Chapter 7
There’s a Korean expression my grandfather used that encapsulated the way I felt hearing Mrs. Yun’s words.
Literally, it means you’re oppressed by a heavy, hot weight on your chest. Dapdaphae.
My mother said it more often than anyone else in my family.
I felt that now. What if Channing heard the Yuns talking about her this way?
And Ames didn’t sound like a friend. Channing had never mentioned her to me.
I excused myself and went inside to keep Channing from coming out and hearing this gossip, but I was too late.
I ran into her and Minjae walking out together, challenging each other to gymnastics moves and soccer tricks.
I was relieved to see them pass right by the table, oblivious to the group chatting about her.
Curious to see if Paul needed help, I continued into the kitchen.
He still had a couple of pots to wash, so I offered to dry them.
Through the kitchen window, I saw Minjae grab a soccer ball in the yard and start continuously kicking it with his feet so it never landed on the grass.
The children were dazzled. Channing countered with a cartwheel, to which Minjae clapped his hands and encouraged Edison and Austin to try.
Then he and Channing timed cartwheels so they were synchronized and collapsed into each other at the last second, causing all of them to roll over in laughter.
“Impressive,” I said to Paul.
“Minjae can still do those, damn,” he said, shaking his head.
We watched them help each other up. “I can’t,” I said, and Paul shook his head. “Don’t look at me.”
It was getting late. Alice and Jesse walked through with the baby and said their farewells. Mrs. Yun came into the kitchen and thanked me and Paul for cleaning up. Ames stuck her head into the kitchen to say she was leaving, too.
I’d dried the last lid of a pot when Paul said, “Oh, here comes Kent.” Out on the terrace, a man was talking with Mr. Yun and my grandfather.
He looked like any other Korean man who dressed well.
He wore a formal dark suit, white shirt, and tie.
He bowed deeply in my grandfather’s direction before straightening his posture again. I hurried out to the yard.
Channing and Minjae were now standing beside the door to the kitchen, in animated conversation.
The children sat at the table near Mr. Yun, who was spooning chocolate ice cream into bowls.
There were slices of watermelon and peaches on the table, as well.
Apparently, the meal wasn’t completely over despite some people leaving.
This was true of Korean visits I’d experienced.
There was always more food if you stayed.
Kent positioned himself beside Mr. Yun. He was turned in his chair so his body was facing Channing and Minjae.
Mr. Yun was extolling Kent’s work; how much he had done for East End and how proud the Korean families were of him.
Up close, Kent had chapped lips and a crease in his forehead.
A gold watch on his wrist shone bright. Clearly, he was older than us, but I didn’t know by how much.
I rubbed my forehead to smooth any lines.
I noticed that Paul’s lips were dry, too.
Maybe all our lips were dry. It was summer after all. I made a note to buy more lip balm.
With his mouth slightly agape, Kent reminded me of a student in my class who had terrible allergies and perpetually breathed through his mouth since his nose was congested.
Otherwise, he was nearly as handsome as Minjae.
Nearly because when he talked, he became less handsome somehow.
I didn’t understand it. He had a way of hanging his head as if he was looking straight down at his belly or his feet.
His chin to his chest. Then he’d look up again.
In contrast, Minjae laughed and gestured with his hands, comfortable in his body in a way Kent clearly was not.
I tried to listen to Kent’s conversation with Mr. Yun and my grandfather.
He seemed perfectly polite in contrast to Channing’s comments about him on the phone with me.
Maybe there were different rules here in East End for friends and family that Channing and I didn’t understand.
My parents never rang the doorbell before entering Channing’s house. The door was always unlocked.
“It’s truly an honor to meet you, Seonsengnim,” Kent said to Harabeoji. “I don’t know if you know this, but I saw you and Channing last year in Boston.” Kent was using the respectful honorific that loosely translated to “esteemed teacher.”
On the surface, Kent’s words shouldn’t have bothered me, but beneath them I heard a tone of desperation. He wanted to impress my grandfather.
“I apologize, where did we meet?” Harabeoji asked.
“Oh, I met you formally years ago. I’ve been a close friend of Channing’s family since she was a child. My parents were best friends with her parents, actually.”
My grandfather looked politely interested and moved a plate of peaches toward him.
Kent continued. “I worked with your son. My first job. An internship before Channing’s mother passed away.
Anyway, like everyone in town, we felt awful when you moved out of town.
Then recently I was in Boston, and there you were.
I was across the street, and you and Channing were walking out of Mass General.
You and Channing looked as if you were devastated.
I wanted to help any way I could, but the light changed and I missed my chance to speak to you. ”
My grandfather nodded, encouraging him to continue. I imagined Kent standing at a distance as my grandfather and cousin exited the massive building of white granite, glass, and steel. I’d been there myself to visit my uncle.
Kent said, “It was last summer. Were you there for yourself or Channing or maybe perhaps Channing’s father? I heard he’s been struggling with alcohol use disorder.”
I watched Mr. Yun’s expression change. He looked from my grandfather to Kent and then put the cardboard cover on the container of ice cream.
The previous June my uncle had undergone treatment for his kidneys, on top of chronic liver issues.
Even chatty Mr. Yun knew that Kent was divulging too much information in this setting.
