“Rika’s in love with Henry Chen!!!” Rory bellows. “And she has to go to him!”
Everyone falls silent, all eyes turning in my direction.
“Oh,” Auntie Och says. “Why you not just say so? I take you. I love young love!”
“I have to go, too!” Rory proclaims, grabbing my hand. “It’s because of me that she even knows where he is!”
“And I am definitely not missing any opportunity to see Rika get in touch with her mushy side,” Belle says, sidling up to me.
“Well, if everyone’s going . . .” Auntie Suzy grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Then I suppose I should as well.”
I know there’s no arguing with them, so I throw up my hands in surrender. “Let’s go, Rakuyamas.”
Auntie Och orders Uncle Hikaru to keep an eye on the restaurant, and Joanna promises to keep the Get Grace to the Gala campaign going strong. And then all the Rakuyamas pile into Auntie Och’s Mustang—Auntie Och driving, Auntie Suzy in the passenger seat, and me and my sisters crammed in the back. Belle insists on bringing Nak, and I notice that Rory is now wearing my nure-onna shirt—which still looks better on her. My big princess dress squishes all around us, enveloping us in a cloud of sparkles.
“Look at you,” Belle says, stroking my dress admiringly. “You’re finally Team Princess.”
“I’d say Team My Own Kind of Princess,” I retort.
“We’re all our own kind of princess, Rika-chan,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “It just took you forever to figure out yours.”
I open my mouth to argue—and then I just smile at her. Because, hey, she’s right. She clasps my hand, and then we face forward. Nak faces forward with us, determined.
My gaze lands on Auntie Suzy reaching over the gearshift to take Auntie Och’s hand. Auntie Och turns and smiles at her—and suddenly I can see them so clearly. The them of twenty years ago, when they fell in love. Soft and sweet and knowing that they can fight through anything, because they’ll fight through it together. It’s as if a glow surrounds them, creating something magical and precious.
“Hey, Suzy,” Auntie Och says very quietly—like they’re the only two people in the car. “We do all right, ne? Create successful business, raise three beautiful daughters, maybe just start a revolution in our staid old community. I know it’s been hard, but we’re living our own happily ever after.”
Auntie Suzy squeezes her hand, her smile turning brilliant. “We are,” she says fervently. “And our story isn’t over yet.”
TWENTY-ONE
Auntie Och drives like a bat out of hell, honking and yelling at people and taking sketchy side-street shortcuts to route us around traffic. Belle keeps throwing out the “mom arm” to keep Rory and me from jouncing forward every time Auntie Och makes another screechy hairpin turn. Nak somehow manages to pass out, snoring in Belle’s lap. We arrive at the Santa Monica Pier in almost no time, which is quite a feat.
Auntie Och forgoes the more civilized official parking lot, angling her Mustang right up to the edge of the sand. I’m pretty sure parking here is illegal, but my heart is beating way too fast to even think about that.
“You ready, Rika-chan?” Auntie Och says, whipping around to face me. “You want us to come with you?”
“God, Ma Och, no,” Belle says, shaking her head vehemently. “The whole family does not need to be part of this big romantic gesture.”
“I’d say the whole family already is part of this big romantic gesture,” Auntie Suzy counters.
“There he is!” Rory yells, gesturing wildly at a lone figure whose back is to us, looking out at the water.
“How can you tell that’s him?” Belle protests, clutching Nak to her chest. “It could be any random dude checking out the ocean!”
“It’s him,” I murmur, my gaze locking on the figure. I can’t even explain how I know. It has something to do with the way he’s standing—that inherent dancer’s grace.
“Wait, is he leaving?” Auntie Suzy says, frowning as the figure starts to lope away from the ocean.
“Oh no!” Rory exclaims. And before I can stop her, she’s rolling down the window and sticking her little head out. “Henry!!!” she bellows. “Don’t go!”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, sinking lower in my seat. This is really not how I imagined my fairy-tale ending.
Then again, if this week has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes your fairy-tale ending is not at all what you thought it would be.
The figure stops and looks around, trying to discern where the voice is coming from.
“Go, Rika-chan,” Auntie Suzy murmurs. She smiles at me, her eyes lit with that hope I haven’t seen in . . . well, maybe ever.
Rory opens the car door and jumps out, making a sweeping gesture toward the beach. I eject myself from the car, gathering my big skirts around me.
And I run. I run toward him, this lone figure on the beach who’s starting to walk away from me.
“Henry!” I call out. “Please! Wait!”
He stops and turns—and his eyes nearly bug out of his head. If I wasn’t feeling so desperate, burning up with this desire to get to him, I might laugh. I picture how I must look to him, a girl in a giant sparkly princess dress who’s a complete mess from the neck up. Well, and the ankles down, considering my sneakers. And actually, my princess dress is kind of ripped and dirty, so I’m a mess all over.
I look wild. I look terrified . . . angry . . .
Passionate.
I look like the monster princess that I am. I have never felt more like myself, and I have never loved it so much.
“Run, Rika-chan!” I hear Belle cry out in the distance.
When I finally reach him, I’m out of breath. Running through the sand in a cumbersome ball gown is much harder than it looks.
“Henry,” I gasp out.
“Rika?” he says, looking utterly confused.
We take each other in as I catch my breath. His dark eyes look so sad. His posture is
