Chapter 45
Comprehending Leila’s motivations wouldn’t have changed how Jiyeon felt about her.
Still, she tried to understand. So many theories were plausible.
Leila disapproved of Eunjae's decisions, so maybe this was for revenge, or punishment.
Maybe she genuinely thought breaking into the entertainment industry would be a viable way for Ezra to make a living.
As of today, Jiyeon had a new theory. Fame was the dream that eluded Leila in her youth. It became the dream she forced on Eunjae.
“Come on,” she said now, growing impatient. “We really do need to go, my love.”
But the teenager resisted. “Mum, they still need help here. I can’t go yet.”
“That’s sweet, but plenty of people felt sorry for them. They don’t need you.”
“But—” He looked to his brother, to their father standing on the sidewalk. In what Jiyeon considered to be the most potent surprise of the day, it was the latter who picked a fight on Ezra’s behalf.
“He’s too young,” Simon said. “Ezra should go back to school. We can talk about this when he's older.”
“Since when do you care?”
“I cared then, too. I didn't… I didn't say anything. That was a mistake.”
This admission hit Jiyeon like a truck. How must it have felt for Eunjae?
Leila stopped in her tracks, so beautiful with the sunlight caught in her hair, setting the strands aglow. Her rage was palpable. Ezra shrank back, frightened by this side of his mother, a side he hadn’t seen until now.
Eunjae wrapped an arm around him. He glanced at Jiyeon, holding her gaze for a long moment.
She read the sadness in his eyes, but also an unshakable conviction.
He'd been so afraid that it would come to this: the cycle repeating, Ezra devoured by their mother’s ambitions. None of that fear remained.
He made no promises and no threats. He didn't offer solutions, or warnings, or advice. Despite the complexity of his feelings, Eunjae turned to his brother and said, “What do you want to do?”
Time contracted, expanded, flowed in reverse.
Those were Jiyeon's words, the question she'd asked him just hours after they met.
You don't even know what that meant to me, he'd told her once, later in the summer, when everything between them had changed. You didn’t tell me what to do. You gave me a choice.
A choice. That's what he'd given to his brother, and Jiyeon understood exactly what it cost him. She loved him so much for it.
Whatever Ezra had expected from Eunjae, it wasn't this. His expression flickered in and out of disbelief. “You're letting me decide?”
“It's your life. You should get to choose.”
“You won’t be mad if I want to try?”
“If that's what you want, I'll help you. And if it's not, I'll still help you.”
For once, Ezra didn't question what he'd been told. He only nodded and said, “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Yeah. Take as long as you need.”
“That's definitely something you should think about before you start,” Jiyeon put in. “Look it up first.”
He nodded, pensive. “But if I try that thing two weeks from now, I'll have to miss more school, like Mum said.”
“I don't know if a few weeks would make much difference when you've been gone for two months already.” Eunjae retreated into the shade, out of the glare, and consulted the calendar on his phone.
But then he realized that the coming weeks would be empty of obligations, what with Sunshine 24/7 wrapping up on Friday.
His expression lightened. “I could drive you there. I'll just stay in the car, though, so I won’t be in your way—”
“You don't even have your own car,” Ezra pointed out. “And you don't have a place to live, or a job. I mean, I guess you have a job, it's just going nowhere…” He trailed off. “Wait, you can't stay in the car. I don't know what I'm doing. You have to come with me. I mean, at least to the door.”
“At least to the door, then,” Eunjae agreed, trying very hard not to smile. Good for him, Jiyeon thought to herself. She still wanted to cry. She'd probably have to duck into the pantry and sob it out before they carried on with the rest of the day.
“What about the casting call?” she asked, sending a reply to Denny. He’d been summoning them to lunch for the past ten minutes. “Leila said it was tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t really want to do that one.” Warily, Ezra looked over at his mother, still arguing with Simon. “She'll be mad if I say that, but I don't even know what that show is about. What if it sucks? Or like, what if I'm supposed to play a character who sucks?”
“Let her be mad,” said Jiyeon, stoutly. She sent another text to her brother, and one to her mom, glimpsing the preview on the latest of six messages from Arthur. He’d seen the picture of them leaving the airport. “Arthur’s saying he tried to call you five times,” she told Eunjae.
“Ah, yeah. Blocked him last month.”
“You blocked him?”
“I did.”
“You don’t have to stop being friends with Arthur ‘cause of me. I hope that’s not why.”
Eunjae blinked at her. “Did he ever say sorry to you?”
“Hmm. Not really.”
