Chasing Fireflies (Power of the Matchmaker) Read online

  chasing

  fireflies

  A Power of the Matchmaker Story

  taylor dean

  Chasing Fireflies

  Copyright © 2016 by Taylor Dean

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  www.taylordeanbooks.com

  Cover art by: ©iStockphoto.com/Victor_Tongdee]

  ©iStockphoto.com/Kanomdesign]

  Cover design by: Jules Isaacs

  Author photo: Jules Isaacs

  Edited by: Jules Isaacs

  Ebook formatting by: Maureen Cutajar

  PRINT ISBN: 978-1515181163

  Before reading this book, please read the prequel novella to learn the Matchmaker’s story:

  The Power of the Matchmaker

  Other books in the Matchmaker series:

  (Each book is a standalone novel with one thing in common: an appearance from the Matchmaker.)

  Broken Things to Mend

  By Karey White (January 2016)

  Not Always Happenstance

  By Rachael Anderson (February 2016)

  If We Were a Movie

  By Kelly Oram (March 2016)

  Love is Come

  By Heather B. Moore (April 2016)

  Four Chambers

  By Julie Wright (May 2016)

  O’er the River Liffey

  By Heidi Ashworth (June 2016)

  Chasing Fireflies

  By Taylor Dean (July 2016)

  Between Heaven and Earth

  By Michele Paige Holmes (August 2016)

  King of the Friend Zone

  By Sheralyn Pratt (September 2016)

  To Move the World

  By Regina Sirois (October 2016)

  How I Met Your Brother

  By Janette Rallison (November 2016)

  The Reformer

  By Jaima Fixsen (December 2016)

  This book is dedicated to

  anyone who has ever felt invisibility is their superpower.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my China girl—my daughter, Jessica—for allowing me to share her experiences while in the magical world of China.

  In 2007, she had the opportunity to spend four months teaching English in Zhongshan, China and she loved every minute of her time there.

  While writing this book, I pored through the emails she sent me while in China. Luckily, I had saved them in a file on my computer. I found the type of information that you can’t find from Mr. Google. I found precious little tidbits of information and many personal impressions of China from someone who had actually been there and experienced it firsthand.

  On several occasions, I called her and picked her brain for more. Patiently, she shared her knowledge with me and I began to see China through her eyes. She finds humor and delight in her surroundings, and her stories reflect her ability to see life in a unique way.

  When she first announced she wanted to go to China, I didn’t want her to go. I didn’t feel she would be safe. I’m glad I loosened the apron strings and allowed her to experience life in another culture. To this day, she says it was one of the best things she’s ever done.

  Is China really a magical world? I don’t know. I’ve never been there. But my daughter’s stories make it sound like an incredible adventure. Her real life experiences made this book come to life and I hope you enjoy this little taste of China.

  Of course, in the end, China is simply the setting. Above all, this is a love story.

  I’d also like to add that this book has Chinese proverbs and sayings interwoven into the story. I feel the need to mention it so you’ll know I didn’t make them up myself and can’t claim credit for them.

  Special thanks to the Chinese people for their thought provoking sayings. Many of them are really quite profound!

  —Taylor

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Taylor Dean

  About the Author

  Climb every mountain, ford every stream,

  follow every rainbow, 'til you find your dream.

  A dream that will need

  all the love you can give,

  every day of your life for as long as you live.

  — Climb Every Mountain, The Sound of Music

  Prologue

  MY THREE OLDER sisters—Saige, Sadie, and Samantha—are all staring at me as if I just committed some type of cardinal sin or something.

  “I have to find him. I have to. I’m going and you can’t stop me,” I repeat firmly.

  “It’s not safe and I don’t think Savannah should go,” Saige says as though I’m not in the room. “Mom wouldn’t like it.”

  I often wonder if our parents ever regretted naming all of their children with names that begin with S. I remember times when they seemed like a tongue-twister in my mother’s mouth.

  The thought of my mother causes physical pain to rip through my chest. I miss you, Mom. “I’ll be perfectly fine,” I counter, but my sisters keep talking as if I’m not there.

  I wish I wasn’t. Going home to Maryland to live with my older sister, Saige, for two weeks before I leave for China is probably not the best decision I’ve ever made.

  I’ve always had four mothers. Since our mother passed a few months ago, my three sisters have taken on their maternal roles with gusto. To make matters worse, they each have their own opinions about my life.

  “Women get abducted in foreign countries all the time.” Sadie slaps her hand on the kitchen table dramatically. “Isn’t the sex slave trade huge over there?”

  I sigh.

  Samantha nods with eager agreement. “With Savannah’s coloring, she’ll stand out.”

