Chapter 16

ROONEY

I brought this as my object,” I whisper to Jack as I pull a red thread between my fingers.

“So that she’d be a string artist like you?” he asks.

“So that she’d have a long life, but I like the way you think,” I say. “Your rocket ship was very on brand.”

Jack gives the plush a light squeeze. “We’re on a mission here. Find a lost object.”

“Vague,” I say. “And difficult. I don’t know if that’s more inspirational or anxiety-inducing.”

“We have to keep our eyes out for something. There’s a pile of things sitting over there. You think all of them have an owner?”

“Probably since people were told to bring them,” I say.

“We may need to rethink how we go about testing,” Jack says with a frown. “Reconsider some variables.”

“Okay, it’s fine. Let’s see what happens.”

We’re at Olivia and Bennett’s house in a part of town called Silver Lake. Their living room contains furniture in various earth tones that complement each other nicely. Hanging on the walls and resting on tables throughout are photographs and various mementos that naturally get collected over the course of a relationship. The observation sends a pang of longing through me.

“Rooney! So great to meet you,” Olivia says, bringing me back to the moment. She embraces me in a hug. I’ve never been hugged more in my life than I have here in Los Angeles. “Have you met my husband, Bennett, yet?”

After picking me up for the party, Jack prepped me about the hosts. He knows Bennett because they volunteer together in the same Shoot for the Stars group where they work to get kids interested in STEM. Olivia took over Lunar Love, her Pó Po’s matchmaking business, at the same time Bennett was launching his matchmaking app, ZodiaCupid. When they teamed up, business boomed, and they became a highly rated and sought-after matchmaking service.

A tall man with a friendly smile approaches us and nods to Jack. “Hi, I’m Bennett. You’re Rooney, right? This is baby June.”

“Nice to meet you both. Hi, baby June,” I say, looking up at her in Bennett’s arms. I lift a knitted stuffed tiger out of a glittery gift bag. The tiger has small bead eyes and a floppy long tail hanging off the back. “Chinese folklore says tigers are the king of all beasts. They possess protective powers to keep you safe.” I lean back. “I’ve said a lot of words that June can’t understand. Here.”

Olivia takes the tiger from my hands and offers me a big smile. “This is adorable. Thank you, Rooney.” She leans over to pick up a rust-colored cat and lifts his paw as though he’s waving to us. “This is Pinot.”

I proceed to talk to Pinot as though he, too, can understand words.

“Thanks for bringing objects,” Olivia says to us. “We thought this tradition was really special but wanted to incorporate everyone more by having them bring items that are meaningful to them.”

“I wouldn’t be mad, though, if June picked a calculator,” Bennett says, bouncing his daughter in his arms. She blinks up at us through brown eyelashes, her cheeks wide in a huge smile.

Pinot jumps out of Olivia’s arms when Olivia looks up at Bennett, her eyebrows raised. “What would you be mad at her picking?”

Bennett thinks for a moment. “I guess nothing. Because whatever she picks will be perfect, isn’t that right, June?” He boops her nose with his.

“Exactly. She’ll pick what she wants, but preferably she chooses the Chinese zodiac chart,” Olivia says playfully. She wraps her arm around Bennett’s waist and leans in to brush wispy hairs off June’s forehead.

“So you both teach kids about STEM?” I ask, looking between Jack and Bennett.

Bennett gently bounces June as he speaks, swaying side to side to the music lightly playing in the background. From small speakers in the corner of the room, Ella Fitzgerald sings about the moon.

“Every month we get together at Griffith Observatory. The kids call Jack the Star Guy,” Bennett says. “It’s sweet.”

A blush spreads from Jack’s cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“How adorable,” I say.

“And it’s not only because he has this shirt that’s covered in glow-in-the-dark stars,” Bennett elaborates. “This guy’s great at breaking down complex topics and making it interesting for these kids. Supernovas, black holes, weather on other planets, you name it. Did you know that, on Mars, sunsets are blue?”

I look up at Jack, and though his expression is neutral, his eyes are creased upward.

“That sounds beautiful,” I say.

Guests approach with objects in hand, trying to get Olivia and Bennett’s attention. Olivia accepts some objects, redirecting people when her arms are full. “We have to go get everything set up,” she says. “Nice to meet you, Rooney. See you, Jack.”

As she and Bennett move to the center of the living room, Jack leans closer to me. “Explain to me what this is again? I think I remember Gōng Gong talking about wishing my parents had done one for me. But I can’t remember specifics.”

