3. Helen
My own mother has come to visit me exactly three times in my forty plus years of life. She emailed me about the visit several times—once to get permission—before each of her trips. I did convince her to ambush Abigail in an attempt to stave off the Steve blunder, but otherwise, the Fosters aren’t big on surprises.
“Helen!” David’s mother opens her arms wide like she thinks we’re going to hug.
I was led to believe Koreans were a little more reserved, especially the wealthy ones. Did K-dramas lie to me? “Mrs. Park,” I say. “What a wonderful surprise.”
Mr. Park steps toward me, one hand extended. “We like to surprise David sometimes, and now that means you as well.”
I shake his hand, happy to see that at least they know the normal American etiquette for someone you’ve never met. “Like an unplanned audit.”
Mr. Park’s laughter is loud and booming, an exaggerated version of his son’s, honestly. And he has aged well—really well, since he has an older daughter too.
“We wanted to check over the business, of course, because you mentioned an acquisition on the phone, but then we never heard anything more about it.” Mrs. Park gestures toward the conference room table.
I sit, but I can’t help noticing that David has been entirely quiet since summoning me. “Surely David mentioned that I was on my way to Los Angeles for a meeting?” I glare at him. “A meeting that was hard to get.”
“Isn’t that why we have private jets?” David’s smiling, but it looks a little pained.
“We told David that just a few hours of your time would help us feel much better about things.” Mrs. Park sits across from me, like we’re about to discuss a business deal. Then she looks at me expectantly.
Arewe talking about business? “I’m sorry—what things exactly do we have to discuss?” I hate feeling like I failed to read a memo that was marked urgent.
“My son isn’t young, and you’re even older than he is.” Mrs. Park leans closer. “You called me a few months back and told me that you were getting married, but we haven’t heard a single peep about it since. We’ve been patient, but as far as I can tell, you’ve made no progress whatsoever in pinning things down.”
Pinning things. . . “Do you mean, like setting a date?”
Mrs. Park blinks. “Surely you two have chosen a date already.”
“Helen and I both have busy schedules,” David says. “We were just so happy to be engaged that?—”
Mrs. Park grabs my hand, pulling it toward her. “What is this?” She’s peering at the ring David had custom made for me at Tiffany’s. It’s supposed to be a tiny shackle. “What on earth is this?” She snaps her head toward her son, who’s now sitting beside me. “No wonder she’s not rushing to marry you. You bought her the ugliest ring I have ever seen. Americans care about this kind of thing. You’ve embarrassed her.”
“Mom, it has a special meaning.” David’s finally starting to look a little annoyed, but he’s about an hour late, if you ask me. Which Mrs. Park will surely do any minute.
“What’s the meaning?” She tilts her head. “Does it symbolize that your relationship is mechanical? Or is it something to do with garbage?” She purses her lips.
Mr. Park clears his throat. “You’re being worse than my mother.”
Mrs. Park’s eyes fly wide, and she rounds on her husband. She’s speaking Korean far too fast for me to understand what she’s saying, but he sure earned himself an earful. At least he freed my hand. I was about two seconds away from gnawing it off at my wrist just to escape.
“Listen,” I say in a short lull. “David and I aren’t even sure that we’re getting married.”
Mrs. Park freezes.
So does her husband.
David grunts next to me.
“If you think about it, from a business perspective, unless an acquisition by my company makes sense to grow your group, there’s really no reason for us to get married. When David and I looked into the numbers, your strengths and ours. . .” I shrug. “I mostly acquire undervalued companies so I can sell them off or fix them up and then sell them off. You have a totally different growth strategy, which is admirable, and your company isn’t undervalued, so?—”
“You can’t sell our company off.” Mrs. Park’s consonants are clipped.
“Exactly,” I say.
“So you’re breaking up?” Mr. Park frowns.
David laughs. “No, Dad, we aren’t breaking up. She’s just not planning to acquire our American branch at this time.”
Mr. Park blinks. “And because our company isn’t undervalued, you’re not getting married?”
“The only good reasons to get married are to solidify an unequal merger or acquisition,” I say, “or if you’re having children.”
“Exactly.” Mrs. Park smiles. “Most Americans don’t understand, but your parents raised you properly.”
I frown. “Which is why we don’t need to get married.”
Now Mrs. Park and Mr. Park are both frowning. “Are you saying you never plan to have children?”