“We’re all friends here,” Harabeoji said to Mr. Yun as if ease his discomfort. And then he added, “Albert is doing better now.”
Kent said, “I’m so glad, because that kind of disease takes years to overcome.
I wanted to help and looked for a way to give something back to you.
” He explained that when the Ahns were looking for someone to take care of their children, he had suggested Channing.
“If this month works out, they could hire her for the rest of the year. From there maybe I could do even more for her. She belongs here in East End.”
“That’s true. Kent told me about the job and told me to call you,” Mr. Yun said to Harabeoji. I thought my grandfather would express gratitude. Instead, he pushed his chair from the table and leaned back as Kent leaned forward. Harabeoji was silent.
With huffs of breath coming from his mouth, Kent said, “I feel so bad for Channing.”
Mrs. Yun was back with a small dessert fork and Paul was with her, wiping his hands on his pants. Paul said, “Hey, what’s up?” to Kent, and went to join Channing and Minjae. Kent watched him leave with a wistful expression on his face.
“How did you know we’d be here tonight?” Harabeoji said to Kent.
“Channing told me you’d be staying with the Yuns,” he said, smiling.
“We’ve been getting to know each other. You know, this job is good practice for her.
I’m sure she’ll want to get married and have children some day, and I feel I’ve come to a period in my life when I’m considering all my options.
” Kent speared a slice of peach with a single tine of his fork.
My grandfather gave his silent laugh before his small chuckle. “Channing is unique. I’m sure there are many women who would be happy to share your life with you.”
“Any woman would be lucky to be your wife,” Mr. Yun said. “East End needs a wedding. We haven’t had one in the Korean families in a while.”
We should have left. I slapped at a few mosquitoes on my legs.
“Well, I’d like to,” Kent said. “Channing would make a beautiful bride.”
“These days, young people decide their own life. Not easy,” Harabeoji said. I heard a gentle sympathy in his tone.
Austin had finished his ice cream by now and tugged at my arm, asking to use the bathroom.
Mrs. Yun got up and led him inside. I took that as the cue to prepare to leave.
Harabeoji nodded at me, pushed back his chair, and stood up.
Kent said, “Already? But I didn’t get to ask your permission to marry Channing. ”
I looked over at my cousin who was intently talking to Minjae and Paul. Kent had dreamt up a fantasy about her.
“It’s late for the children, and Dahee drove a long way,” Harabeoji said as if he hadn’t heard Kent’s words.
By now, Kent had walked around and was at my grandfather’s side, moving chairs out of his path. Harabeoji frowned at his actions. I knew he didn’t like people to think he was frail and dependent on them.
“Then how about dinner tomorrow night? I’ll take you and Channing to the best restaurant in East End and continue this conversation,” Kent said.
Something changed in Harabeoji’s assessment of this man just then. I saw it, like a switch turned on. Caution in his eyes. Harabeoji said, “I think tomorrow is too soon, and you’re a busy man, I hear.”
Kent said he found it rewarding to help people.
“All right, good night then,” I said to be polite to whomever was in hearing range.
That was the moment Kent seemed to see my existence as valuable. I felt appraised in his gaze, measured and studied as if he was trying to categorize me. I regretted my words immediately. He gave me a broad smile. “You must be the cousin,” he said.
“Yup, that’s me.” I hoped I sounded casual and relaxed, though I felt unnerved by his stare. At my job, we had an old Xerox machine with a light that slid across an open book you laid across the glass to copy its pages. His eyes reminded me of that light, scanning me head to toe.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Dahee. I respect educators. I know we’re going to be good friends.” And then he walked off toward Channing.
Harabeoji was nearby. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep. You drove well today, Dahee,” he said, and patted my shoulder.
“He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, was he?” I said, looking in Kent’s direction. Harabeoji said not to worry, adding, “It’s not up to him.”
As we headed for the car, I saw Kent in front of me.
He walked in a peculiar way behind Channing as the whole group meandered toward the driveway, his chin tucked down, as he examined the ground right at his feet as he walked along.
There was a flash of movement, and I turned my head to see Edison run past me and go straight toward Kent and tap him on the arm, and without looking down, Kent swatted the child’s hand away, as if he were an insect.
Harabeoji frowned. He’d seen it, too. Edison stopped short.
I caught up to him and said, “That was excellent jumping and cartwheeling. Let’s get home and you can show me what good books you have. ”
“We don’t read books, that’s for babies,” he said.
“What? I bet your teacher doesn’t think that,” I replied. “Let’s speed walk to the car.”
Austin had come out of the house now with Mrs. Yun.
Ahead of us, Kent and Minjae flanked Channing’s sides.
She was closer to Minjae, but Kent kept raising his arm as if to loop it over her shoulder and pull her away from the other man.
He seemed to lose his nerve and dropped his arm as Channing leaned away. Up and down, Kent’s arm rose and fell.
Paul walked on the other side of Minjae and was entertaining all of them with some story about a friend of his.
Channing’s laughter drifted in the air. Since Harabeoji planned to stay at the Yuns’ for the duration of the visit, we handed over Harabeoji’s bag to him and waved goodbye.
As Channing backed out of the driveway, Kent got into his car, too.
His silver car was parked by the curb. It followed us for many blocks.