Chapter 8
CONFESSIONAL 1142.5
Yang, Dal (Head Chef, Serenade: Juniper Ridge)
I don’t like talking about that day.
Because I don’t, all right?
[long sigh]
Yeah, the aftermath of the accident sucked. I hardly had a scratch, but here’s my brother with his whole life upended and my parents?—
[stops to stare at ceiling]
It changed the makeup of our family. No mother, no father, and suddenly the younger brother becomes the older brother. Things shift. Stuff like that rocks everyone’s world, and not the fun kind of rocking.
Not a car parked on lover’s lane, but a fucking lifeboat stuck on a tidal wave. Also, the boat’s on fire.
* * *
“He’s asleep.” I close Ji-Hoon’s door and turn to my uncle. “Everything’s fine.”
“Thank God.” Uncle Korain’s shoulders slump, and Mouse ambles over to nose his hand. “I panicked when I saw him like that.”
Like that.
He means swearing and hurling pinecones at the side of the house. It’s the sort of thing I’d do on a normal Tuesday night just to blow off steam, but not cheerful Ji-Hoon.
“UTIs can make him a little bonkers.” I grab a bottle of wine off the counter and catch my uncle’s eye. When he nods, I get down two glasses. “One of those inconvenient side effects of paraplegia. Urinary Tract Infections? Kind of a pain in the ass.”
“I don’t think the ass is what hurts.” Korain doesn’t smile. “That was frightening.”
“It can be.”
I uncork the wine as he rubs Mouse’s ears. With my big dog leaning against his thigh, Korain looks just like my father. The floor tilts beneath me as I pour the wine.
“He’s fine now,” I assure him. “He was cracking jokes like always when I said goodnight just now.”
“That’s good.”
As I pick up the glasses, my uncle loads a tray with Korean treats he brought. Spicy Turtle Chips get piled next to shrimp crackers, which sit beside a big mound of honey butter chips. We assemble our midnight snack without speaking, the two of us working together like we did when I still used a step-stool to reach the counter.
“Lana seems sweet.” He’s trying for casual, but I hear the question in his voice. “It’s been a while since you had a girlfriend.”
I know he’s fishing, and I’m too tired to hold my cards to my chest. “It’s new,” I say carefully. “It’s not really anything yet.”
“Hmm.” He carries the tray of snacks to the living room, and I follow behind with both glasses and the bottle tucked under one arm. As soon as we sit, he faces me. “I understand you want to share your father’s secret on television.”
My jaw clenches around the shrimp cracker I’ve just shoved in my mouth. “That’s correct.”
He chews in silence for a bit. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Why?”
Swirling his wine, he looks in the glass like the answer might be floating there. “Let sleeping dogs lie, Dal.”
A snort slips out before I can stop it. “You’re the one who came here. Who flew all this way just to tell us.”
“You had a right to know,” he insists. “To understand you weren’t to blame.”
“And you don’t think the public has a right to the full story?” When he starts to argue, I hold out a hand. “In one form or another, Ji-Hoon and I have been on television since we were babies. The public knew us before we could walk. Since Ji-Hoon could still walk.”
“I know that, joka.” The sharpness in his voice jars me so much that I almost miss his next words. “Do you think I don’t know that?” He lets out a long, ragged breath. “Some information is meant to stay private. For families to keep to themselves.”
Another snort lurches out of me. “You should have thought of that before you turned Ji-Hoon’s recovery into a televised circus.”
When he flinches, I know I’ve struck a nerve. In all these years, I’ve never said those words to him. Maybe I should have.
After a long pause, he sighs. “You’re right that I could have handled things better. I’d just lost my brother. I’d lost my—” His voice squeezes tight like his air’s been cut off. “I’d lost my business partner. My best friend since we were born.”
My heart balls up like a fist as my hands do the same. I’m torn between feeling sorry for him and…well, feeling sorry for me. For my brother, who got the lousiest deal of all. “Ji-Hoon and I lost our parents,” I point out. “We both lost much more than that. We understand pain.”
He winces and looks away. “I did my best,” he says softly. “Did I make the right choices? Perhaps not. But I tried to find comfort where I could for you boys.” His lips press together in a thin, pale line. “For myself.”
