Confucius Jane (8 page)

When they drew closer, Sutton saw that each lion was controlled by two puppeteers. One manipulated the head, twisting, raising, and lowering it in jerky movements that made the creature seem remarkably lifelike. The other held a strip of cloth that looked almost like a bridal train—the lion's body, presumably.

A float followed close behind the lions, bearing a crest with Chinese characters and the word
community
in English. On the slowly moving platform, a man pounded two large, timpani-like drums. Behind the float, at least two dozen men, women, and children dressed in identical red sweatshirts beat on smaller drums of their own or shook sticks that made a loud rattling sound.

“The drums are also for the demons?” Sutton asked, having to shout to make her voice heard.

“Yes. And there will be electronic firecrackers later.”

Sutton's next question was driven from her mind when one of the men suddenly broke ranks and trotted over toward them. A wiry fellow who looked to be in his late forties, he greeted Jane and conversed quickly with her in Chinese before returning to his compatriots.

“Pharmacist,” Jane explained over the horns and drums. “Asking after my uncle's health. He had bronchitis last month.”

Sutton nodded, marveling at just how tightly knit this community was. As the parade continued, she found herself growing more and more fascinated by the culture on display before her. Martial artists performed a choreographed series of forms, followed by a group of flag-bearers carrying a large banner of a golden monkey on a red background. Benny had mentioned that it was the Year of the Monkey, and Sutton wondered what that meant, exactly. After the flags came a marching band—by far the most Western aspect of the entire festival so far—followed by more dancing lions. When the one nearest them zigzagged toward the crowd, the head puppeteer's face was visible for a moment.

“Look,” she said, pointing. “That's Benny.”

Jane leaned forward. “You're right, there he is. Impressive.”

Sutton could see why his hips had been bothering him earlier in the week. Even as he held the lion's head above his own, he was constantly moving—kicking his legs and spinning adroitly on his feet in synchrony with his partner.

As Benny passed out of sight, Sutton felt the way she sometimes had as a girl when, on exceptionally clear nights out at her grandparents' home on Long Island, she had floated on her back in the pool and looked up at the stars. A glimpse of the cosmos was always awe-inspiring—especially for a city girl. But what she remembered most was a sense of insignificance. Of smallness. Now, faced with the customs of a culture three thousand years old, that same sensation prickled at the edge of her consciousness. Religion had always been more a social obligation than a faith to her own parents, and they had no true family traditions outside of strategically alternating which relatives were visited during each holiday season. For an instant, as another troupe of drummers marched by, Sutton desperately wanted to believe in something bigger than herself.

As quickly as it had arrived, the moment faded. She didn't need demons or fortunes or astrology to explain the world when she had science. Exhaling slowly, she refocused her attention on the parade.

“Are you okay?” Jane asked.

Sutton smiled briefly and turned to reassure her, careful not to meet those hypnotic eyes. She would be just fine, as long as she remembered her own priorities.

*   *   *

JANE KEPT HER HANDS
firmly in her pockets, lest she give in to the overwhelming impulse she'd had all day to interlace her fingers with Sutton's. She had nearly forgotten herself at the bakery, and then again along the barricade, when she'd wanted so badly to wrap one arm around Sutton's shoulders and pull her close. The visceral compulsions were unsettling and exhausting to fight off, especially since Sutton was full of mixed signals—warm and forthcoming one moment, cool and distant the next. But there had been several points throughout the day when Jane had caught an appreciative smile or the hint of a nervous laugh that she thought might signal attraction. And the way they'd fallen so easily into conversation—that had to be a sign of something, didn't it?

Oh, sure. It was a sign of something, all right—that she was in way over her head.
Perfect
—that was the only word to describe Sutton. Perfect eyes. Perfect hair. Perfect pitch. The perfect storm of intelligence, humor, and compassion. Sutton was way out of her league, and once she started asking the right questions, she'd be gone in a heartbeat. At this point, all Jane could do was postpone the inevitable.

The problem was, she reflected as she snuck another peek at Sutton out of the corner of her eye, that even clumsy, unattractive moths gravitated toward the flame. Sutton was irresistible, and Jane was going to get herself burned. It was just that simple.

