Chapter 12
The next morning, Channing seemed dejected, but she wouldn’t tell me why. All she kept saying was how Harabeoji and I were going to leave soon. I told her I wasn’t in a rush to return to New York. We could stay one more day at the very least. This seemed to raise her spirits.
“Have you heard from Minjae?” I asked. The boys had eaten breakfast and run to the living room to play video games. Channing had her laptop open on the kitchen table. The screen showed a woman and a man chasing each other around a field before falling into each other’s arms.
“We should go somewhere fun with the kids today,” I said.
“It’s going to rain,” she replied with her eyes on the K-drama.
The forecast on my phone said no such thing. Through the windows of the house the sky was a clear robin’s egg blue.
I called Harabeoji and passed the phone to Channing, and in seconds he had her agreeing to go to the beach for the whole day. When we told the children, Edison said he hated the sand. Austin said he loved it. They started arguing.
“We’ll go somewhere you both like,” Channing said. I didn’t know how we’d accomplish that, but maybe we’d figure it out as we went along. That was Channing’s style—in the moment, impromptu. We called Harabeoji and told him we were on our way.
When the doorbell rang, I was astonished. Had he been dropped off here by the Yuns? Was it Kent again? I needn’t have worried. My cousin smiled before she launched out of her chair and sprinted down the hall. The rational part of me told myself to be cautious.
From the sound of her voice and a man’s greeting, I wondered if she knew Minjae was coming, though when I asked her afterward, she swore she didn’t give him her phone number the night of the Yuns’ cookout.
When I walked out to the hallway, the front door was wide open. I went to see how our plans were going to change. Channing and Minjae were sitting on the top step, looking at the street, their shoulders touching. He spoke quietly, leaning into her, and she had her head tilted toward him.
I said hello and he turned his head, squinted his eyes at me, and said, “Hi, Dahee. It’s such a great day. The sky is the bluest I’ve ever seen. Have you ever seen a sky like this?” And then he pointed to some wisps of clouds in the distance to prove his point.
“I don’t know, is it?” Channing teased.
He nodded. “Now it is.”
Channing blushed.
“Are you two coming in or what?” I asked.
Channing scrambled to her feet and then told Minjae she wanted to see his car. She took his arm as if to protect him from me and walked him down the driveway.
At the curb, there was a shiny red two-seater convertible. I watched them whisper to each other as they ambled toward it. She had her hand on his arm, and he bent it as if they were strolling to a formal event in another era.
I called to them. “Should we wait for you? Are we going to the beach or not?”
She looked back at me. “We’ll be right there,” she replied.
The boys had come outside now and were on either side of me. Edison said, “Where are they going?”
“Nowhere,” I replied. “Hey, does your car have a third-row seat?”
Austin said it did not. This meant we couldn’t all go together in the SUV if we were bringing Harabeoji.
Behind us in the kitchen, I heard the chime of a ringtone, so I went to look for my phone. Maybe it was Harabeoji asking where we were.
A new text popped up on Channing’s screen. No name, just a number, that’s how I knew it was Kent. The language was rather formal: Enjoyed seeing you last night. Looking forward to spending the day with you like you promised.
Promised? Channing and Minjae were headed back up the driveway. I handed Channing her phone. She saw the text right away and didn’t seem bothered. She tapped on the screen and showed it to me before putting her phone in her pocket. She’d written: Sorry, today doesn’t work but thanks.
I must have cringed, because she said, “Don’t worry.” And then she said to Minjae, “Let’s get out of here.”
“Whatever you want,” he replied.
I liked Minjae’s answer.
“We have a problem,” Channing began. “Edison likes the pool, but Austin likes the beach.”
“How about a place with both?” Minjae suggested. “My beach club?”
“Leeward Beach Club?” she asked. “Is it still there?”
“That’s the one,” he replied.
Channing turned to me and the boys, and we all agreed.
We still had to change and pack up, and Channing surprised me by making a game of it with the children.
First one to the SUV with their swimsuits and towels would get a surprise, she told them, and then she whispered something to Minjae and ran inside and up the stairs.
The boys followed. I had to change, too, but I wanted to take this opportunity to get to know this man my cousin was suddenly charmed by.
He was scrolling through his phone, sitting on the step.
“Anything you want while you’re waiting?” I asked.
He didn’t reply, so I had to repeat myself.
And then he seemed to startle and said, “Are you talking to me?” And I said I was, and he laughed, and I had to admit he had the most charming smile.
He had an elfish chin and reminded me of that K-drama actor whose lips dipped down the way a frown would, except on him it was a smile.
Also, he bent his head in such a way that he looked at you over the tops of his eyes.
Endearing, sincere. Paul, on the other hand, had a solid square face.
“Sorry, I’m not always aware of what’s going on around me. I get caught up. What were you saying?” he asked.
That was just like Channing.
“How much longer are you here, in the States?” I said.