The pain in his eyes lets my anger leak slowly from my limbs. I owe Korain something more than my anger. “You tried,” I murmur. “We were all just doing the best we could.”
“Yes.” He looks down at the chip in his hand. “That’s right.”
I let those words linger, wondering where we go from here. It feels like we’re at an impasse. “Are you familiar with the Christopher Reeve Foundation?”
My uncle blinks, digesting the subject change. “A charity for individuals living with paralysis?”
“Yes.” I’m not surprised he knows. “Founded in honor of the man who played Superman in the eighties films. He was paralyzed in a horseback riding accident.” I set down my wineglass as Mouse ambles over and nudges my hand to pet her. “Care to guess how many donations have been made in Ji-Hoon’s name since Fresh Start at Juniper Ridge started airing on television?”
My Uncle looks up at the ceiling. I’m not sure if he’s thinking or using gravity to hold back tears. “Many, I presume?”
“Many.” There’s the understatement of the year. “More than a quarter of a million dollars since the show was first broadcast.”
Korain hides his surprise, but I still see it. “And you believe sharing your father’s ailment could help raise awareness for Parkinson’s.”
“Yes.” That didn’t dawn on me until an hour ago, but it’s crossed my mind. “Just one of many potential benefits of being truthful.”
He considers that, then glances away. “Did it occur to you that your father had reasons for keeping his secret?”
“Don’t most people?”
Korain doesn’t answer right away. “You understand privacy, joka.”
His meaning hits me right in the chest. “You mean when Cherri and I split up?” I sure as hell didn’t get much privacy then. “I’m pissed that she used me, but?—”
“Not Cherri,” he says softly. “Your brother. He told me what happened the last time he had an infection.”
I stare at my uncle, ready to argue. To tell him that’s different.
But he’s right and I know it.
Last year, Ji-Hoon had a UTI incident like this one. It was pinecones tonight, but last time involved a pants-free cruise around campus in his wheelchair. I learned later it was Lana who laid down the law. Who informed all her siblings that they would not, under any circumstances, air footage on the show.
I never thanked her for that, did I?
Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s different.
“You do see,” he says when I don’t respond. “Protecting someone you love sometimes means keeping their secrets.”
Frowning, I pick up my wine. “You’re saying you did know about my father’s condition.”
Uncle Korain throws up his hands. Cursing in Korean, he violently chomps a chip. “Stubborn as a mule,” he mutters. He’s speaking English now, though I’d grasp his meaning either way. “For the last time, Dal—I did not know your father suffered from Parkinson’s. He never spoke a word of it to me. I saw no tremors. No outward symptoms at all.”
“Okay.”
He stares at my face, dark eyes flashing. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” I wait a few beats to make sure. “I believe you.”
“Yu-Jun kept me in the dark, just like you.” He huffs out a breath. “Happy?”
“Yes.” I pick up a Turtle Chip. “Actually no.”
“No?”
“I’m not happy.” I chomp on the chip, savoring its spicy, airy crunch. “I’m not happy you suffered.”
“Thank you.” He blinks a few times and sips his wine. “Nor am I happy for what you and your brother suffered.”
I nod and reach for another chip. He does the same, and our fingers collide over the snack tray. Without thinking, I catch his hand and hold. “We’ve been through a lot.” My voice sounds rough and strained. “All of us.”
“Yes.” His throat rolls as he swallows.
“We’re still family.”
Tears fill his eyes, and he blinks them back. “Yes.”
“I’m glad you came to visit.”
He nods as his eyes shimmer. “So am I.”
The moment feels tense and brittle. I don’t want to leave things like this. “I take it back.”
Korain blinks. “We’re not family?”
“No, I’m also unhappy about something else.” I squeeze his hand and release it. “If you hadn’t come banging on my car, I’d probably be having sex right now.”
Roaring with laughter, Korain sets his wine down hard. “It’s been two hours since lovely Lana departed.” He draws a hankie from a pocket and dabs at his eyes. “Even for a young man like you, that’s unlikely endurance.”
I chuckle as well, grabbing a handful of shrimp crackers. Mouse gives me a pitiful look, so I hand one to her. She takes it daintily, crunching with pleasure.
