12

ARCADIA

MONTECITO, CALIFORNIA

The late-afternoon sun hovered over the crest of the Santa Ynez Mountains, suffusing everything in a golden haze. The bamboo trellis had been fully restored to its former glory, creating a luxuriant canopy of hanging wisteria and jasmine over the central aisle, its delicately sweet scent wafting across the guests as they took their seats on the portico. With a neoclassical music pavilion carved from Tuscan stone as a backdrop and towering two-hundred-year-old oaks framing the gardens, the scene looked like something straight out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.

At the appointed moment, Nick emerged from the pavilion with his best man, Colin, and took his place beside an arch majestically radiating with white dendrobium orchids. He surveyed the hundred or so guests, noticing that his father—just arrived from Sydney and wearing an extremely rumpled gray suit—was seated next to Astrid, while his mother was a row behind gossiping with Araminta, who had minutes ago caused a stir when she entered the portico in a show-stopping emerald green Giambattista Valli gown with a deconstructed-ruffle neckline that plunged all the way down to her navel.

“Don’t fidget!” Astrid mouthed from the front row as Nick fussed nervously with his cuff links. She couldn’t help but recall the skinny boy in soccer shorts who used to run around with her in the gardens of Tyersall Park, scaling trees and jumping into ponds. They were forever inventing games and getting lost in fantasy worlds, Nicky always the Peter Pan to her Wendy, but now here he was, all grown up and looking utterly dashing in his celestial blue Henry Poole tuxedo, ready to create his own new world with Rachel. There would be great trouble to come once their grandmother found out about the wedding, but at least for tonight, Nicky was getting to marry the girl of his dreams.

The wall of French doors at the front of the pavilion opened, and from inside a musician on a grand piano began to play a vaguely familiar melody as Rachel’s bridesmaids—Peik Lin, Samantha, and Sylvia, in pearl gray bias-cut silk dresses—began the procession up the aisle. Auntie Belinda, in a gold lamé St. John gown with matching bolero top, suddenly recognized that the pianist was playing Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” and began to sob uncontrollably into her Chanel handkerchief. Uncle Ray, mystified by his wife’s behavior, pretended not to notice and stared straight ahead, while Auntie Jin turned around and glared at her. “Sorry…sorry…Stevie just gets me every time,” Belinda whispered, trying to collect herself.

After the pianist had finished, another surprise awaited the crowd as the lights inside the pavilion dimmed and a scrim hanging above the building came down, revealing a full ensemble of musicians from the San Francisco Symphony on the roof. The conductor raised his baton, and as the delicate opening strains of Aaron Copland’s “Appalachian Spring” began to fill the air, Rachel appeared at the steps of the portico on the arm of her uncle Walt.

The wedding guests murmured in approval at the bride, who looked stunning in a figure-hugging gown of silk crepe de chine with delicate knife pleats that fanned out over the fitted bodice and a column skirt that draped across the front in romantic cascading folds. With her long, luxuriant hair worn down in loose curls and pinned on the sides with a pair of feather-shaped art deco diamond clips, she was the epitome of a relaxed, modern bride with just a touch of 1930s Hollywood glamour.

Rachel clutched her bouquet of long-stemmed white tulips and calla lilies, smiling at all the people she knew. Then she caught sight of her mother seated in the front row next to Bao Gaoliang. She had of course insisted that Uncle Walt, who had always been the closest thing to a paternal figure, walk her down the aisle, but seeing her mother and father together like this stirred up a whole new set of emotions.

Her parents were here. Her parents. She realized that this was the first time in her life that she could actually use that term properly, and her eyes began to well up. There goes that hour spent in the makeup chair. Just yesterday morning, she had almost given up hope of ever meeting her real father, but by the end of the day, she discovered that not only was her father alive and very much real but she also had a half brother. It was more than she could have ever hoped for, and in a strange roundabout way, she had Nick to thank for all of this.

Bao Gaoliang couldn’t help but feel a peculiar sense of pride as he watched his daughter glide gracefully down the aisle. Here was a woman he had not met until yesterday, but already he could feel an undeniable connection with her, something he couldn’t seem to forge with his own son. Carlton and Shaoyen had a special bond that he was never able to penetrate, and he suddenly began to dread the conversation that he knew would take place when he returned to China. He had yet to discuss any of Eleanor Young’s revelations with Shaoyen, who thought he was on a diplomatic mission in Australia. How in the world was he ever going to explain all this to his wife and son?

“I can’t believe how beautiful you look,” Nick whispered when Rachel reached his side.

Rachel, too moved to say anything, simply nodded. She looked into the kind, beautiful, sexy eyes of the man she was about to marry and wondered whether this was all a dream.

After the ceremony, as the wedding guests adjourned to a reception inside the music pavilion, Eleanor sidled up to Astrid and began her commentary. “The only thing missing from that service was a good Methodist pastor. Where is Tony Chi when you need him? I didn’t really care for that we-are-all-nature Unitarian minister. Did you see he was wearing an earring? What sort of kopi-license minister is he?”

Astrid, who hadn’t spoken to Eleanor since her Apocalypse Now–style arrival the day before, gave her a sharp look. “Next time you plan on plying my child with a gallon of ice cream, you have to take him for the rest of the day. You have no idea how long it took us to pry him off the ceiling.”

“Sorry, lah. But you knew I had to find out about the wedding. See? It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“I suppose so. But you could have spared everyone so much heartache.”

Refusing to be any more contrite, Eleanor tried changing the subject. “Hey, did you help Rachel choose her dress?”

