“Yet you still got Auntie hooked on the zodiac,” I say.
Pó Po laughs. “I did, but your mother was surprisingly stubborn for a Dog. And your Uncle Rupert was too absorbed with his dinosaurs to care about any other animal. It’s no wonder he chose paleontology over matchmaking.” She shrugs. “Lunar Love was my life. This never came up when you were transitioning to take the lead, but I hope you know this legacy doesn’t have to be yours.”
I stop mid-tie to look up at Pó Po. “I—I love Lunar Love and matchmaking. Why would you think that I don’t?”
“I just want you to know that you’re never stuck. You’re independent, and working in the family business might sometimes feel counterintuitive. Lydia felt that way at times. There was a point she almost walked away.”
“I didn’t know that,” I say, searching my memory for conversations Auntie and I may have had about her wanting to leave Lunar Love behind.
“Oh, well, that’s a story for a different day.” She pulls a bag’s strings as tight as she can.
“I’m not giving up on Lunar Love,” I say. If Pó Po was able to create a successful business out of nothing, surely I can build off the solid foundation she constructed.
“I’m happy to hear that. You were presented with a challenge to overcome. Is everything going okay? I may have some savings that I can put toward whatever you need at Lunar Love.”
“No, no! Don’t eat into your retirement fund. I’m handling it,” I reassure her.
Pó Po reaches over to tap my hand. “Remember, where there’s a negative, there’s always a positive. Now, tell me. Have you given any more thought to the gentleman Auntie introduced you to over email?”
“The one with a ten-year strategy? I appreciate a well-thought plan but that’s a bit much.” This man, like all the others Auntie tries to pair me with, is compatible to my Horse sign. I also know from her email that he’s a doctor and an off-hours tennis buff.
“She vetted him herself. Maybe he can be your plus one to Nina’s wedding. His Tiger is a match to your Horse. A Fire Tiger, too. His optimism might rub off on you. And he plans on being a heart doctor. You’d both have something in common,” Pó Po offers.
“How can I say no to Dr. Love-Fifteen? Pretty easily, actually. I can see it now. All those long hours he’s away will give us distance that will make us appreciate each other, but when he’s back, he’ll drag me to the courts to be his doubles partner so he can exhaust his nervous energy.”
“This man is compatible to you, and you’re still not interested.” Pó Po sighs. “Careful, Liv. Your heart’s been broken, but it’s stronger than you think. Isn’t it time you make room for someone new?”
“You know my resistance isn’t because I don’t believe in love. I’d rather focus on finding love for others, not myself, that’s all,” I tell her.
When Pó Po lost Gōng Gong, she never remarried, and Auntie’s still single. They poured themselves into matchmaking and leaned into their independence. Maybe that’s the fate of those who lead Lunar Love. I had my great love. Or at least what I thought was love. Maybe that was it for me, and now, like the women before me, it’s time to focus on work.
“Lunar Love comes first,” I add. I decide to finally say what I need to get off my chest. “Speaking of Lunar Love, I heard something interesting the other day.”
“Hmm?” Pó Po hums as she diligently packs, ties, packs, ties.
“I met someone who had already somehow known who I was. Because of you. And it turns out you had matched his parents.”
Pó Po’s small hands come to an abrupt stop.
“But he says that his parents were incompatible. Which I told him couldn’t be true,” I continue. “But is it true?”
“The O’Briens,” Pó Po finally says softly. “You were out on a Singles Scouting when Bennett came to find me about a year ago.”
“A year ago?” I interrupt. “You’ve been hiding what could potentially destroy Lunar Love from me for a year?”
Pó Po’s thin, lined eyebrows furrow. “Destroy Lunar Love? With his little app?” She scoffs. “Matchmaking is more than just swiping. There are so many people using these apps, how do you sort through everyone? You can’t trust what or who people claim to be online. Hands-on matchmaking services are dependable. Safe.”
“I know this,” I say, “but that didn’t stop the guy you shared confidential information with.”
Pó Po smiles. “Lunar Love has been through it all. Don’t worry.”
The advice is vague at best. “Please, continue,” I say, choosing not to fight it. Her calmness about this is mystifying.
Pó Po fidgets with a loose string. “Bennett learned through his mother’s journals that later, after she was married, her birth year wasn’t what she had believed all along. Her birthday and year on the birth certificate had been recorded incorrectly, since she had been born just one day after the Lunar New Year.”
“So she was a Borderliner,” I say, referring to a term we use to call people whose birthdays fall so close to the days of a different animal sign that some of the traits blend.
Pó Po nods. “The years had been mixed up. His mother spent her entire life believing she was born in the year of an animal she actually wasn’t. This affected the matching.”
So she did make an incompatible match. Like I did. But the reasoning behind hers is understandable. Borderliners can be very tricky.
“He said his parents were happy,” I say, reassuring her.
“It was a sloppy mistake,” she says as though she’s scolding herself.
“It was an accident. It’s not like you purposely made an incompatible match. That’d be a different story,” I justify.
“What you did was an accident, too, Liv,” Pó Po says in a soothing tone. “You did what you thought was best for your friend at the time. We can’t always make perfect, blissful matches.”
I wrinkle my eyebrows. “You warned me but I didn’t listen. At least yours resulted in a successful marriage.”
Brightness returns to her face. “Bennett’s parents were good together, incompatible or otherwise.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him? He knew about me,” I ask. “You never hide things from me.”
“I was ashamed about his parents’ match,” she says. “And you never cared much about the men I bring up to you. How is Bennett different than Mr. Love-Fifteen?”
“He just is,” I say after a moment.