“It’s a Chinese traditional ritual called zhuā zhōu. When children turn one, they pick one item from a variety of objects in front of them,” I say, watching as Olivia and Bennett try to figure out how to organize the objects.

“To play with, or?” Jack asks.

“The idea is that what June picks will determine her future, what she’ll be when she grows up. The calculator represents numbers and accounting, something entrepreneurial maybe. If June picks the pencil, maybe she’ll be a writer or lawyer. The tennis ball could mean she’ll be an athlete or coach. The keyboard for a software engineer, maybe. The apple for a chef, toy stethoscope for a doctor, building blocks for an architect. Your rocket plush for a systems engineer. And they included the phone, which for them probably represents the Lunar Love app. It’s all slightly interpretive.”

There’s a trace of a smile at Jack’s lips. “How symbolic.”

I nudge him with my shoulder. “So your Gōng Gong wanted you to do this, but your parents didn’t. Why?”

“They already knew what they wanted me to be,” he says.

After Olivia lines up an array of items, June is placed in a sitting position on a pink fuzzy blanket two feet away. She’ll crawl to whichever object she’s destined for.

“Thanks, everyone, for coming!” Olivia says, speaking loudly so we can all hear her from her kneeling position. Guests are sitting in the chairs and couches in the living room, with many of us standing behind the furniture to catch a glimpse of fate at its finest.

“We have so many wonderful items here. We eliminated duplicates of things like stethoscopes, calculators—two of which came from Bennett—and piggy banks. Everything you see came from someone here, except for this,” Olivia explains, holding up a tomato pin cushion. “This has been in Lunar Love’s lost and found for years now, which I thought added a fun element of surprise.”

Next to me, I feel Jack straighten his posture. He watches where Olivia places the object and looks over at me. “We need that pin cushion,” he whispers. “That’s it. For the test.”

“Sometimes,” Olivia continues, “we don’t realize we’re lost in something we believe in so deeply, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t be found.” She looks up at Bennett and smiles. His whole face lights up looking at her. I’m intrigued by their connection and the love between them. They’re stringmates, no doubt about it. The tingling sensation in my fingertips returns, a little more noticeable this time.

“How did Olivia and Bennett meet?” I whisper to Jack.

He steps even closer to me to answer, and I catch a whiff of his signature clove and forest scent. “I’ll tell you later. It’s a long story and involves a bet.”

Around us, guests take guesses about what June will pick from a variety of objects in front of her. When June makes her first crawling movement, everyone grows quiet in anticipation, all of us watching with eager eyes to see what she’ll do.

June moves her left hand forward, and there are a few gasps in the crowd.

“She’s going to be an editor!” Olivia’s sister Nina whispers to her husband when June inches closer to the pencil.

“Come on, June, don’t pick the tomato,” Jack says under his breath.

June turns to the right, instigating more chatter. She propels herself forward, grabbing the tomato pin cushion. She clings to it, her grip tight. Then, in a final burst of energy, she bolts through the line of objects and makes her way to the coffee table. She thrusts her arm toward a set of keys and pulls them down to the ground. Settling back into a sitting position, June has the tomato and keys in her lap.

Olivia and her auntie squeal with delight. “It’s the keys to Lunar Love!” Olivia tells everyone. “She’s going to take over Lunar Love one day and be a matchmaker like her mama, Auntie, and my Pó Po! And be a fashion designer. She’s a person of many talents!”

Jack lets out a long exhale and rolls up his sleeves. “Ready? You distract Olivia and baby June,” he whispers.

I hold my hand out to stop him. “Jack! We’re not stealing an object from a baby. We’ll need to find something else, but first can we acknowledge how unreal that was? We witnessed fate at work.”

“Are you crying?” Jack asks, turning his focus from the lost object back to me.

I wipe a tear from my eye. “Truthfully, I wish I had more tears in me to shed. It’s overwhelming to see something like that.”

A smile plays at the corner of Jack’s lips. “It’s overwhelming to watch a baby pick up something? Technically, she picked up two things. Does she at least now get to have a choice? This can’t possibly dictate the course of her life. All of those objects didn’t even account for every career possibility.” Jack shakes his head. “She probably went for it because it was shiny and in her line of sight. Why are those keys even within reach for a baby? Those can be used as weapons.”