“No, but doesn’t she look lovely?”

“I find it a bit plain.”

“I think it’s exquisitely simple. It looks like something Carole Lombard would have worn to a dinner party on the French Riviera.”

“I find your dress much more striking,” Eleanor said, admiring Astrid’s cobalt blue halter-neck Gaultier outfit.

“Aiyah, you’ve seen me in this a dozen times.”

“I thought I recognized it! Didn’t you wear it to Araminta’s wedding?”

“I wear it to every wedding.”

“Why on earth do you do that?”

“Don’t you remember Cecilia Cheng’s wedding years ago, when people couldn’t stop talking about my dress in front of her? I felt so bad, I decided from that day on to always wear the same dress to every wedding.”

“You’re a funny one. No wonder you get along with my son, with all his funny ideas.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Auntie Elle.”

The sunken garden behind the music pavilion had been transformed into an al fresco ballroom. Hundreds of candles in antique crystal orbs sparkled in the eucalyptus trees surrounding the garden, while old-fashioned klieg lights cast a silver-screen glow onto the dance floor.

Astrid leaned on the stone balustrade overlooking the garden, wishing her husband could have been here to dance with her under the moonlight. The phone inside her minaudière gave a quick buzz, and she smiled, thinking Michael must have just read her mind and pinged her. She got out her phone eagerly and found a text message:

The guests began gathering on the terrace to watch the newlyweds have their first dance, but before the music started up, Colin suddenly began clinking loudly on his champagne glass to get everybody’s attention.

“Hello everyone, I’m Nicky’s best man, Colin. Don’t worry, I’m not going to bore anyone with a long-winded toast. I just felt that on this most special of occasions, the happy couple needed a little surprise.”

Nick shot Colin a look that said, What the hell are you doing?

Grinning from ear to ear, Colin continued, “A few months ago, my wife and I ran into a friend of Rachel’s at the Churchill Club.” He looked over at Peik Lin, who raised her champagne glass conspiratorially. “It turns out that all through college, Rachel would play a certain song over and over until it drove Peik Lin up the wall. And guess what? I just happen to know it was one of Nick’s favorite songs too. So Nick and Rachel thought they would be dancing to some romantic waltz by the San Francisco Symphony right now, but they’re not. Ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome Mr. and Mrs. Young to the dance floor for the very first time, accompanied by one of the world’s greatest singers.”

With those words, a band of musicians entered the small stage at the edge of the garden, followed by a petite woman with a shock of platinum blond hair. The crowd began to scream in excitement, while many of the older folks looked utterly baffled by all the excitement.

Nick and Rachel stared first at Colin and then at Peik Lin, their mouths agape.

“I can’t believe it! Did you know anything about this?” Rachel exclaimed.

“No! Sneaky bastards!” Nick said as he led Rachel onto the dance floor. The first chords of a familiar hit song began to fill the air, and the crowd roared in approval.

Philip and Eleanor Young stood on the steps leading down to the garden, watching as their son twirled his bride around with debonair ease. Philip glanced over at his wife. “Your son is happy at last. It wouldn’t hurt for you to smile a little too.”

“I’m smiling, lah, I’m smiling. I’ve been smiling till my face hurts at all those annoyingly friendly relatives of Rachel’s. Why do all these ABCs talk to you as if they think you are their best friend? It’s so presumptuous. I was all prepared for them to hate me.”

“Why would they hate you? You ended up doing a very good deed for Rachel.”

Eleanor began to say something, but then changed her mind.

“Just say it, darling, you know you want to. You’ve been wanting to tell me something all night,” Philip egged her on.

“I’m not so sure Rachel will think I did such a good deed once she really gets to know her new family.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Mr. Wong e-mailed me a new report late last night. I need to show it to you. Frankly, I think I might have made a mistake getting mixed up with the Baos in the first place.” Eleanor sighed.

“Well, it’s a little too late, darling. We’re related to them now.”

Eleanor gave her husband a look of abject horror. It was the first time this had occurred to her.

Nick and Rachel swayed together to the rhythm of the song, feeling almost delirious with happiness. “Can you believe we really pulled this off?” Nick asked.

“Not really. I’m waiting for the next helicopter to land.”

“No more helicopters, and no more surprises ever, I promise,” Nick said as he twirled her around. “From now on we’re just going to be a boring married couple.”

“Oh, please! When I decided to walk down the aisle with you, Nicholas Young, I knew I’d be signing up for a lifetime of surprises. I wouldn’t want it any other way. But you have to at least give me a clue where we’re going on our honeymoon this summer.”

“Well, I had all these grand plans that involved the midnight sun and a few fjords, but then your father just asked if we would visit him in Shanghai as soon as summer break starts. He’s eager for you to meet your brother, and he swears he’ll hook us up at the most romantic spots in all of China. So what do you think of that?”

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” Rachel said, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Nick pulled her into an embrace. “I love you, Mrs. Young.”

“And I love you. But who says I’m going to take your name?”

Nick frowned like a hurt child, and then broke out into a grin. “You don’t have to take my name, hon. You can be Rachel Rodham Chu for all I care.”

“You know what I realized today? Rachel Chu was the name my mother gave me, but it turned out not to be my name. And even though my father’s last name is Bao, that really wasn’t his name either. The only name that’s truly all mine is Rachel Young, and that’s a choice I’m making.”

Nick gave Rachel a long tender kiss as the wedding guests broke out into applause. Then he waved for everybody to join them on the dance floor, and as Cyndi Lauper continued her song, the newlyweds began to sing along:

If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me,

time after time.