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?