Dior that Sunny brought from home, thank you very much).
In the bathroom, Emoni and I nix the idea of waves and just blow out my hair so that I feel like a nineties supermodel.
I’m not always comfortable in a lot of makeup, but I agree with Emoni that this time I need to be a bit more dramatic.
She gives me a smoky eye and a bronzy highlight on my cheekbones and I’m done.
“Are you ready for the beginning of everything?” Sunny asks me, her tone only half teasing.
“I’ve been ready,” I say, but the conviction only runs through part of my body. The other part—well, it’s nervous. I know things will go well—it’s been predetermined—but I don’t know how the details will fill in yet.
Emoni tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look a lot like your mom tonight, more than usual.”
There’s a moment of quiet as they all look at me, and I can feel that they are not just looking at me but the ghost of my mother.
It’s both a gift and a burden to be able to give that to them.
I’ve now lived eight years longer than she did—everyone in this room has known me longer than they knew my mother.
Later, I catch Halmoni looking at a painting in the kitchen, a small oil painting of a K-Town strip mall.
My mom’s, of course. It’s the first One & Only office.
There’s a neon sign, the sky blue-gray, and a red sedan is parked in front of the office.
Halmoni’s hand covers her mouth. “Oh. That’s my car. ”
“Really?” I peer at it. “I always wondered why there was only one in the entire parking lot.”
She nods, her lips tightly sealed in a line.
“It barely fit our whole family. But it was the first car we were able to buy, and I was so proud of it.” Her expression is faraway.
“Your mom and Sunny fought endlessly in the back seat. One time so viciously that Halabuji had to whip his arm back to separate them and he dislocated his shoulder.”
“Oh my god,” I say with a laugh. “Bet they behaved after that.”
“You would think,” she says dryly. “But your mom never let anyone have the last word. She kept all of us on our toes.”
The unspoken words hang over us as we stare at the painting.
That she brought chaos into both of our lives because her death was so utterly shocking.
We look at her paint strokes, so effortless and wild.
But when you step back, the painting is totally in control.
All the loose and breezy daubs of paint end up creating a feeling, a place.
A memory that has the ability to make you time travel.
Mom surprised you like that. Halmoni reaches for my hand and I hold it tight.
I don’t want to let her down, I don’t want to fill her life with any more pain.
And I won’t. That familiar steadiness comes over me.
A lifetime of happiness will start tonight.
My family heads back home to get ready themselves since I’ll be going to the museum early to oversee everything. I thank them, and before Halmoni shuts the door behind her she says, “Was this a good idea, or what?”
I brush my lips on her powdered cheek. “We won’t know until the end of the night. So, save your gloating.”
She doesn’t even try and hide her smug smile. “I’m already planning the wedding.”