“Then I can’t be his friend.” Having explained this, he went right back to assuring Ezra that their mother couldn’t make him audition.
He was still a minor, so there would be paperwork.
They’d require signatures from both parents, since it was a shared custody agreement, and it didn’t look like Simon would agree to sign.
“I’m starting to think he only signed the papers for our show because you wanted to do it. ”
Frenzied barking interrupted the conversation. Joey lumbered through the back door with Uyu. “This is where you were hiding! Go, go. Listen to Charlie, huh? She’s saying, ‘Time to eat!’”
“Her name’s Charlie now?”
“Oh, they told me that in a letter,” said Ezra. “They said the puppy can be Charlie because all the plants are named Charles.”
Lizzie shoved the old wooden wedge into place, beaming.
“I’ve been saying this, Yeonnie. Naming everybody Charles, that’s how you make it easier.
Jane Austen was a very smart lady. Imagine if she picked names for Apollo!
Nine boys, all named Charles. Done! Easy!
” Still beaming, she patted Eunjae on the cheek, then Ezra, then Jiyeon. Then she went straight to business.
“I’m so happy to meet you,” Lizzie announced, taking both of Leila’s hands in hers.
“Thank you for your two sweet boys. I will take very good care of them. Don’t ever worry again, not even a little bit.
” She led the astonished woman to her rental car.
“Drive safe, yeah? Scary out there! Some people drive so fast!”
Neither Eunjae nor Ezra had noticed Denny’s arrival. They both yelped when he appeared, laden with potluck food already neatly packaged for Leila’s convenience. They yelped again when he told Jiyeon they were ready for the softball bat.
“Sure. It’s in the trunk, hang on.”
“Softball bat…?” whispered Eunjae.
Joey urged him to go inside, waving to Leila from the doorway. “See you at the wedding!”
“Disregard,” Denny said right away. “That’s invite-only.”
It didn’t take long to fetch the requested softball bat.
Leila was still there, perhaps somewhat stunned in the aftermath.
But it was also true that some people just couldn’t take a hint, no matter how warmly you sent them on their way.
Jiyeon left her there. She didn’t want to ask about Vivian anymore. Best to leave Leila out of it.
By some fluke, Apollo hadn’t obliterated the lunch buffet. She ate as fast as she could, and then it was time to take care of the front door.
Half of the decorative panels were still intact.
The rest were in pieces, reduced to jagged remnants.
It made the door look like a mouth studded with broken teeth.
Jiyeon had arranged for a temporary solution until they could have the stained glass made to order.
They'd decided to knock out the shattered parts, leaving a clean slate for repairs.
“We’ll do four new panels,” Jiyeon explained to their friends from the podcast. “Mr. Rivera said he can save the originals and frame them for us. I think it'll look great.”
Of course, they wanted to know if the family would try to recreate the old design. She replied that something different had been chosen.
“A circus tent,” said Denny, “with eight clowns riding unicycles. Battle dress. Berets, sequins, leather pants. The works.”
“Hot clowns. I’ll pose for it, Chief. Three easy payments of $3,999.”
“Aww, it’ll be so pretty! I can’t wait to see it!”
“Add some words. ‘The sun is always shining.’ You fucking loved that one.”
The parking lot rang with laughter. As more suggestions poured in, Denny hefted the softball bat, testing the weight and balance.
He peered through the haphazard gaps and checked on the tarp that he'd spread on the dining room floor.
Most people would find his thoughts inscrutable in that moment, but Jiyeon read her brother like a book.
She pried the bat out of his hand. Patting Denny on the arm, she said, “I'll go first.”
It didn't take much force to knock her section out of the door. The pieces landed on the other side with an almost musical chime. We’ll fix you up, she promised in her head. It’ll be okay.
Denny's turn again, for real this time. Spectators called out encouragement. Jeannie reprimanded the uncles who’d brought out an air horn, citing insubordination.
And when their manager still couldn’t bring himself to strike, brothers peeled away from the crowd.
Brothers were suddenly all around him. They clapped Denny on the shoulder, clung to his arm so he couldn't swing the bat even if he wanted to.
All their different names for him rang out in the brisk November air: Captain, Boss, Chief.
Eunjae left Jiyeon’s side to join them. “You’ve got it, Denny,” he said.
As others echoed this phrase, Denny lifted the bat at last. He smashed what was left of the fourth panel to a deafening round of cheering and applause.
Jiyeon hung back while everyone else streamed forward, wanting to commit the scene to memory.
This was her dream unfolding in vivid color.
This was a gathering place, a second home.
She’d helped to build it, before. She would build it again.