Chapter 41
Minutes, maybe hours, pass before Marcella finds me.
“Can you take me home?” I ask her, trying not to cry.
I’m quiet on the drive home and Marcella doesn’t press me for details. When we get to my house, she follows me in and immediately opens up a bottle of wine and guzzles it straight from the bottle. “You’re going to turn me into an alcoholic,” she finally says. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I lie down on my rug and groan. “I can’t believe myself.”
Betty is squawking so loud that Marcella lets her out of her cage and the chaotic flapping of her wings is a nice distraction for a second. We both stare at her as she swoops overhead before perching on the back of the sofa, near but not on me. I feel her judgment.
“So, am I right in assuming that Ellis and Daniel were fighting over you like two macho losers?”
Somehow, I manage to let out a huff of laughter. “Yes, you are correct.”
“And am I right in assuming it’s because Daniel caught you two in a compromising position?” She is keeping her voice even, to her credit. As if this isn’t the juiciest shit she’s ever heard.
“Kind of. We had just…finished. Making out! That’s it!” I say quickly before Marcella can spontaneously combust. “But it was clear what we were doing.”
“You chose today of all days to go for a bold lip,” she says sadly. “Years of me trying to convince you and this is how it happens.”
The hilarity of the situation cannot be avoided and soon we’re laughing so hard tears are coming out of my eyes, the kind of manic laughter that can turn into true tears on a dime. I take the wine from her and take a gulp. “Ellis said he loved me.”
“Oh my god. This guy!” But she’s not mad, she’s in love with him, too. “And?”
“And…” I stare off into the distance, my eyes catching on the sycamore tree that needs pruning in my front yard. My chest clenches. “And I didn’t say anything.”
Mar’s quiet.
“And then he left.”
A sigh as big as the world leaves her. “Damn.”
“Yeah. I think I like Ellis more than Daniel. Actually, I think maybe I love him.”
Marcella nods her head. “This is…obvious to me.”
I throw a pillow at her head. “But was it just because he was there first? Maybe because I can’t have him, knowing my fate, I keep getting tempted?”
“Tempted? Who are you, Jesus?”
“No, but I would have to be to resist Ellis.”
“Okay, wow.” Marcella sits up straighter, her back against my Danish armchair, and runs her hands through her hair. “I am seeing how deep your feelings for Ellis are if you are acting this chaotic. Cass, you need to—”
She’s interrupted by a knock on the door. Mar gives me a questioning look then walks to the door and looks through the keyhole. “It’s Sunny.”
I sit up as she opens the door. Sunny rushes in, looking strangely disheveled despite her usual impeccable outfit. “Is everything okay?” I ask her, alarmed.
Her eyes stay on her feet as she takes off her slingback heels. “Not really. We have to talk.”
The serious tone makes me panic. “Is it Halmoni? Stu? You?”
She waves her hand in the air. “No, no, everyone’s okay. But…well.” She glances at Mar. “Can we have a moment alone?”
Mar looks surprised but nods. “Of course! I’ll head out actually, to give you two some privacy.” She grabs her bag and then gives me a tight hug. “Call me later, okay?”
When she leaves, Sunny sits on the sofa and pulls her legs up into herself, making herself into a tiny ball. Her unease is palpable, and I nurse a tiny kernel of panic as I sit in my armchair. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“I really don’t know where to start,” she says, her voice low and shaking a little. She’s twisting her fingers in her lap. “Um, maybe I’ll start with how your parents met.”
A prickle up my spine. “My parents?”
She nods. “Yes, your parents. You know how they met, right?”
“Yeah.” I’m trying to make heads or tails of why Sunny wants to talk about this right now. “They met at art school.”
Even though my mom never loved talking too much about my dad, she did tell me the story of how they met and would bring it up casually at times.
Maybe she was avoiding the topic of my dad being this fraught, angsty thing in my life.
They met their first week at ArtCenter, a top art school in Pasadena.
“Yes, they did,” Sunny says. “And you know your mom had to be won over by your dad, right?”
“Obviously. Mom loved that part of the story.”
She smiles, but it’s sad. “I’m sure she did. But do you know why she resisted him?”
“She thought he was annoying,” I say automatically. “He came on too strong.”
“Maybe he did,” she says, her voice quavering again.
“But the real reason was…” Her voice trails off and her gaze goes to my bar cart.
“Can I have something to drink?” She gets up before I can answer and walks briskly over to the cart, grabbing the first bottle she can find—whiskey.
I watch as she pours herself a very full glass. With nothing else. “Whoa,” I say.
After tossing half of it down, she looks me in the eye, still standing. “Your mom didn’t like your dad because…because she knew he was her fated.”
“Sunny. What are you saying?” I ask, my voice sounding way calmer than I feel.
After my mother died, her life was a cautionary tale. When I was ten, my ballet class was performing Swan Lake for our big recital, and I was deeply disturbed by the story. The couple weeks leading up to it, I had fallen into a melancholy that my grandparents couldn’t snap me out of.
Then, as Halmoni helped me get ready for the recital, I confessed to her that I was afraid of being left behind by everyone in my life. I thought of the prince who plunged to his death once he realized he couldn’t be with his true love. How they could only be together in death.
“People who find their fated don’t die alone,” Halmoni said to me firmly while plaiting my hair into a braid, then pulling it up into a tidy bun. “We are fated to find our person.” The unspoken words were that my mother, having abandoned her fate, had died without a person.
My father.
Sunny looks like she might throw up. “I am saying that, when your mom met Matthew, she knew who he was. Because Halmoni had read Evette’s face when she turned eighteen and given her his name.”