  On the contrary, my black hair and olive skin will help me to blend in. My blue eyes will stand out, true, but not from a distance. “All white people stand out in an Asian country.”

  Without missing a beat, Samantha goes on, “She won’t know the language; she won’t know how to read any of the signs. She could get lost or make one wrong turn and be in a bad neighborhood. Savannah could vanish without a trace and we would never know what happened to her.”

  “I’m right here, Samantha. I can hear you.” I hate when they speak as if I’m not in the room.

  “That’s i
t, she’s not going. I vote no,” Saige says. Samantha and Sadie quickly echo the vote.

  “Absolutely not,” Sadie adds. “It’s out of the question.”

  Samantha taps her fingernails on the table. “No way. Not even a possibility.”

  “I’m going with a group of fellow teachers. I won’t be alone.” Not one of my sisters even glances my way. Even though I just turned twenty-six, it makes no difference whatsoever to my sisters. I’m the baby and I always will be. Even when I turn fifty, I’ll still be the baby.

  Saige clasps her hands tightly in front of her. “It’s decided. She’s not going. No way. Mom would’ve objected and now that she’s gone, we have to watch out for Savannah.”

  The words “Does anybody ever hear me?” wander through my mind. A character in the film version of Where the Wild Things Are said it often. The concept resonates with me. I love my sisters and I know they have my best interests at heart, but they are NOT going to make my life decisions for me.

  I stand up, the legs of my chair scraping the tile floor loudly. “She is going to China for four months to teach English.” That gets their attention. I clear my throat and correct myself. “I am going to China. The decision is mine and mine alone. I appreciate your concern and I promise I will be careful. I love each of you very much, but this is something I need to do. I promised Mom I would make a life for myself and this is the first step toward that life. I’m going and I’d like your blessing. Either way,” my chest heaves in and out as I repeat, “I’m going.” My soft voice belies the firmness of my speech, but I’m not backing down.

  My sisters stare at me with wide eyes, perhaps shocked at my show of assertiveness.

  “Besides,” I continue, slowly looking them each in the eyes, “you know why I have to go. I know he’s there and I have to find him.”

  “Please tell me you are not going on about that Paul business again. Searching for him is ridiculous.” Sadie folds her arms across her chest as if sulking. “It’s a fool’s errand.”

  Saige avoids my eyes. “That’s crazy talk, Savannah. You won’t find him.”

  “Is it? Every single thing has come true and you know it. If I don’t find him, I will lose everything.”

  “Don’t overdramatize the situation. It’s just a coincidence,” Samantha spouts heatedly. “There’s no proof.”

  “Really? What about the Red Bird?” I ask.

  That silences them. Simultaneously, their eyes lower and they hunch down in their seats.

  They have nothing to say about the Red Bird. The Red Bird Incident remains to this day, inarguable. Admittedly, it still leaves me speechless too. I’ve often tried to explain it away as coincidence, to convince myself it couldn’t possibly be true. It’s no use. The Red Bird defies all reason and common sense.

  As their silence continues, I say, “It’s not crazy. It’s my future. Miss Pearl was right, you know she was. She told me I would receive tragic news and I did. She told me to watch out for the Red Bird and I did. She told me to search far and wide for Paul . . . and I need to do it.”

  The reminder of the mysterious woman from my past makes my sisters stare into space and avoid eye contact. The experience I had with Miss Pearl at the tender age of eleven left me with an overwhelming and unconquerable desire to find Paul. I can’t ignore it just as I can’t ignore the need for my body to breathe. It’s a part of me. Ingrained into my very being.

  I feel the blood rush to my face and blame it on the end-of-July humidity filtering in through the open kitchen window. “I think China qualifies as far and wide, don’t you?”

  “So does California. What makes you think he’s in China of all places?” Saige counters.

  She has a point.

  I don’t want to explain the events that led to my decision to go to China. It’s complicated and they won’t understand. They need to trust me on this.

  “He’s there. I know he is. And I’m going to find him. I’ll never feel peace until I do.”

  “Okay,” Saige says. “I think this moment calls for ice cream and lots of it. Have a seat, Savannah. We need to talk.”

  Feeling irritated, I slowly lower myself back down. I’m pretty sure ice cream won’t change their minds. Saige grabs three large tubs of ice cream out of the fridge and four spoons. She doesn’t bother with bowls.

  Saige removes the lids and joins us at the table with the late night peace offering. She looks me in the eyes and says, “I can see you’re determined to do this.”

  “Yes.”

  “Here’s the deal, Savannah,” Saige continues. “I’ll support your decision to go if you promise to wear the you-know-what at all times.”

  “What are you talking about?” I hedge.

  Saige glances at Sadie and Samantha and they snicker because they know what Saige is referring to.

  I do too.

