4. Fourteen Years Ago – Christian
FOUR
FOURTEEN YEARS AGO – CHRISTIAN
“I kind of like it up here.” The wind blew through my hair with calm, steady balance. Dad sat next to me with his legs dangling off the roof. He was a kindred spirit. Someone who always knew what to do when times were rough. Right now, he looked every bit the thirty-six he was.
He turned his head back to me and the stubble on his cheek pronouncedly stuck out like sharp splinters. For a moment, I thought he’d get mad. But Dad never got mad. He was calm, gentle, and patient. Someone to rely on. Someone easily lovable. I trusted him even when he got mad at me.
“I like it up here when I’m with you. But if your Eomma finds out we’re here right now, she’ll get all red-faced.” Dad blew air into his cheeks, trying to redden his face. He looked like a dumb-faced monkey which made me laugh.
He had the expression down though. Eomma would be furious if she caught us up here again. My Mom was the sweetest woman alive, but she was also the scariest. If I could prevent being the target of her anger, I would.
While Eomma was fully South Korean, Dad was from Switzerland. But I got most of the mom genes and barely any dad ones.
Quiet took over us after the sudden whiff of laughter. Both of us stared down at the driveway. Waiting.
“Do you think it’s a boy?” I asked curiously, scooting over towards him.
Dad threw an arm over my shoulder and shook his head. “It’s a girl, two years younger than you.”
I threw my head back with a groan. “ She’s eleven? Man, here I thought I was getting a best friend.”
Dad laughed at that and gently ruffled my hair. “She might become your new best friend, who knows?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and I groaned again.
“Ugh Dad, gross.”
“What?” He used his other hand to push my glasses up my nose. “She really could become your best friend.” The smile on his face disappeared in all seriousness when he said, “I want you to be nice to her. She’s had a rough time.”
Curiosity warped around me in a slithering sensation. “What happened?” When Eomma told me Eda would be bringing home a guest around my age, I was shocked. At first, like every normal teenager, I assumed Eda must have been lonely and adopted someone. I found it weird she never got married, but whatever. It was her choice. Eventually, I found out Eda was an aunt from eavesdropping on my parent's conversation. When I tried asking why they were moving in with Eda, the look on my parents' faces told me it was tragic and that was enough for me to let it go.
Did I still hope it would be a boy my age? Yep.
Girls around my age were weird. They had crushes, got their periods ( Eomma told me about this, and I wish I could forget), and acted like they were the shit (Dad would kill me if he heard me say that).
“Dad,” I said with a respected sigh. “I’m not gonna be mean to her.”
“I know you, son. You won’t,” he ran a hand through his hair. “But I want you to hang out with her. Take her around with you and make sure she doesn’t keep herself locked up in her room or stays alone at school.”
They were really worried about this girl.
“Alright.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “Thank you.”
Just then, a car pulled up to the driveway next door. I saw Eda’s long black hair shined as the morning sun slowly rose to the sky. Dad and I stayed silent as we watched her get out of the car. Heels clacked on the cement ground and lifted her black sunglasses to the top of her head.
Eomma walked out towards Eda and hugged her.
Eda stayed still and waited out the one-sided hug.
It was awkward to watch.
The door of the backseat opened and what I saw first stole all the capacity to breathe from my lungs.
There was only one way to describe what I saw. The sun was a reflection of her brightness.
She stepped out of the car with a stuffed bunny and a tiny notebook in her hand. A hair clip tied back one side of her hair and she smiled a wide smile at my mother. With fumbling hands, she opened her notebook and read the words with pursed lips before bowing down at my mother.
I could hear the faint words of her introducing herself in Korean.
My heart rammed against my ribcage.
No one had ever done that before.
It was a Korean custom to bow with respect when introducing yourself or greeting another. The lower you bowed down from the waist, the more respect you had for that person. This girl bowed a full ninety degrees to Eomma .
My throat felt tight and itchy.
Eomma laughed softly and brought the girl for a tight hug.
The girl dropped her stuff to return the hug tenfold.
It was astonishing to watch from the roof—magical, indescribable even.
Whatever she went through didn’t show on her face, she hid it well.
My eyes flung over to my dad, who was watching with an expressionless face. He didn’t do that often, but maybe he was as shocked as I was.
When Eomma released her and walked to grab luggage out of the car, the girl’s eyes shifted towards the roof where Dad and I were sitting.
The girl smiled wide and enthusiastically waved at us. Dad chuckled and waved back, but I stared like an idiot.
We looked at each other for eight full seconds.
“Gross, huh ?” Dad teased as he snuck back inside through the window.
My cheeks grew hot. Maybe not that gross.
A shiver went up my spine at the speed of cold wind flying through the air. When I turned around one last time to glance at the girl, all I saw was Eda staring up at the spot previously occupied by Dad.