“How'd you like the firecrackers?” she asked, pausing to wave as she recognized the proprietor of a dumpling shop to whom she delivered cookies every Monday.

“They were fun. The dancing, too.” Sutton glanced at her briefly. “It made my childhood ballet lessons look so boring.”

Jane smiled, even as another alarm bell went off in her head. Ballet lessons. Upper East Side. The puzzle pieces were starting to coalesce, and the emerging picture pointed to Sutton St. James coming from a wealthy, upper-class family. That in itself didn't intimidate Jane too much—she had plenty of experience mingling with ambassadors, dignitaries, and their children. But between Sutton's social status and her multiple advanced degrees, Jane couldn't help feeling a little insecure. Maybe they were too different to find any common ground.

“So, how does Chinese culture view the monkey?” Sutton asked. “Is it a good animal?”

Jane shook off her trepidation. “It's my birth sign, so I'd like to think so. Though according to my astrologer friend Sue, whenever the year is the same as your sign, you're at risk of bad luck. More superstition.”

“You have a friend who's an astrologer?” Sutton sounded intrigued.

“Mostly she's an apothecary, but she does astrology on the side.” They came to the corner of Baxter, and Jane gestured for Sutton to precede her. “I bet she'll be at Noodle Treasure. I'll introduce you.”

In the hours since they'd left for the parade, Mei had hung streamers and paper lanterns just beneath the restaurant's awning. As they approached, Jane heard the buzz of chatter and laughter even through the closed doors.

“Ready for a feast?”

Sutton nodded. “It smells incredible, even from out here.”

Jane felt a swell of pride at Sutton's obvious eagerness, which was silly since she'd had nothing whatsoever to do with cooking the traditional Spring Festival meal. Still, the knowledge that Sutton was enjoying her adventure into the heart of Chinese culture made Jane feel as though she'd done a good job in her self-appointed role as “guide.” The real question was whether she'd performed well enough to be upgraded to “date.” She'd made Sutton laugh a few times, and she'd managed to hold her own during their conversational sparring. But a few flirtatious moments here and there did not a date make.

The inside of Noodle Treasure was barely recognizable. All the tables had been moved into one long row, which was covered entirely by a deep red cloth. Flower bouquets had been arranged down the centerline of the table—peach blossoms for longevity, peonies for prosperity, pussy willow plants for good fortune.

As they stepped inside, all heads turned toward them. Most of her family and many neighbors were already seated, and shouts of “Jane!” “Doctor Sutton!” and “Happy New Year!” suddenly filled the fragrant air. Sutton's face registered a mixture of delight and uncertainty, and Jane wished she could squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“We're so glad you've joined us,” Mei called. “Please, sit and eat.”

A seat was open between Sue and Cornelia, and another just across the table, between Min and an Italian gentleman who was another one of Noodle Treasure's “regulars.” Jane could never remember his name, but when he stood to shake Sutton's hand, Sutton smiled and said, “Happy New Year, Giancarlo.”

As Jane introduced herself to him, Sue rose, unclasping the gold chain from around her neck. “
Gong xi fa cai,
Jane. This is for you, to ward off your bad luck.”

“You're giving me your necklace?”

“A loan. This is my Tiger pendant—do you see?” She held up the small disk where it glinted in the celebratory lights. “It will fool the spirits into thinking you are a Tiger, rather than a Monkey. Bend down and let me fasten it.”

Sue's demonstrativeness made Jane glad to duck her head. “Thank you.” When she looked up she found Sutton watching them in evident curiosity. “Sue, this is my friend Sutton. She has some questions about astrology. Can she sit next to you?”

“Of course.” Sue stepped aside so Sutton could squeeze in. Jane took the chair on the opposite side of the table and then poured them both some chrysanthemum tea.

“Be good,” she murmured to Min when she was sure Sutton wasn't looking. Min only stuck out her tongue and went back to doing something on her phone.

“What questions do you have, Sutton?” Sue asked, sounding eager to share her expertise.

