The smell of jasmine tea filled the small kitchen as Ava stared at her grandmother across the table. Mei Lee sat calmly, her tiny frame perfectly straight, hands wrapped around a steaming cup. The kitchen, cluttered but cozy, was a testament to decades of family memories. Polaroid photos of smiling relatives adorned the fridge, a faded calendar hung on the wall with dates scribbled in Chinese characters, and a line of porcelain cats perched on the windowsill, each facing slightly askew like a feline choir caught mid-song.
"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Ava finally broke the silence, gripping her own untouched cup of tea. "You're really retiring?"
"Of course," Mei said, her voice light but firm. "Do I look like someone who jokes about retirement?"
Ava gave her a long look. Mei was wearing a sweater emblazoned with a cartoon panda eating a bowl of ramen. It was hard to imagine her being serious about anything.
"This is a terrible idea," Ava said, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know the first thing about matchmaking."
Mei's lips quirked into a sly smile. "You plan weddings. Matchmaking is just the prequel."
"That's not how it works," Ava protested. "Weddings are about logistics. Matchmaking is... emotions and destiny and... whatever it is you do with those weird charts."
Mei's eyes twinkled. "You mean the bazi compatibility charts?"
"Yes, those," Ava said, waving her hand. "You can't just hand me a business based on, what, the phases of the moon?"
Mei set her cup down with a soft clink. "Ava, do you know why I've been so successful?"
Ava groaned. "Because you're stubborn and people are too scared to argue with you?"
Mei chuckled, but her expression turned serious. "Because I understand people. I see things they don't see in themselves. And I trust my instincts. Something you need to learn."
"Me? I'm perfectly fine the way I am," Ava replied, crossing her arms.
Mei raised an eyebrow. "Really? Then why are you so unhappy?"
The words hit Ava like a slap. She opened her mouth to retort but found no words. Instead, she glanced around the kitchen, suddenly hyperaware of the ticking clock on the wall and the faint hum of the fridge. The truth was, she was unhappy, but admitting it would only give Mei more ammunition.
"I'm not unhappy," Ava said, her voice tight. "I'm just busy."
"Busy avoiding what?" Mei pressed.
"Grandma," Ava groaned, standing up abruptly. "Can we not do this right now? I just had a wedding implode in the most spectacular way possible, and now you're springing this on me? I need a break, not more responsibilities."
Mei didn't flinch. "Life doesn't wait for you to be ready, Ava. If you're always waiting for the perfect moment, you'll miss everything that matters."
Ava let out a frustrated sigh and turned toward the window. The evening sunlight streamed in, painting the room in warm golds and oranges. Outside, the neighborhood buzzed with life: kids playing on the sidewalk, a couple walking their dog, the faint sound of a street performer playing a mournful violin tune. It was the kind of scene that usually brought Ava a small sense of peace, but tonight it only added to her restlessness.
"Why me?" Ava asked, her voice quieter now. "Why not... I don't know, anyone else?"
"Because you're my granddaughter," Mei said simply. "And because you're good at this, whether you realize it or not."
Ava turned back to face her. "I'm good at weddings. That doesn't mean I can find people their soulmates."
Mei smiled, the kind of smile that made Ava feel like a child again, caught sneaking cookies before dinner. "You underestimate yourself, Ava. You've always had a way of bringing people together. And you've got something else most matchmakers don't."
"What's that?" Ava asked warily.
"Heart," Mei said, her voice soft but unyielding. "You care about people. Even when you don't want to."
Ava stared at her grandmother, a mix of frustration and begrudging admiration bubbling inside her. She wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down she knew Mei was right. That didn't mean she was ready to admit it.
"And what happens if I say no?" Ava asked, crossing her arms.
Mei's smile widened. "You won't."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting," Mei said, standing up and reaching for a large manila folder on the counter. She slid it across the table toward Ava. "Here. These are your first clients."
Ava stared at the folder like it might explode. "You've already decided, haven't you?"
"Of course," Mei said cheerfully. "You're stubborn, but so am I. Besides, you'll thank me later."
Ava groaned again but picked up the folder, flipping it open. Inside were profiles of people Mei had already vetted: a widower who owned a bakery, a yoga instructor who only dated vegans, and—Ava did a double take—a professional clown. She looked up at Mei in disbelief.
"A clown? Seriously?"
"He's very sweet," Mei said, completely unbothered. "And good with children."
Ava closed the folder with a sigh. "Fine. I'll do it. But only because I don't want you to nag me for the rest of my life."
"Good girl," Mei said, patting Ava's hand. "Now, let's celebrate with dumplings."
---
Later that night, Ava sat in her apartment, staring at the folder on her coffee table. The small space felt unusually quiet, the hum of the city outside muffled by the thick windows. Her apartment, while stylish, lacked the warmth of her grandmother's kitchen. It was all clean lines and neutral tones, a reflection of Ava's meticulously organized life. But tonight, it felt... sterile.
She sighed and picked up the folder, flipping through the profiles again. The bakery owner seemed nice enough, and the yoga instructor, while picky, was at least straightforward. But the clown—Ronald "Bubbles" Smith—was another story.
Ava couldn't suppress a laugh as she read his profile. He described himself as "a hopeless romantic with a penchant for balloon animals" and listed his dream date as "a picnic in a field of wildflowers." She could already picture the disaster this match would be.
Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a text from Ryan.
Ryan: Heard you're the new matchmaker in town. Need help with any prenups? 😉
Ava rolled her eyes and typed back: Ava: Don't you have anything better to do?
The response came almost instantly.
Ryan: Not really. But watching you fail at matchmaking might be my new favorite hobby.
Ava tossed her phone onto the couch, groaning. She had a feeling Ryan wasn't going to let her live this down. But as much as she hated to admit it, the challenge intrigued her. Maybe, just maybe, this matchmaking thing wouldn't be a total disaster.
Or maybe it would. Either way, it was going to be one hell of a ride.