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“Excited, huh?”
“Very.I've lived in London for years, but each time I go out, it surprises me with something new.There's something different around every corner.Especially at festival time.I’m so glad you came.”
Two huge gates, decorated with gold, red, and Chinese lanterns flanked the main street.A huge crowd had already gathered.Nearby, a popular Chinese bakery sold round, flaky red bean pastries as well as tiny, perfectly intricate mooncakes.
Outside a Chinese general store, a young woman sold glow sticks and sparklers to a long line of chattering children, some clapping their hands and wiggling their bottoms with excitement.
The crowd talked among themselves, but fell quiet when, from around the corner of one of the gates, a huge dragon head appeared, bright red and brilliant white, with saucer-round golden eyes.
Moving sensuously like a snake, the dragon and its long red body, made up of four people and decorated with hundreds of gold and white tassels, traveled down the street.It paused, waiting, undulating, like a lion sizing up its prey.
Then the music began.From behind the dragon a procession of men in traditional Chinese dress appeared, drums around their necks, beating out a rhythm that the dragon swayed, bucked and danced to, its motions enthralling.
Around them, children held sparklers and lanterns, but the only other light came from restaurant and shop windows.
In the evening darkness, the white of the dragon's fur stood out like virgin snow.The drums beat out an increasingly mesmerizing tattoo of sound.
I glanced up at Rick.He looked spellbound as the dragon reached the end of the gate-to-gate pavement stretch, and came back towards us, the drums still beating.
“You watch this every year?”He wanted to know.
“If I can.”I grinned up at him.“Look at all the smiling faces, filled with hope and joy.Listen to the music.Later, when the lantern procession goes through the streets, it just seems so magical and exotic, right here, in ordinary London.”
“London isnotordinary.”
“I have to agree,” I smiled.“I love it.”I looked up at his profile, lit by the glow from sparklers and overhead fairy lights, and cuddled into him.
“Wonder if we have anythin’ like this near Redwing Falls.”
“There’s a Lunar New Year dragon dance in Louisville.The Han family told me.Their daughter, Lara, goes sometimes.”
The dance ended, and a woman I recognised as owning a couple of the bigger restaurants in Chinatown ascended the little stage to talk about the evening’s proceedings.There would be crafts for the kids, a visitingxiaolongbaostall, and other activities.
We queued up for the soup dumplings.The carton they gave us was almost too hot to hold, so in other words, perfect.I taught Rick the perfect way to eat them by cupping one in a big spoon, biting a tiny hole in the skin to let the soup inside cool down and then eating them whole.
I tugged Rick down a street with a tiny cafe that sold only chicken skin in various forms.
“The triple fried is the best.”
He made a face.“Ain’t chicken skin already basically fried by the oven when you roast it?”
“Psh.This from the man who encouraged me to eat a pile of meat, carbs and gravy within days of making his acquaintance.When in Rome, Richard Callahan.”
He shuddered.“I’ll do anything you want, as long as you never, ever call me Richardeveragain.It was my grandpa’s name, apparently.”
We got a big bag of the triple fried chicken skin and, despite his earlier misgivings, Rick ate most of it.We washed it down with some mango Boba tea before stopping at a small bakery, where I bought a big, fat wedge of bright green pandan cake that we ate, back home, in bed.
Night slanted in through the curtains, the walls illuminated by the soft glow of my bedside lamp.
I settled in next to Rick, beyond pleased to have him here with me.I had missed him so much.I already knew I’d never get enough of him.These months apart had increased my love for him, not dampened or lessened it.
I’d nearly blurted out the words three times justtoday.I’d daydreamed about making one of those big welcome-style signs with the words on.
I was officially a lost cause.
I needed to tell him.
We fed each other bites of the cake, and then I put the plate aside and tugged him down onto the mattress.He smelled like home, like happiness, and if there had been any doubt before, there wasn’t now.
