Mambo in Chinatown

We stopped by a stand that sold paper lanterns and traditional cookies in the shape of pigs and fish. Mo Li bought a lantern in the form of a butterfly, I got one that looked like a colorful glass rabbit and Zan, of course, bought a modern one in the shape of a bulldozer. As a child, I’d been so excited to walk through the streets at night with my lit paper lantern swinging from a stick in my hands.

Zan said, “Do you want to buy one for Lisa?”

I shook my head and pointed to the large roped-off area we were approaching. A sign read “Lantern-Painting Contest.” Among the many families sitting at the long tables were Pa and Lisa, both frowning in concentration over the round white lanterns they were working on. Lisa looked up, saw us, waved and bent over her lantern again.

Mo Li laughed. “Better not disturb them further. They look serious.”

I said, “First prize is a couple of boxes of mooncakes and you know how much Lisa loves those.” Mooncakes were dense, sweet delicacies filled with white or yellow lotus-seed paste, with a salty egg yolk in the middle, looking like the full moon.

Zan asked, “How is she?”

When I’d told them what had happened, they’d both been horrified. “It’s something she’ll need to carry with her for the rest of her life but she’s working on it. She’s happier than I’ve seen her in a while. She’s started at Hunter and loves it.”

Behind us, Ryan’s voice called, “Wait up.” He was holding a beautifully wrapped orchid, which he must have bought at one of the stands. “This is for you.”

While Zan and Mo Li cooed, I swallowed. “It’s in a pot. I don’t think I can keep it alive.”

Everyone laughed. Ryan said, “I’ll help you.”

As he trailed behind us, I asked Zan, “Did you ever see Todd at your egg cakes cart again?”

She blushed. “Every day. Actually, we’ve taken a few walks together after I finish work.”

Mo Li and I raised our eyebrows.

Zan said, “He’s stopped working for the Vision. He’s setting up as a psychic for himself and he’s already doing pretty well.”

I asked, “How’s the Vision taking it?”

“She’s so mad, but there’s nothing she can do about it. I think she’s going to lose most of her customers to him.”

Mo Li tapped me on the shoulder. “There’s your old noodle restaurant.”

I turned to Ryan. “That’s where I worked as a dishwasher.”

He said, “And look at you now.”

—

Later that evening, Ryan was waiting for me downstairs from our apartment. His white shirt beneath his jacket glowed faintly in the gathering shadows. I took his arm and led him down the street. When we got to the park, the sky was half lit by the sunset, balanced between day and night. The sky grew darker and it began to rain. We went slowly because the ground was uneven. The rain made the wisps of his hair stick to his face. We were at the foot of the bridge. The water roared underneath.

“Ryan, will you help me with something?” I told him about trying to cross the bridge with my eyes closed, how steep and dark it had seemed. I took his hand and we stepped onto the bridge. I closed my eyes, then reached my right hand out to the wet stone. Ryan held my hand on the other side. His hand was warm in the chill evening air. We began to walk. The rain in the leaves overhead swirled with the wind, roaring like an ocean above us. I stumbled, but now we were guiding each other. We fell into step together as I kept my eyes closed. The water droplets felt cool against my eyelids.

We went a bit faster, and a little more, and then we were at the place where the bridge peaked. The rain seemed to fall harder. The slope began and we went faster and faster, the rain drenching our wet clothes, and we began to run. I let go of the rail, I heard Ryan laughing as we took flight. I was half afraid that any moment we would tumble off the steps, but we were still going and then we were at the stairs, racing down them, and somehow the steps were behind us and we were ru

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First of all, I’d like to thank all of my readers for their support and great kindness. And to those who have co

There are so many people who have contributed to this book. The two foremost in my mind are my incredible agent, Suza

I’m indebted to all of the wonderful people at Riverhead Books and Penguin Random House. You’ve worked so hard for me and my books, and I consider you both friends and colleagues. Thank you for believing in me, most especially Geoff Kloske and Susan Petersen Ke

I’m so thankful to everyone at Fred Astaire East Side Studio in New York City, especially legendary dancers and coaches Marina and Taliat Tarsinov, who trained and supported me as a ballroom dancer from the very begi

My dear writer friends and readers Katrina Middelburg-Creswell and Sari Wilson—thank you so much for your wisdom, support and insight all along the way. So many others have contributed to this book and I’m thankful to you all, especially psychic Etty van der Graaf, William Guo, Stan Lou, Hoi Wing Louie, Meridith Messinger, neurologist Scott Mintzer, Gary Lao Hu Mono, Patrick van Rij (Van Rij Hoevenier), Jet Robnett, David Roodman, Jason and Naomi Tong, Elliot Wolf, and authors Benedict Jacka and Pete Jordan. Close friends who have always stood by my side include Julie Voshell, Alex Kahn, Stuart Shapiro, Jon Sherman and Lisa Do