“Hang on a minute, now,” Jane said. “We're starving.” She caught Sutton's eye as she reached for the nearest platter. “Let me explain what all of this is, first, okay? And then you can tell me what you'd like.”

Sutton raised one eyebrow. “I told you I'd try anything once, and I meant it.”

Jane took a sip of water to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. The woman liked a challenge. That was hot. “All right then, I'll start by giving you one of everything. First: a peach bun.”

“Let me guess,” Sutton said as Jane deposited one of the round, golden-pink pastries on her plate. “These don't really taste like peaches.”

“You catch on quickly. They only look like peaches, which symbolize longevity. Inside, you'll find red bean paste, which tastes kind of like sweet potato.”

After grabbing one for herself, Jane gestured for Min to pass her the next platter. “These are
nian gao.
Sticky rice cakes. They're sweet, and we eat them because the name sounds like the phrase ‘higher year.' The idea is to raise yourself to a better place in the new year.”

“I like that idea,” Sutton said with a smile that set Jane's heart tripping in her chest. “I'll take two, please.”

For the next few minutes, Jane continued to explain the symbolism behind each item of food: kumquats for prosperity, oranges for luck, noodles for long life. Sutton took it all in stride, and by the time the bowls and platters stopped coming, her plate was piled high with food.

“Now,” she said, turning to Sue, “what were you saying, about the Year of the Monkey?”

Over the course of the next hour, Sue not only divulged everything she knew about the Monkey sign, but also began delving into Sutton's personal horoscope. Sutton had been born in a Dragon year, and as Jane listened to Sue describe the powerful ambition and drive of all Dragons, she found herself wondering whether there might be more truth to this astrology business than she had previously thought. And Sutton wasn't the only one captivated by Sue's wealth of knowledge—Giancarlo was completely spellbound as well. Even Min had stopped playing with her phone.

“Romantically, Dragons are most compatible with Monkeys,” Sue was saying. “Like Jane.”

Jane had been in the middle of taking a sip of tea, which promptly went down the wrong pipe and precipitated a coughing fit.

“Interesting,” Sutton said. Through her watering eyes, Jane noticed that Sutton's face was flushed. Was that a good sign? Or was she simply embarrassed?

“And Roosters make a good match as well,” Sue continued, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she was causing. “Like Minetta.”

“Who, me?” Min's voice carried a distinct note of shock.

The musical sound of Sutton's laughter finally allowed Jane to take a deep, cough-free breath. After wiping her eyes, she looked up to see Sutton sitting back in her chair, an indulgent smile curving her lips.

“How old are you, Min?”

“Eleven.”

Sutton made a show of exhaling in a deep and soulful sigh. “I'm afraid you're just too young for me.”

Min reciprocated by clutching at her own chest. “I'm devastated. How will I go on?”

“Sue,” Giancarlo, who until now had been listening raptly, interjected. “May I call you Sue?” At her nod, he leaned forward. “I know nothing about this topic, but I find it all simply fascinating. May I ask what animal sign I was born under?”

Suddenly, Min sat up straight and pointed at Sue, cutting him off midsentence. “You need a website.”

“Min!” Cornelia said sharply. “Where are your manners? No interrupting, and no pointing.”

“He interrupted me first,” Min said. “And besides, it's true.”

Sue looked confused. “I have a website. Jane made it for me.”

Min waved one hand dismissively. “Not for the herbs and stuff—for your fortunes. That's what people really care about.”

“Minetta, seriously, be polite.” Jane flashed an apologetic look at both Sue and Giancarlo. Apparently, her little cousin had decided to ring in the new year by acting like a brat. How fortuitous for them all.

“It's the truth,” she insisted. “Think about how many people would visit your site if they could get good horoscopes instead of having to settle for all the moronic vague ones out there that could apply to anybody.”

Sue was clearly intrigued. “And you know how to do this?”

“Sure. It's not too hard.” Min flicked her chopsticks together absently in a show of skill Jane envied. “I bet I could even get it to count as my project for computer class. Oh—fortune cookies!”