“I’m going to bed.” Even as I say this, I don’t get up off the couch.
Korain watches me, missing nothing. He must assume I still want to talk, and maybe he’s right.
“Do you love her?”
“Lana?”
“No, Mouse.” My uncle rolls his eyes and leans across me to scratch the dog’s ears. My big doofy dog offers her belly. “Of course, Lana.”
I hand Mouse another shrimp cracker, which she chomps as my uncle rubs her belly. Rough life for this dog. “I’m not even sure if we’re dating,” I point out. “Lana and me, I mean.”
“Glad you didn’t mean the dog.” Korain looks thoughtful. “Lana’s your girlfriend, then?”
I’m really not sure. “It’s complicated.”
“Love often is.”
I snort. “I don’t know about love…”
“Really, joka?” He looks deep in my eyes, like my father would do when he sensed me fibbing about finishing my homework. I shift on the couch without speaking. “Your silence says volumes. I only hope you see this.” He stands and drains the last of his wine, patting me on the shoulder as he heads for the kitchen. “Good night, Dal. I’m sorry I ruined your date.”
“It’s okay.” I look down at Mouse, who surveys the empty tray with sad eyes. “I’m always glad to help my brother.”
My uncle gives me the oddest look. “Same, joka. Same.”
As he walks out the door, he pauses to ruffle my hair. I peer through the window, watching him vanish past the edge of the house.
* * *
“At least youkept your pants on this time.” Dr. Imani Williams scrawls something on her prescription pad and tears it off. “I’ll call that a win.”
“Speak for yourself.” My brother grins and takes the scrip from her hand. He looks pale, or maybe that’s just the contrast of Doc Williams’s dark skin against his tawnier tone. “I kinda liked the pants-free cruise.”
The good doc laughs and sets her stethoscope off to the side. “Any questions before I send you on your way, gentlemen?”
“You’re sure he’s okay?” I cross my arms so they won’t see my sweaty palms. “Do you want to take his temperature or something?”
“For fuck’s sake, Dal.” My brother rolls his eyes. “She’s a Harvard-educated physician who did fellowships in neurology and internal medicine. I’m pretty sure she can handle a pee-pee infection.”
Doc Williams regards him with kindness in her eyes. “I’ll let you know as soon as we get lab results back for the rest of the tests I ordered.” She looks at me when she says the next part. “And you know you can call me anytime, night or day.”
Ji-Hoon grabs my forearm and powers his chair toward the door. “Maybe you can boost my top speed,” he calls to Doc Williams as he heads down the hall. “Give me a chance to drag this dipshit behind me.”
“Hardy har.” I follow my brother out the door of the clinic, not ready to concede he’s okay. As soon as we reach the paved path outside, I fall into step beside him. “You gave us a scare.”
“I’m fine, Dal.” He waves to Mari and Griffin, pushing their baby in a stroller as Griff’s teenage daughter skips beside them. They all say hellos with the backdrop of birdsong like a goddamn Disney flick. It’s a beautiful day. Even I can see that.
That doesn’t mean I worry any less. “How are things with Rosa?”
“Good.” Ji-Hoon grins like he’s got a secret. “Excellent.”
I’m spared from hearing details when the bakery door swings open. Nick Armbrust strides through with a bag in one hand.
“Hey there,” he calls, lifting a hand to high-five us both. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” Nick’s one of my favorite guys here at Juniper Ridge. He’s married to Lana’s oldest sister, and I know for a fact Lauren keeps him on his toes.
Nick slaps my palm, then Ji-Hoon’s, as he holds open the bakery door for us both. “Going in?”
I wasn’t, but my brother zooms ahead. “Thanks.”
Guess we’re getting baked goods. As we enter the cozy café, Colleen Mumford-Carver looks up and waves. “Just the men I was looking for.” Her silver-white braid swings over one shoulder as she waves us over to the bakery case. “Patti made way too many marionberry muffins this morning. I seem to recall you gents are fans.”
Ji-Hoon beams and wheels up to the counter. “You know it.”
My mouth’s watering as I step up behind him. I’d give my left nut to have a fraction of Patti’s baking talent, and she’s not even formally trained. She and Colleen run this place part-time, but they’re wildlife biologists. And moms to an ex-Navy SEAL. Rumor has it Colleen’s also an internet hacker, but I’ve never heard the full story.
