Chapter Eight #6
“I... Thank you. I appreciate...” His eyes narrowed to slits. “What is this? Why are you being so agreeable?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I twisted away, turning back to the food. “We said we’d do our best to live in harmony during Omma’s final days, so that’s what I’m doing.” I peeked at him through my lashes. “Do you want me to fuss, fight, and argue with you?”
“No, but...” He glanced at Lily. “No, I don’t want to fight. Harmony sounds nice for once.”
“Good.” I clapped, making him jump like I was about to attack.
“Then, stop standing around and help. I’m making the bulgogi and the cucumber salad.
You’re on rice and drinks,” I said. “I was in the mood for some strawberry-ade, so I got all the ingredients. If you don’t know how to make ade, the recipe is right here.
” I plucked the sheet off the counter and held it out to him.
Alex took it from me with two pinched fingers—as though it was used tissue paper and not the recipe to deliciousness.
“I’m making enough for everyone, so make sure you do too,” I told him. “Tonight, we’re having a family dinner.”
Alex slowly moved to the fridge. Opening the door, he glared at the suddenly full shelves like they personally offended him. A sideways step and he was glaring into the pantry.
“Nariboo,” I sang. “Is all of your homework done?”
She shook her head.
“Go finish it in the dining room—”
“Bring your homework into the dining room,” Alex sliced in. “Daddy will be right here if you need help.”
“Okay!” Hopping off the counter, Nari was out and up the back stairs like a bolt.
I watched her go with a smile. “She is just the cutest—”
“I changed my mind.” Alex slammed the pantry door. “I want to fight with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he hissed, bearing down on me so fast, my grip tightened on the knife hilt automatically.
“What the hell game are you playing, Sue? What is this domestic goddess routine, and who are you performing it for!” His head whipped this way and that.
“You got secret cameras set up in here, or something? Is this the next chapter of your failing business? SueHomemaker?”
“What— I— I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I tossed the knife down. “There aren’t any cameras, and I’m not playing any games! How many times do I have to tell you that I just don’t want to fight anymore!” I screamed that last sentence pretty loud for someone who didn’t want this fight.
“Because this”—he gestured around the kitchen—“isn’t what you do when you don’t want to fight.
When you don’t want to fight over the latest, twisted, shitty thing you did, you just withdraw into a sulky lump of wounded pride and victimhood—withholding even the slightest glance in our direction until we give in and apologize to you for what you did. ”
Yeah, that sounded like standard Soo Min protocol.
“What you don’t do,” he flung, “is buy groceries, cook family dinners, and get on Lily about her homework. You didn’t even do this shit during the good times in our marriage—all two weeks of it.”
“What if I know that, Alex? What if that’s the fucking reason I’m trying to do things differently now?”
“Why in the fuck would now be any different!”
“Because I almost died!” I screamed, blowing him back. “Because I woke up in the dirt and the dark with a bleeding head and a phone that didn’t have one single message from anyone I loved asking if I’m okay, where I was, or if I needed help.
“Not one, Alex!” Tears sprung to my eyes. “Do you know what that’s like? To wake up on the worst morning of your life, completely lost in every way, and discover that no one was looking for you.
“Maybe I want to change because I realized I’ve lived a life that no one cares about. That no one... would miss.”
Alex’s shoulders drew down. Dropping his head, the haggard lines on his face disappeared behind his big, calloused hand. “Sue...”
“I want to start over with all of you. You, Micah, Rhodes, Omma, and Lily. No bullshit,” I whispered, cutting the air. “No tricks. No games. This is a real and honest fresh start. But if you can’t let it be,” I said, raising his head. “Then, let me know now and I’ll go.”
“You’ll... go,” he said slowly. “Just like that.”
“Yeah, just like that. I’ll move into a hotel and visit Omma while the guys are at work, Lily is at school, and you’re out... doing whatever it is you do.”
He flared up quick. “I’m out applying to med schools—as it happens. I don’t just sit around all day, Sue. I’m moving forward with my life.”
“Hmm. You mean, like I’m trying to do?”
He clamped his jaw shut, jewel eyes glittering with emotions—but none of them that I could read.
“What will it be?” I asked. “Can I go one day without you accusing my pan of sauteed beef of being evidence of a nefarious plot? Or not?”
Alex stared at me for a long time. So long, the warming oil on the stove hit smoke-point—filling the air and stinging my eyes.
And then he stood there even longer, watching me as Lily came trotting through the kitchen and into the dining room.
“Al—”
He turned away and left—walking out the door with the shock left on my hanging lips.
Closing my mouth, I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. Don’t make an offer if you don’t want the outcome, Sarah. You learned that lesson hard.
There wasn’t anything to do about it. I told him I’d leave if it meant Lily didn’t have to live in a home full of shouting and resentment for another minute, and I meant it. Time to go.
Taking off my apron, I turned off the stove and—
“—will be right in here,” Alex called over his shoulder. “Shout if you need help.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Alex took the spare apron off the hook under my huge eyes. “So what’s this strawberry-ade stuff?” he threw in my general direction. “Is it just lemonade but strawberries?”
“Uhh... it’s... it’s a little different?” I confessed, slowly approaching. “More like a sweet fruit syrup mixed with sparkling water.”
He hummed. “Doesn’t sound too bad,” he replied, bending over the recipe. “But you know Rhodes doesn’t do sugar when he’s training, so he’ll only want the sparkling water.”
I picked up my slotted spoon like he might reach over and snatch it from me at any second. “I got some extra bottles of sparkling water for that reason.”
Alex tipped a nod. “Did you also print out the other recipe?”
“The other recipe for what?”
He was really not looking at me then. “The recipe for... how to make rice.”
I snorted.
“Don’t you fucking start.”
“Don’t start on what, rich boy.” The snort became a full-blown laugh.
“On how you need directions for boiling water? Or is it the part where you throw in the rice and turn the stove off after fifteen minutes that stumps you? Aww.” I pouted.
“Counting to fifteen is so hward, but baby Alex can do it if he weally tries.”
“You know, my name isn’t on your marriage license.” He snapped his apron putting it on. I could’ve been imagining it, but I thought I heard amusement in his voice. “I don’t have to put up with this shit. I can just walk out the door.”
“Sure, if you can find it.” I patted his shoulder, oozing sympathy. “Do you need directions to that too?”
Alex made a sound—moving away and out of my reach. “Fuck you twice,” he replied, but I didn’t imagine that time.
That sound... was a laugh.