I make a face at him. “Do not ruin this for me, Jack. I love this tradition. I did it as a baby.”

We head out to the backyard, where there are long-life noodles, dumplings, cut fruit, and Ox-shaped cake being served on Chinese zodiac–themed plates for June’s party.

“Are you serious? That actually makes a lot of sense. What did you pick? Wait, let me guess. You picked a sketchbook,” Jack speculates.

“Close! I picked a paintbrush,” I reveal. “My mom did it as a baby, too. She picked a tube of paint. We were both destined to become artists.”

“You don’t think you became an artist because you were around art all your life? Saw your mom as a working artist?” Jack asks.

“It’s not like my mom only laid out art supplies to choose from,” I say. “I had an assortment of objects, apparently. I don’t remember the specifics because, you know, my brain couldn’t form memories.”

Jack laughs. “Sounds like a momentous day.”

I place my hands on my hips. “What do you think you would’ve picked if you’d had a zhuā zhōu ceremony?”

Jack shrugs. “I can’t imagine my parents doing anything like this.”

“But if they had?”

“It would’ve been biased from the start,” he says, convinced. “They’re astronomers. There’d have been telescopes and star charts exclusively. Fate didn’t stand a chance.”

“I see.” I nudge Jack’s arm and nod toward the cake. “What’s your sign?”

“I think I’m a Goat. You?”

“Interesting. I’m a Pig. Do you relate to your traits?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I have no clue.”

“Me neither. Want cake?” I reach for the piece that looks like the Ox’s ear. Jack grabs what appears to be the nose.

The cooler September temperatures are much more appropriate for my knitwear. Still, it’s no New York City fall. We spot a couple of yellow chairs to sit in positioned under red- and cream-colored lanterns swaying from an olive tree. I’m watching guests mingle in the yard when something reflective catches my eye in the grass.

I stand to pick it up. It’s a Natural History Museum ID for someone named Lucy. “Unless this person is still here, this can be our lost object!”

Jack doesn’t look impressed. “It’s too easy. We know the who, what, where.”

“Sometimes it really is that easy.” I don’t see Lucy anywhere among the guests. “She might’ve left. We’ll have to return it in person.”

“It’s a start,” Jack says.

I take a few seconds to visually trace the outline of Jack’s face when he’s not looking. “So, Star Guy, huh?”

Jack quickly inhales before plunging his fork into the corner of the chocolate cake. “Seems so,” he says with a small grin.

“You let Bennett and Olivia call you Jack. You’re good at teaching. Is it only at work that you’re not as comfortable with those things?” I ask.

Jack wipes his lips with a napkin covered in the moon phases. “Work is meant to be professional. And teaching kids versus adults is very different. One is for fun and pure education. My colleagues don’t need me teaching them anything. They know how to do their jobs.”

“Maybe the teaching is more of a mentorship-type involvement, like the kids you educate?” I pose.

Revelation flashes across Jack’s face. “That’s a good point. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Mentorship also does look good on a résumé.”

“It can also be something you do for fun, you know,” I tell him. “Kind of like how you don’t tell anyone you volunteer.”

Jack looks down at his plate. “That’s different. I’m used to tracking my work achievements and using them to…”

When Jack trails off, I insert words to try to keep his momentum going.

“To be paid handsomely so that you can buy your own island? To create a list that you can read off every morning to self-motivate?”

Jack laughs at my attempt to make him smile. “To be seen. Achievements were how I was seen by my parents. Still are.”

I nod knowingly. “Ohhh. Yes. I get that.”

Jack locks eyes with mine. “Do you ever feel like people want you to be something you’re not?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Definitely. My mom thinks I should stop hiding behind Red String Girl.”

He nods. “With my parents, I always had to be on top of my game. I was supposed to listen to them because what they knew was best.” Jack blows out a breath. “You know how in school you’re taught to be well rounded and to involve yourself in a variety of activities?”

I shake my head, drawing lines across the icing with my utensil. “I don’t. All I did was art, but I hear you.”

“Well, my parents didn’t want me to bother with other extracurriculars, either. They wanted me to be excellent at one thing: astronomy, like them. Become an expert in the field, like them.” Jack pushes back a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of his eyes. “They’re not big fans of everything we send into space. They’re observers, so anything we put up there, like satellites, only disrupts their view. If I can get this promotion, though, maybe they’ll take a second to see what I’m working on and think differently about it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say. “Oddly, I can relate. I’m an artist like Mom, but I’m still not visible enough, not daring enough.”