“Seen any foxes lately?” I lean on the counter to study the reader board.
Colleen winks, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Just my lovely bride.”
Patti blushes and swats her with a spatula. “Honestly, Colleen. You’re ridiculous.”
They both are, and it’s adorable. My parents were like this once. I couldn’t turn around as a kid without seeing my mom pat my father’s backside or catching my dad with his hand up Mom’s top. Maybe less as we got older, the more Ji-Hoon and I became obnoxious teens. We’d make gagging sounds when they’d kiss, and eventually they stopped doing it in front of us.
I’d kill to see Dad hold my mom in his arms, just once.
An empty ache settles in my chest as Ji-Hoon wheels to a corner table. Patti sets down a plate of muffins with a flourish. “On the house,” she says. “I meant to make a regular batch, but I doubled the recipe on accident.”
Right.
I take a bite of muffin and chew before replying. “You’re sure you aren’t just saying that because you live next door to us and saw Doc Williams come to our place last night?”
“Don’t be silly.” Patti sets down two big mugs of oat milk, because of course she remembers we’re both lactose intolerant. “You boys shout if you need more.”
“Thank you, Patti.” Ji-Hoon’s already devoured half a muffin. “Damn, that’s good.”
I take a bite and, of course, he’s right. “Amazing as always,” I shout as she shuffles back behind the counter, giving us privacy to talk.
“So.” Ji-Hoon takes another bite of muffin. “Dad had Parkinson’s, huh?”
I’m not the only Yang brother who gets right to the point. “Were you shocked?”
“Shocked?” He cocks his head, considering. “Surprised, maybe. It actually explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember how Dad couldn’t smell kimchi anymore?”
“No.” A faint memory tickles the back of my brain. Dad at the kitchen counter, elbow deep in a bowl of cabbage and pungent vinegar. Mom’s arms wrapped around him, palm rubbing his chest as he worked. “Maybe.”
“We were stupid little teenage pricks,” he says, and I have to agree. “But I remember that part. How Mom kept waving things under his nose.”
“That’s a symptom?”
Ji-Hoon nods, his mouth full of muffin. “Yep. Same with sleep issues. Remember how he started staying up late and working weird hours?”
“Barely.” I feel like an asshole. “I guess I spaced on a lot of that. Self-absorbed pre-teen and all.”
He gives me a look that suggests I might still have my head up my ass. “Thanks for the help last night.”
I shake my head slowly, peeling the wrapper off a muffin. “I should have been there for you,” I insist. “It was shitty to leave you alone.”
My brother gives an exasperated snort. “Do you even hear yourself sometimes? What, you want to lock me in a cage and keep watch over me 24/7?”
“Tempting.” I bite into a muffin. It’s moist and spongy and tastes like summer. “Does it make you feel better?”
“The muffin?” He shoves the second half into his mouth and chews. “Definitely.”
“I meant learning we might not have caused the?—”
“I know what you meant, Dal.” He grabs another muffin off the plate. “We’ll never know for sure, will we?”
“What’s that?”
“If we hadn’t been horsing around, would Mom and Dad still be here?”
He doesn’t say the rest of it. He doesn’t need to.
“You might still have use of your?—”
“Don’t.” Ji-Hoon shakes his head and peels the wrapper off his pastry. “Nothing good can come from obsessing over who’s more to blame. It’s pointless and I’m tired of it.”
“Wow.” It’s rare to hear Ji-Hoon so worked up. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
I’m being sarcastic, but he ignores all that. His dark eyes blaze, forearms flexing on the table. “Okay, I will. Yeah, it’s a little comforting to know we don’t shoulder the entire burden of blame for what happened. Are you happy?”
“Why does everyone keep asking if I’m happy?”
“It’s a rhetorical question.” Ji-Hoon cocks his head. “Wait. Who else asked?”
“Uncle Korain. Last night.”
“And what did you say?”
One edge of my mouth tips up, despite my best effort not to smile. “I told him I was pretty happy in my car right before he banged on the window.”
