Chapter 16
I thought my strategy had worked. But maybe it’s all about timing. The obsession ran deeper than we knew. I called Harabeoji after Kent left and told him about my conversation.
“Lying is never a good thing,” he replied, but now that I’d said it, he agreed we should stick to it.
We decided to leave late on Monday or possibly even Tuesday if Kent continued to harass Channing.
Harabeoji planned to attend the early morning meeting at Mrs. Ku’s bakery with Mr. Yun the next day.
It was where the community met for coffee every Monday, he said.
He’d be sure to tell all of them that Channing was not romantically interested in Kent.
“The group is mostly old friends. They influence what happens in the Korean community. They’ll know what to do,” he assured me.
Maybe these old men and women might dissuade Kent given enough time. Or maybe I didn’t know how obsessions worked. What happened next was a series of events that tumbled into each other. We should have had a better plan. I fell asleep before Channing returned from her outing with Minjae.
The next day Channing had cramps. Her period exacted more pain from her body than mine did. That had always been the case, but I felt guilty for having lied about her health to Kent now and didn’t tell her about it. If the fates enjoyed irony, I silently begged them not to play with it now.
I offered to take the boys to day camp in her stead.
She thanked me with clear instructions on where to go and what to pack for them.
Edison and Austin were helpful in directing me.
Along with signs for camp drop-off everywhere, it was easy.
When I returned to the house, I was surprised to see Channing and Minjae talking in the kitchen as if it was still the weekend.
It was Monday and not a holiday Monday either; just a regular old Monday in mid-August, and didn’t he have a job?
And what about Channing’s cramps? She actually didn’t look all that well, but she had tea in front of her on the table.
“Minjae helped me take the garbage to the curb just in time for the truck,” Channing said to me.
I thanked him. I’d forgotten to roll the bins out last night, not that it was my job to remember, but I was surprised how completely I’d forgotten about it. Minjae smiled at me and said, “Not a problem.”
Channing continued, “So we were talking about how the Asian market used to be in town, but it moved. Minjae’s been to the new location.”
“The only Asian businesses now are Mrs. Ku’s bakery and a couple of restaurants,” Minjae said.
“Look.” Channing spread small packets of ginseng tea that had been in a pile. “He brought these from his own supply for me for my cramps.”
“My mother says it keeps you from getting colds,” he said.
Channing smiled at him and then said, “Thank you for giving me yours. Shouldn’t you hold on to some for yourself?”
“I’ll get more. It’s in Little Brookton now, forty-five minutes to get out there—a nice drive,” Minjae said.
“That place brings up so many memories. I loved Little Brookton. We used to go when I was a kid,” she said to him.
“A lighthouse all the way out on the end,” he replied, and they smiled at each other again.
“Such a cute harbor.”
People in love could be so boring.
“That’s good, but you should lie down so you can pick up the kids later,” I said. “You know Harabeoji and I are leaving tomorrow.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t go today then?” Minjae said, and reached for her hand. She opened her palm and laced his fingers through her own.
“More reason for us to go today. I don’t want to take all your supply,” she said to him. “Let me grab a sweater and we could go?” She stood up. She looked at me and said, “You could come if you want, we can take the SUV.”
I shook my head. “You two go without me,” I said. I didn’t want to listen to their sugary conversation all morning.
When she left the kitchen, I told Minjae I wanted to talk with him again. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He looked at me over the tops of his eyes. “Sure, let’s do it,” he replied.
“Why aren’t you working today?” I asked.
He straightened his posture and tilted his head at me. “I know it looks like I don’t have a job, but I do. A lot of what I do is research online, so I make my own hours.”
“What do you do exactly?” I asked. I knew I sounded harsh.
“I basically analyze data for projects in the area.”
“So you do what Channing does,” I said.
At the sound of her name, clear joy spread across his face. He grinned as he said, “Similar enough, but the majority of my work is different.”
Normally, I wouldn’t have attempted to understand, but this time it was important. What was the status of his job? Did he make money?
“For who? Who do you study the data for?”
“East End Land Trust and a few others that work with the town,” he replied.
“How involved is Kent in those projects?” I asked, and saw the implication dawn on his face.
“Kent can’t fire me. I don’t work for him, though he wants everyone to think he’s making all the deals. He’s not. But yeah, I know him. The first time I met him we were kids; he was way older and wanted to play with us instead of the teenagers his age. That was weird.”
A new worry popped into my mind. “Are you saying he was fixated on younger kids?”
He looked startled and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. More like he wanted to be our leader. But we didn’t let him.
He thought he could beat us at video games or football, which he should have, he was so much bigger than us.
But Channing was better than him, better than all of us.
At everything. She crushed me in chess.” His face brightened as he said her name.
I let out a sigh of relief. “I remember a lot of kids in Channing’s room playing video games,” I said.
“Yeah, Ames and Byeol, Seoyun, Gillian—” Minjae gazed off into the distance.
“I bet you were in love with all the girls,” I said, looking around for my cousin. I expected her to return anytime now.
Minjae let out a laugh. “Me? Back then? Chased a girl once and didn’t know what to do when I got her.”
“What’s special about Channing then?” I asked.
He lowered his chin and looked shyly at me. “Everything.”
“You met her when you were kids, so why not stay in touch if she meant so much to you?”
“Fair.” He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. Then he added, “She was gone by the time I visited East End again in college.”
“Oh, so out of sight, out of mind for you then?” I said, only partially joking.
He laughed and shrugged. “Paul told me Channing was in Boston. I should have looked her up, but life rolls on, you know? She was a memory from childhood. Too perfect, not real, the kind of girl you dream up. Who could have done all the things she was able to do? Also, honestly, why would she be interested in me?”
He paused and I waited in silence. “I’ll say this for Kent,” he continued. “He brought Channing back to East End. And now I get to know her, and she’s even more surprising and funny and great at everything than I ever thought she could be.”
Channing came in just then, and Minjae got to his feet.
I stood, too, snapping myself out of the reverie I’d entered through Minjae’s words. “Before camp ends, you have to pick them up,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, for sure, I promise. Thanks, Dahee,” she said over her shoulder as they headed for the door.
After Channing and Minjae left, I decided I needed a really good coffee. Middle Street had some cafés. It was my first time out without my cousin or grandfather in East End. It felt exhilarating to have the morning and early afternoon free to myself in a town that I’d always admired.
In New York, you can go places by yourself—see a movie, dine out—and it’s not awkward at all.
There were lots of people who did just that, went by themselves.
In my twenties, there were more people to spend time with.
Now it seemed that everyone was paired off in marriages or long-term relationships.
It was summer, and I knew tourists would pack the main streets. Tables were set out on the sidewalk in front of cafés. People walked dogs along the avenue. Usually in New York, I preferred hiding inside in a corner, but today I wanted to soak in the sun.
Once the school year began, my colleagues would ask about my summer, and I’d like to show them photos of East End.
Whenever I mentioned the town, people would be surprised.
Even those who visited this area regularly.
“Where exactly?” they’d say, and I’d describe it to them.
“Off which exit on ninety-five?” they’d ask, and I’d tell them the route I took.
They were intrigued, especially when I told them about the Korean restaurants.
Now that I learned the Asian market had moved to Little Brookton, I wondered what else might have changed in this area since I was a child.