“She wants you to follow in her path, too?”

“It’s the only version of success she knows. It worked for her, so it might also work for me.”

“Right. Yeah, you get it.” Jack shifts in his seat.

“What does your Gōng Gong think?” I ask.

Jack’s eyes light up at the mention of him. “Oh, he’s the best. Besides Gōng Gong, there hasn’t been anyone else in my life who’s been interested in knowing what I think purely for the sake of wanting to hear my thoughts. No hidden agenda of sparking a debate. No manipulation to make me think the same way. Gōng Gong always saw me for who I was. With my parents, it’s like their love was—is—conditional. I have to earn it.”

I nod along as he talks. “Gōng Gong never pushed me into being an ocean engineer,” he continues. “I think that’s because it wasn’t his whole world. He was in the Marines and lived a lot of life before transitioning careers. He always supported me, took me to the aquarium, made ice cream with me. I’m lucky to have him. Sometimes I feel awful that my desire to connect with my parents outweighed his influence and opinion.”

“It sounds like the relationship you two have is strong,” I say, “but it can be different with parents. Their influence is like a gravitational pull.”

He grunts. “Yeah. It really can be,” Jack says. “My parents would go away on months-long expeditions for work, which didn’t leave them much time to spend with me. They didn’t take me along.”

“Never once?” I ask.

“They were remote sites without much for kids to do,” Jack explains. “They wanted to focus on their work. I get it now as an adult, but it was hard as a kid to be away from them for long periods of time and not really understand why. Looking at the stars sounded fun.”

This I don’t relate to as much. I went everywhere with Mom.

“I doubled down on learning a lot about space so I could impress them,” Jack adds. “I thought that if I could connect with my parents, be interesting enough to them, then they wouldn’t go away so often. But… people leave.”

“Yeah,” I say, pulling at a string on my sleeve. “People do leave.”

Jack sets his plate of cake down on the grass. “I want these kids learning about STEM to know that they have options. I don’t want them to feel pushed in one direction or another like I did as a kid. There’s a whole world out there to explore. They show up every month eager to learn.”

“Like how you were as a kid,” I say, feeling emotional about the thought of a curious young Jack enthusiastic to learn as much as he could. I imagine he had a lot of questions growing up. And that he liked to test things.

“Right. They listen, they’re open-minded, they want to know everything,” Jack says, dragging his fork across the plate to scoop up the remaining crumbs. “And I want to help them understand all of it. I want to inspire them.”

“Maybe you don’t think your team needs the inspiration in the same way that the kids do. But what if they do?” I ask.

Jack goes quiet, but there’s a trace of a smile. He takes my plate from me, gathering it up with his own.

“All I know is that there’s one person in particular who does need inspiration,” he says, locking eyes with mine.

A meow from behind Jack startles us both. A white cat with gray dots appears, rubbing up against Jack’s leg.

“Pinot, how did you get out here? You’re going to get eaten by coyotes,” Jack says, lifting the cat into his arms.

I grab our plates from Jack and follow him into the house. “Olivia, Pinot was outside. The doors must’ve been left open.”

Olivia looks confused. “Not sure who you’re holding,” she says, pointing over to the real Pinot with rust-colored fur sitting protectively next to June. “That’s Pinot.”

Jack’s eyes go round as he looks at the cat lying calmly in his arms. “Then whose cat is this?”

I look at the collar. It says Sprinkles with an accompanying phone number. Jack dials the number a few times, but no one answers.

Jack furrows his brows. “I don’t feel good about leaving her outside to fend for herself. We need to find her parents.”

Seeing Jack being overly protective of this cat is incredibly endearing. My heart squeezes in my chest.

“How perfect that a cat named Sprinkles found you. You love ice cream, and cats love milk. What is ice cream if not frozen milk?” I ask.

He frowns. “Most cats are actually lactose intolerant.”

“Look at that! You’re already an incredible temporary cat daddy!” I say.

A small grin cracks through Jack’s look of concern. We make a game plan to continue calling the number on the collar, check in with the local shelter, put up flyers, and talk to neighbors. I reassure him that we’ll get Sprinkles home. In the meantime, Jack will take his new pal back to his apartment since mine doesn’t allow animals and Talia is allergic.

“How did we go from zero lost things to two?” Jack asks, shaking his head.

I pet the top of Sprinkles’s head. “In time, I think we’ll know why.”