“I’ve been very clear with David that I don’t want?—”
“To be forced into anything,” David says. “We’re going to let things happen as they happen.” He stands up. “And on that note, my lovely girlfriend has a meeting in the morning and there’s a long way for her to go before she gets there.”
“Right.” I stand up, not as relieved as I expected to be. “Yes, I do need to go.”
“And while she’s hard at work, I’ll show you around the resort,” David says. “I think you’ll find that everything meets the international standard. . .or exceeds it.”
“Forget the international standard,” Mrs. Park says. “You’re too old to be taking things as they come.” She stands, bracing her hands against the top of the table. “How old are you exactly? Because with every year you go past forty, the chances that you’ll have a child decrease. You should be involving the best doctors in the country. You need to work on this immediately.”
“If you don’t want to get married, well.” Mr. Park shakes his head in disgust. “But at least think of the next generation.”
“Of course we’re doing that, Mom,” David says. “Helen is the smartest person I’ve ever met—she’s the smartest person you’ve ever met. You can be sure that we’re handling things in the best way.”
He actually winks at me as he ushers his parents out the door. I’m still fuming as I walk out and head for the stairs. Before I can start down them, David jogs down the hall. “Helen, wait.”
I whip around, my eyes flashing, I’m quite sure. “What in the world was that?—”
He grabs my face with both hands and kisses me. It’s irresponsible, it’s irritating, and it works far better than it should. With his mouth on mine, I can almost forget his ludicrous show of cowardice and idiocy in that conference room.
Almost.
When he finally releases me, my knees a little weak, my head spinning, I blink once. “What was that?—”
“To remind you why you love me.”
“Your parents are?—”
“Horrible? The worst?” He sighs. “It’s a miracle I’ve kept them away as long as I have, honestly. I thought they’d show up right after you called them from my phone in New York.”
“But you told them we’re handling things,” I say. “And we have no plans to get married, much less have children.” I’m sputtering. “I have an IUD, David, and I’m forty-four. The chances of me getting pregnant, even without an IUD at my age are?—”
He kisses me again, but it’s shorter this time. “Helen Fisher, I love you. I love your stubborn streak. I love your passion. I love your fury. I even love when you make that face that warns me that you’re about to attack. I know you have no plans for children, but I also know that telling my parents that would set us up for a war I don’t want to fight.”
I can’t help blinking. Several times. “But then. . .”
“I’ve done this with them my entire life. If you just keep tabling the discussion, you win by default.”
“You’re not going to tell them that we aren’t planning a wedding or kids? You’ll just keep letting them fly out here and accost us?”
“They’re busy a lot. They don’t come out very often.” He shrugs. “For better or worse, I’m the younger child. Ninety-nine percent of their crazy lands on my sister, who’s almost your age, by the way, and still childless. In our culture, we’re about the worst two kids you could possibly imagine. So I let her deal with their nonsense and I live my life in peace almost all year long.”
“But if you?—”
“You don’t get it. I win without fighting with them at all. I nod, and I give vague answers, and instead of fuming and threats, they think we’re on the same page. Then I do what I want. It’s really for the best.” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. There’s a reason I moved to America and almost never go back to Korea. I like it here—everyone lets kids make their own decisions. They act like we have a right to choose things in our own life.” He beams.
He’s so gorgeous when he smiles, and he knows his parents better than I do. “Fine.” I would never ask him to understand the profound damage my parents inflicted on me and Abby, so I suppose I shouldn’t expect to understand how he handles his. “I’m going to LA, and I’m not going to think about babies at all while I’m there.”
He’s still smiling as he bites his lip. “I mean, don’t think about babies, but you could think about practicing making them.”
I can’t help my laugh. He’s a grown man, but he’s still a teenage boy. “I’ll only be gone for a day. Let’s get dinner tomorrow and I’ll tell you everything I thought about on my trip.”
Only, on the way to my jet, and on the flight to LA, I’m not thinking about David and his impossibly beautiful face or his improbably beautiful physique. I spend most of the flight thinking about what he said to his parents. Thinking about what he said to me.
Any way I slice it, I can’t help wondering. . .what if he does the same thing to me? What if, when he agrees with me on things, he’s really just saying what he has to say to keep me happy? I’ve thought this whole time that he was fine with me exactly as I am.
But what if my boyfriend, whom I love dearly, is going to resent me forever because I didn’t marry him and pop out a kid? What if instead of placating his parents, all his vague assurances are really for my benefit?
It may be time to break up with the glorious David Park, and that thought leaves me feeling very, very broken inside.