He suddenly looked contemplative. “After this job, Channing is going back to Boston, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Maybe I can extend my visa to work in Boston for a while.” He gave me a grateful smile.
Channing was back in record time. Even before I made it to the landing, she was on her way back down in white shorts and a black one-piece swimsuit edged in gold that still looked new. Black sunglasses were on top of her head.
In minutes we were in our respective cars—I was to pick up Harabeoji in my car while they drove the SUV with the boys—and agreed to rendezvous at the Leeward, East End’s one and only resort.
Channing must have known Kent was on his way despite her text to him not to come.
She had hit the accelerator hard and was nowhere in sight when I reached the intersection to the main street and saw a car turn toward me while I waited to pull out.
I could see Kent’s face through the windshield.
He took the turn a little fast and then sped down Sandpiper Lane in the direction from which I’d come.
Ames, Harabeoji, and Mr. Yun were standing in the driveway when I arrived. They had their heads bent toward Ames’s phone and were talking about an article she was writing on a zoning change in town. Apparently, Ames was a journalist with the East End Courier, the town newspaper.
Harabeoji told Ames we were going to the beach club.
The look on her face changed to curiosity.
She said that a large Boston company tried to develop that area thirty years ago, and the community had put a stop to it.
But then a source had told her that a small group of Korean and local investors had planned to revive it ten years later in 2005, complete with comprehensive environmental studies on how to prevent beach erosion and impact on wildlife.
She asked both grandfathers, “Were you all a part of that?”
Mr. Yun waved her question away with his hand and said Ames should focus on the here and now.
“That time is past. Write about the town park Kent is expanding,” he said, looking extremely irritated. He continued, “You’re not engaged to Kent anymore, so you can write about the park and all he plans to do when he’s park executive director, can’t you?”
“You were engaged to Kent Cho?” my grandfather asked.
I studied her face, which had reddened.
“Hardly dated,” Ames said. She flipped a wrist toward her grandfather. “It was awful, I told you to stop throwing men at me.”
Mr. Yun had a look of distaste in his mouth. “You’re twenty-eight—”
“Thirty, Harabeoji,” she interrupted.
“Even worse. You said you wanted to get married like all your friends.”
My grandfather took the opportunity to say at that moment, “I’m sorry the engagement didn’t work out.”
“Thanks but no thanks,” Ames said. “I’m glad it’s done, he was terrible, and this one”—she motioned again to Mr. Yun—“didn’t help.”
“What was wrong with Kent exactly?” I asked. Maybe she could share information that would be helpful to Channing.
“Everything?” She shrugged.
“How’d you get rid of him?” I persisted.
She replied with a roll of her eyes. “Time, I guess. He’ll persist until the next person comes along and then he’ll chase after her.”
Mr. Yun opened the door to the passenger seat of the car.
“He’s not that bad. Anyone would be proud to have him in the family.
Go write the article about what’s happening today.
If not the park, then what about the renovations downtown?
This was supposed to be about zoning. No one cares what happened years ago.
And I only set you and Kent up on a date because you said you needed a husband. ”
“I don’t need a husband. I said I’d like one,” Ames replied.
Mr. Yun said he had to get going or else he would make Mrs. Yun late for church. As I backed the car out, Ames was still trying to talk to her grandfather. They were joined by another person, who waved at our retreating vehicle.
It was a relief to be in the car again, just me and my grandfather. He seemed to be in a good mood. He rolled down the window and waved toward the trio now in the driveway.
“Is that Paul from last night?” I asked.
He confirmed it was and that Paul lived in an apartment above the garage. “Until he gets into grad school for education—” he began. I told him Minjae had explained Paul’s career change to Channing, who had shared it ad nauseam with me.
Harabeoji said, “Huh,” as if deep in thought.
I told him about the police and Kent coming to the house the previous night and his text this morning. “She clearly doesn’t like him. Why doesn’t he get that?”
“Why someone attaches to someone is a mystery. Mr. Yun says Kent is eager to start a family, so he wants to marry someone Channing’s age.
It might be as simple as that. If we can interest him in someone else, maybe in Boston or Providence, that might be best. When a man decides to get married, he can be very determined. ”
“That’s gross,” I said to Harabeoji. “Why is Mr. Yun helping him? Does he know Kent walks into the house whenever he wants?”
“They think Kent has good intentions. Channing is taking care of children; the more help she has, the better for them.”
“I don’t get it. I bet they wouldn’t want someone just showing up in their kitchen without permission.”
“True. No one does. It’s not a Korean or American custom.”
It was a relief to hear my grandfather’s opinion. I said, “Whatever Mr. Yun can do to get Kent away from Channing would be good.”
“He knows many people. We need to find someone who wants the same as Kent. And we don’t have to do anything. Mr. Yun is on the case. He likes helping people, he’s a real helper. You’re a helper, too, Dahee.”
“I don’t think I want to be,” I said. “You’ve got to know exactly what your help is for.”