Ji-Hoon guffaws, and we’re back to being dipshit brothers. What if we’d gone through our teen years together? Not navigating hospital stays and surgeries and our parents’ death, but normal teen stuff like dances and dates and backseat hookups.
“I’ve got another big date with Rosa.” He bites into his muffin, watching my reaction.
I shake myself back to our bakery table. “When?”
“Early next week. An overnight date this time.”
“No kidding?” That’s a big step. “Sounds serious.”
“Kinda.” His grin tells me he’s way more smitten than he’ll admit. “We’re spending a couple nights at Ponderosa Resort.”
“Over in Bend?”
“Yep.” He chews a mouthful of muffin. “Korain’s coming, too.”
“Ah. So not that kind of overnight date.”
My brother rolls his eyes. “Korain’s staying at the lodge and I’ve got a private cabin, so yes—potentially ‘that kind of overnight date.’” He mocks me with air quotes, then shrugs. “It’s a two-bedroom cabin. I’ll leave it up to Rosa if she’s ready to take things to that level.”
I nod and take a gulp of oat milk. “You, uh…have what you need?”
My brother tilts his head. “You mean condoms, Viagra, cock rings, or an appointment for penile injection therapy?”
“Jesus, dude.” I glance around, but the café is blessedly empty. Behind the counter, Patti and Colleen stand measuring a shelf above the cash register. In the opposite corner, a very pregnant Police Chief Amy Lovelin sits eating a cinnamon roll as she scrolls on her phone.
Ji-Hoon’s laughing when I turn back to him. “What?” he asks, still chuckling. “You’re the only one who gets to be rudely blunt?”
“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”
“Why?” He sounds truly perplexed. “Because I’m talking about sex?”
“Because it’s—” Crap. I’m not sure how I planned to finish that sentence.
“Awkward?” he supplies helpfully. “Too personal? Weird for strangers to contemplate if they’ve never wondered how a guy with paraplegia gets it up?”
“About you,” I argue, not sure I’m making the point I mean to make.
Ji-Hoon shakes his head. “I’m not embarrassed, Dal. It’s a fact of life. A fact of my life. There’s nothing shameful about me having a normal sexual relationship.” He flashes a smile that’s half cocky, half self-deprecating. “Normal for me, anyway.”
“I don’t want anyone knowing that shit about you.”
“Why not?” My brother folds his arms. “It’s normal for people to be curious. I’m not ashamed.”
“And you shouldn’t be.” Why does this bug me so much? “Your personal business is your business.”
“That’s right, Dal—it’s mine to handle as I choose.” He leans in close, like he needs me to hear this. “Maybe I want people to see the reality of my life. To see the real me—warts and all. Urinary tract infections and dick dilemmas and flip-outs where I’m flinging pinecones at the house like a madman. That doesn’t bother me. You know what bothers me?”
“What?” I’m almost afraid of the answer.
“Being treated like half a person,” he says softly. “Like I’ll break if you don’t handle me with kid gloves.”
“I know you won’t.” My throat feels fiery and thick. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
“So let me be strong, Dal.” He reaches across the table, putting his hand over mine. Even now, my older brother’s palm dwarfs mine. His feels callused and rough and so familiar I feel tears in my eyes. “Let me prove I can be.”
“You already have.” I nod, so he knows I’m listening. “Okay.” I swallow hard because my throat isn’t working right. “I hear you. I’ll back off.”
“I know you’re a butthead because you love me.” He grins and wolfs down the last of his muffin. “So you must really be a butthead to Lana.”
I choose to ignore that last part. “I love you a fuck-ton,” I tell him. “And I want what’s best for you.”
“I know you do. So let me be the judge of that.”
“Okay.” I draw a deep breath and manage a shaky smile. “But if you think I’m letting you have that last muffin because you’re in a wheelchair, you’ve got another th?—”
“Too slow,” he says, snatching it off the plate with a grin. “I can still whoop your ass, baby brother.”
I force myself to glare at him, even though I’m laughing on the inside. “You’d better be planning to split that.”
“No way.” He makes a big show of licking it, top to bottom and all over the sides. “Mine now.”
“Disgusting.” God, I love him.
The door chimes and we both look up. A ray of sunshine spills through, and floating on top of it…“Lana.”
