grocery stores, while the bride-to-be’s are wealthy organic farmers. Ines’s family are bakers: they tend to only marry other bakers.”
“I’m sure there’s a way. They belong together.”
“Don’t interfere, Vanessa.” My aunt’s warning tone mirrored Ma’s. “You can’t toy with people’s lives. We are fortune-tellers—our role is to observe.”
I held my tongue and noted that she didn’t approve of my matchmaking plans. No need to keep her updated then. After all, she was an expert on secrets: it would be hypocritical for her to ask me to divulge mine.
I switched the topic. “What was Great-Aunt Charlotte like?”
“You two would have gotten along well,” my aunt laughed. “You both have much in common. She, too, rebelled against our lack of a red thread. Spent her life trying to deny it. She never married, and the few, short relationships she did have ended poorly.”
Great-Auntie “Char” was a notorious eccentric who died before I was born. She drove a 1970 lime-green Plymouth Barracuda with hot-pink leather seats and racked up a mile-long paper trail of speeding tickets. She was a powerful clairvoyant, and her visions helped the fortunes of the Yu family.
“She didn’t die, like, in a strange way, did she?”
“She died in her sleep at eighty-nine with a bottle of Macallan on her nightstand. She was known to take a shot before bed. Fortune-tellers in our family live long lives.”
“How many fortune-tellers are out there?”
Aunt Evelyn cut her pork chop into bite-size strips. “It’s two per family, and three on rare occasions.”
“But you were the only one left after Aunt Charlotte and Aunt Beverly died,” I protested.
“Yes.” Aunt Evelyn smiled. “And then you were born.”
We finished up lunch and headed to Ines’s bakery side by side. Ahead of us, Luc had parked his white Peugeot van on a side street and was gathering his delivery for Ines.
“Go in without me,” I said. “There’s something I saw back there that I have to take a picture of for Auntie Gloria.”
“Gloria doesn’t need more knickknacks.” My aunt made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Don’t take too long.”
I headed down the street and pretended to admire a stained glass lamp in a store window. When she entered the bakery, I hustled to Luc’s van. The rear double doors swung open. He was holding a worn wooden crate in his arms, full of bags of flour and blocks of butter.
“Hi. I hope you speak English.” I smiled and waved.
“I do. I recognize you from the bakery. Can I help you?”
“Actually, I wanted to help you.”
And with those words, I set my matchmaking machinations into play.
Twenty-Nine
My parents are marrying me off to Liselle Goulet. I’ve been going to dinners at their house since I was a child. The business arrangement is set.” He lifted the crate onto his shoulder. “I can’t disappoint my parents.”
“Do you love this Liselle?”
He hesitated, then blurted out, “It doesn’t matter if I do.”
“That doesn’t sound like true love to me. After all those mandatory dinners, I’m sure you see her more as a sister than a wife.” My comment prompted a long sigh. Had I been in his situation, I’d be rebelling against the whole notion of a business merger through an arranged marriage. “Allow me to put it this way: If Ines was getting married tomorrow—and it’s not to you—how would you feel?”
A deep flush of red traveled from his cheeks, past his short beard, and down his throat to the neckline of his shirt. “Miserable. I love her, but I can’t go against the desires of my family.”
“You’ve decided to be miserable then. A woman like Ines isn’t going to wait forever. If you want her, you need to choose her.”
He looked away and didn’t answer.
I turned and headed into to the bakery, Luc following three steps behind.
As we entered, Aunt Evelyn frowned. I was sure she suspected what I had done. I blushed and joined her near the counter while Luc made his delivery. He spoke little before making a hasty exit. I hoped what I’d said had made him think about what he wanted.
My aunt muttered under her breath, “Interfering with lives is a dangerous game.”
“I’m helping them. Unless you’ve seen something that says I should stop.” I glanced at her. She remained silent. “No? Good, then I’m going to continue what I think is right.”
Her dark eyes creased at the corners. If she were one of her teakettles, she’d be boiling now. “You have to think about what can go wrong.”