Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“I love that,” I say, eager to know more. “What did it mean to her?”
A fond look crosses Jillian’s eyes. “They loved to take me to fall festivals every year. To pumpkin patches and hay rides, and to Christmas markets and July 4th parades.”
“My family is obsessed with parades and festivals,” I say, totally charmed by this detail of her.
“Yeah?”
“Swear. I call my mom and dad the king and queen of festivals. That’s their tradition too—going to all sorts of events. There was this Irish Music Fest they took us to every year. Family-friendly bands, step dancing and stuff. If I wasn’t a football player, pretty sure Mom wanted me to be a step dancer.”
She cracks up. “Can you step dance?”
“Not one bit.”
“You’ll have to try someday.”
“That shit is hard,” I say.
“And football’s not?”
“Fair point.”
“What else did they do to keep that alive? Is St. Patrick’s Day a big thing.”
“The biggest. We had to go to that parade every year,” I say.
“Had to?”
“As a kid with a lot of energy standing around and watching a parade was not my favorite thing. And Mom loves Irish music. But I don’t mind it so much. As for the music fest, I think I liked it mostly for the food—Irish soda bread called my name—but the music wasn’t bad.”
“I dreamed of dumplings as a kid. They’re big for the Lunar New Year festivities. My parents and Jess’s parents took us to a gathering each year.”
“Was that to honor your backgrounds as adoptees?”
“I think so, but also to create a new tradition for our families.”
“Like a blend of backgrounds?”
“Exactly. They found little ways to bring it into their lives.” A smile crosses her face, and her eyes twinkle. “And I think they liked doing it with other parents in the same situation as them. I mean, it’s not like they could or were even trying to insert themselves into the ‘quote unquote’ Chinese community. But they wanted us to have the chance to be a part of it even we wanted to. To be comfortable with other Asian Americans and not feel like an outsider.”
“Did you? Want to?”
“To some degree, but honestly not to a huge degree. Of course I’m aware I don’t look like my parents. Of course I know too I don’t have the same upbringing as a Chinese kid born to Chinese parents in America. But I liked my parents, and I was happy, so that was enough. It was nice that they wanted to expose me to the culture, though. They gave me dollar bills in little red envelopes during Lunar New Year. Little things, but I liked that a lot.”
I chuckle. “That is a most excellent cultural celebration. Was it for luck?” I gesture in the direction of my shorts, where I keep my four-leaf clover charm. “Like my four-leaf clover.”
“Not really. I think they did it more to honor where I was born. They were grateful to my birth mother, even though they didn’t know her, for giving them the chance to have a family. What about you and your ideas about luck? Where does that come from?”
“It’s all me. It’s all from sports and I’m the most superstitious guy around. I’m going to have to eat a pomelo a day during the season now that you’ve hooked me on them,” I tell her, and she smiles in a way that makes my heart thump harder.
“Were your parents superstitious?”
“Not really. But my dad has his own theory about luck. He’s very much of the mindset that luck means sometimes you lose and sometimes you win. Growing up, he tried to teach me to keep an even head about winning or losing, to remind me that success on the field is about talent and effort, but also luck. The way the ball falls, how a foot lands, how the wind blows.”
“Do you believe that?”
I lean back and rub a hand over my jaw. “I want to. But I also think if I’m not out there busting my ass every second, then I’m not serving my team or my fans or myself. That’s probably why I follow different superstitions about the game. I give a hundred and ten percent on the field—that I can control. But I can’t control the wind, and I can’t control the refs, so I have my little rituals.”
“You do serve the team every day. You give it your all. I love watching you play. I can tell football feeds your soul.”
She’s right on the last count. The game absolutely commands my heart and my head. But I like the other thing she said, too. I raise an eyebrow. “You like watching me play?”
She nods.
I take a deep, satisfied breath. “That makes me want to make a big circus catch for you. To be on the field and raise my hands in a J so you’ll know when I dive for a ball, I’m doing it for you.” I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss them. “Still can’t believe you didn’t know I wanted you.”