  “You know . . . . your magic cloak. It’ll keep you safe,” Saige says, pointing at me with her spoon.

  I pretend I’m not embarrassed and take a bite of the chocolate chip cookie dough. “I was five years old, Saige. Don’t be silly.”

  “Ha!” Samantha laughs. “Do you remember the day we came home from school to a plate of Mom’s fresh homemade cookies on the table? Mom said we could each have two and there sits Savannah with six cookies piled in front of her. We all reminded her Mom said we could only have two and Savannah whispers, ‘Shhhhh, I’m wearing my magic cloak. No one can see me.’ Then we told Mom and she told Savannah invisible girls were still only allowed to have two cookies. I think you were around seven at the time. It wasn’t just a five year old thing.”

  Sadie takes a huge bite of salted caramel. “That’s right, I know for a fact you didn’t think it was silly when you were nine. I distinctly remember your ninth birthday party, Savannah. I found you sitting in your room reading a book while all your friends played in the living room. I asked what you were doing and you said, ‘I’m wearing my magic cloak so no one can see me.’ It’s what you did whenever you wanted alone time.”

  “Exactly,” Saige says, hogging the vanilla fudge. “You can’t fool us, Savannah. It was never silly to you. How long did you wear your magic cloak anyway?”

  I shrug and avoid the question by stealing a bite of the vanilla fudge. I was the surprise of the family. I’m ten years younger than Sadie. Samantha’s a year older than Sadie, and Saige is a year older than Samantha. It’s tough to grow up with much older sisters who remember every dumb thing I did as a child. I can never live anything down.

  “What gave you the idea, anyway?” Samantha pulls the vanilla fudge away from Saige, takes a bite, then Saige pulls it back.

  I concentrate on my next bite of salted caramel. “Bedtime stories with Dad.” It had been a family tradition for Dad to read us a bedtime story each night. “For some reason he thought Grimm’s Fairy Tales were appropriate for a five year old. I think it was because the word Fairy Tale was involved. But those stories certainly aren’t called grim only because of their authors’ names.”

  Samantha pulls the spoon out of her mouth long enough to say, “When Cinderella’s mean old step sisters cut off their toes and heels to fit into the glass slipper, and then get their eyes pecked out by birds, I was seriously traumatized.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Sadie agrees. “Which story inspired the magic cloak? I don’t remember.”

  I guess this conversation is going to happen whether I want it to or not. I’m distinctly uncomfortable and trying to pretend it’s no big deal. “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.”

  Sadie swallows another cold bite and cringes. “Brain freeze.” After she recovers she says, “That’s right. Wasn’t it about twelve princesses who all sleep together in a locked room at night to keep them safe? But then the king doesn’t understand what’s going on when they wake up every morning wearing worn out dancing shoes.”

  Resigned, I say, “Yep, that’s the one. Then the king promises to reward any man from his kingdom who can figure out the mystery.”


  “Oh yeah, I remember now,” Sadie says, raising her hand in the air. “Then an old soldier traveling through the woods meets some weird lady who wants to help him win the king’s reward.”

  “So, she gives him a magic cloak,” Saige says, polishing off the vanilla fudge. “That way he can watch the sisters without being seen and figure out their secret.”

  “Weren’t they sneaking out and taking a boat over to the castle across the lake and dancing the night away?” Samantha asks. “Naughty little gals.”

  “Where else could they go to meet a handsome prince?” Sadie says, laughing at her own comment.

  “I’m sure they were in short supply. Especially when you have eleven sisters. Refresh my memory. What happens next?” Samantha says, looking at me.

  I’m still uneasy with this topic. I feel cornered, like I have no choice but to join in the conversation. “The old soldier watches the princesses while wearing the magic cloak. It keeps him invisible. They have no idea he’s spying on them and has discovered their secret. The next day, he tells the king what he has seen and is made the king’s heir.”

  I remember the first time I heard that story so very well. I was in kindergarten at the time. I remember thinking I needed a magic cloak of my own. If I had a magic cloak, Mrs. Wilson wouldn’t be able to call on me when we had to recite the ABCs in front of the class. I wouldn’t have to stand up and do show and tell either. I remember closing my eyes and wishing for a magic cloak. When I opened my eyes, it was floating down from the sky as if someone had dropped it in my lap. I remember putting it on and feeling safe.

  Evidently I had quite the imagination as a child.

  “And that’s the story that changed your childhood,” Saige says.

  No comment. I remain quiet.

  “You were only five years old, Savannah. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It was so stinking cute when Dad asked you a question and you said, ‘I’m not here. You can’t see me. I’m wearing my magic cloak.’ I think you really thought you were invisible.”

  “The only place it didn’t work was at home.”