“No, no that can’t be right,” I say. “Mom rebelled—she rejected all of this!”
“Yes, she did. But Halmoni insisted Evette should know so that she didn’t end up with one of the bad boys she was always drawn to.
So, Evette knew who Matthew was when they met, and wanted nothing to do with it.
With him. But he was persistent. He was completely smitten by her.
” Her voice softens and I don’t know how to feel.
What the hell is this? “They started dating a couple years into school and then she got pregnant with you.”
I clutch my chest. “But…but he left.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “He did. He couldn’t handle having a kid that young, and your mom, she wanted to have you. She told me she knew you were special, and you are!”
I ignore her attempt at kindness. “But it makes no sense! How could he leave her if he was her fated?”
Sunny looks miserable when she sits down next to me. “I don’t know, honey. We were all shocked. It was beyond comprehension that this could happen, and that it could happen to Evette, who was so rebellious about it in the first place. Their relationship already so hard-won.”
“Sunny. Everything…everything I believe about life and love is based on fated matches.” My voice gets louder, angry. “Have you all been lying to me this entire time?”
“No!” She pauses after she says it. “I mean, in a way yes, but not about fateds and past lives. You have the gift, you see it for yourself!”
“Then why lie about Mom? And why tell me now?” I get up and start pacing the room. As if sensing something, Betty follows me, swooping back and forth. It’s oddly comforting.
“Because of Ellis!” she cries out, emotional in a way that is so unlike Sunny.
“I saw that fight and then I saw you talking to Ellis after. And I realized we’ve made a huge mistake keeping this from you.
Not to mention your reaction to Daniel saying he wasn’t sure about being a dad.
I saw how it shocked you. And I just…I don’t want you being with someone just because he’s your fated! ”
“My god, Sunny—that is the entire fucking point!” I am yelling now, my heart thudding in my chest, my skin feeling itchy and hot.
She drops her head into her hands. “I know, Cass, I know. But I owe it to your mom to tell you. I can’t let her daughter make the wrong decision because of this!”
The anguish in her voice mellows my anger and instead fills me with intense sadness. I stop in front of her. “What do you mean you owe it to Mom?”
“Do you think Halmoni would have let me wait until I was in my late forties to meet my fated if it wasn’t for Evette?” she asks.
“You mean, Mom dying?” I ask, so discombobulated.
She shakes her head. “Halmoni always regretted Evette staying with your dad,” she says, her eyes shiny with tears.
“She thinks because she forced her fated on Evette that Evette…Well, all the things that went wrong were because of that. And so, with me, she gave me room to figure it out. And we decided to make it a rule that we wouldn’t read faces without explicit permission.
See? If it wasn’t for your mom, I would have also been coerced into finding Stu much earlier.
Much earlier than I was ready. I owe my happiness to her. ”
I take in a breath, on the verge of tears. “Sunny. This is so much to take in.”
She stands up and grasps my hands. “I know, I’m so sorry Cass.
I really thought once you met Daniel, it would all be fine.
But that dinner…I got scared. Then this fight between Daniel and Ellis.
And when I saw you and Ellis together the morning of your birthday, I don’t know, something about it rang true to me.
I could tell that when you found Daniel it wasn’t an easy decision. ”
I’m shocked by this. “You…you’ve been skeptical of Daniel all this time?”
She shakes her head. “Not skeptical. Cautious. And I was really, truly happy that things seemed to be going so well between you two.”
“But you think now it’s not?” My voice is grim.
“No, not necessarily. I just want you to have all the facts,” she says. “Matthew would want you to know, too.”
Something about the way she says my dad’s name makes me sit up. “Do you…Do you keep in touch with him?”
I can tell she wants to lie to me, her eyes cagey. But she slumps. “Not really. Just…sometimes he reaches out to me to ask about you.”
“Oh my god!” I truly cannot handle all this information. “Sunny, this is beyond fucked up.”
“He didn’t want you to know!” she says. “It’s not like we’re close! But he’s your father, Cass!”
“Only by blood,” I say viciously fast.
“Yes, of course,” she says. “I’m not defending him, okay?”
“Does this mean you know where he is?” I ask.
She nods, hesitant. “Yes. He lives in Michigan.”
“Wow.” It’s all I can muster right now. “And you have his phone number?”
“Yes.” Then she pulls out her phone, an idea forming. “I’m giving you his info, okay? I think it would help you to talk to him.”
My phone vibrates when her text arrives and I almost recoil. “Are you out of your mind? Why would I want to talk to him?”
“There’s only one other person in this world who knows what went on in their relationship,” she says. “Don’t you want to know more? To help you figure things out with Daniel?”
My head swims. “I don’t know what I want, Sunny. This is all so fucking much. And it’s hard for me to even believe you.”
She looks hesitant for a moment before she reaches into her bag and pulls out something. “Maybe this will convince you.” She hands me a wood box inlaid with mother-of-pearl and abalone in images of cranes and flowers.
“What’s this?” I am suspicious of everything.
She puts it in my hands. “Open it.”
I open the little metal latch. The box is lined in hot-pink silk. Lying in it is a single item—a piece of paper. I pull it out. It’s our handmade paper.
On it is a name, stitched in thread: Matthew Lee
The breath is knocked out of me. Until this point, there was the possibility of Sunny lying to me. That everything remained as I thought.
But here’s the truth. Sitting in the palm of my hand. Then I notice the thread color. It’s black, not white. “Why…why is it black?”
Sunny shakes her head. “We think it’s because their connection broke. We’ve never seen it before or since.”
I look up at Sunny with tears in my eyes and she pulls me into a hug. I start sobbing into her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Cass,” she whispers. “I love you. I want you to have the world.”