“Over here,” my brother yells, and I glare for real this time. “What?” he hisses as she heads our way. “You know you want to see her.”
He’s not wrong. I stand as she reaches the table, fighting the urge to grin like an idiot. “Hey.”
Ji-Hoon swallows a mouthful of muffin. “Give me a sec to stand up and greet you.”
It’s a quip he delivers when he wants to watch someone squirm, but it rolls right off Lana. She bends with a smile to give him a hug.
“You’re perfect right where you are,” she says. “Makes it easier to throw myself in your lap.”
My brother laughs and winks over her shoulder as he hugs her back. “We were just talking about you.”
I glare at my brother. “No, we weren’t.”
“Sure we were.” Ji-Hoon grins. “We were talking about sex, anyway.”
Not batting an eye, Lana drops into the chair beside him. “Sounds titillating.”
“Very much so.” He waves in my general direction. “Tell me something, Lana—you can be honest. Ready to answer some tough questions?”
“Absolutely.” She sits up straighter in her chair and gives me a wink. “I’m very good at QA.”
I fight the urge to mouth good girl, since my brother’s watching. That’s just between Lana and me.
“Okay, here goes.” Ji-Hoon rubs his hands together, delighted by the chance to annoy me. “Do you like my brother?”
“Dal?” She considers me like I’m a stranger and not the guy with a hand up her shirt less than twelve hours ago. “He’s all right.”
Ji-Hoon hoots with laughter. “Just all right, huh?”
I fold my arms and frown at them both. “Are you two having fun?”
They clearly are, since they both ignore me. “If you were feeling desperate,” Ji-Hoon continues. “Like maybe you hadn’t been kissed for a while. Let’s say years.”
“Years?” She shudders like that’s a fate worse than death. “Okay.”
“Right, so, under those circumstances, and let’s just pretend you’re on a desert island and dumbass Dal is the last man on earth, would you consider sleeping with him?”
“Hmm.” She tucks a hand under her chin and pretends to study me. “He’s kinda grumpy.”
“Right?” Ji-Hoon shakes his head sadly. “We’re working on that.”
“He’s a little bossy, too.” She folds her arms and studies me. “And he swears a lot.”
He shakes his head like he’s scolding me. “We’ve talked about this, Dal.”
I flip him the bird, but he pretends not to see me. “Anything else, Lana?”
She’s trying so hard not to smile, but it isn’t working. “He has this terrible habit of blurting whatever springs into his mind.”
“Everything, huh?” Ji-Hoon looks at me. “Is that true?”
I look at Lana, wanting her more than I ever have. Loving her even more. “No,” I say, feeling my heart spring to life. “Not true. Not everything.”
“Huh.” He turns back to her. “Sounds like you two have some talking to do.”
“Talking, huh?” She gives me a flirty smile. “Is that what the kids call it these days?”
Ji-Hoon clears his throat. “Since we’re on the subject of blurting things, I should go ahead and put it out there that I’ll be out of town for a couple nights.”
“Oh?” Her blue eyes go wide as she looks between him and me. “Everything’s okay, I hope?”
“I’ve got a date.” Ji-Hoon sounds so proud that I have to smile. “And my uncle’s traveling, too, which means this asshole will have a house to himself for two nights.”
“Is that so?” Her expression’s unreadable as she looks at me. Almost unreadable. I don’t miss the spark in her eyes. “I hope you don’t get lonely.”
God, she’s sexy. And funny and smart and gorgeous and— “I’ll manage,” I tell her, doing my best to keep a straight face. “But if you want to swing by and check on me, that might be a good idea.”
“I might just do that.” She smiles and gets to her feet, taking her sunshine with her. “Now if you guys will excuse me, I’m here to grab a cake for my nephew’s birthday.”
“Gabe and Gretchen’s little guy?” Because of course my brother knows everyone. “Give baby Taylor a high five for me.”
“I will.” Lana looks at me and her smile melts the heat in my core. “I’ll see you around, Dal.”
“I hope so.” My heart rings in my ears, along with my brother’s laughter.
The instant she’s gone, he punches me in the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, brother.”
For once in my life, I don’t try denying it. “Yeah,” I admit, watching her sail out the door. “I guess I might.”
Maybe it’s time to do something about that.