Epilogue
MINJI
Two Years Later
“We’re going to be late,” I call out, checking my watch for the third time in two minutes.
Aaron appears in the doorway of our bedroom, still buttoning his shirt. “Relax, Honeybee. Your mother won’t disown you for being five minutes late to dinner.”
“You don’t know that,” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling when I see him. After three years together, he still makes my heart skip a beat every time he walks in. It feels silly and not at all professional, but I’ve gotten used to it.
“She adores me.” He adjusts his cuffs with that confident grin. “I bring her kimchi and gossip about American celebrities. I’m the son-in-law jackpot.”
I roll my eyes but hearing him say ‘son-in-law’ still gives me a happy shiver. We’ve been married for eighteen months, and sometimes I wake up surprised to see his ring on my finger, matching his.
“She only tolerates you because you got me to fly back home frequently,” I remind him, smoothing down the front of my dress. “And because you’re learning Korean.”
“? ??? ??? ? ?? ??? (I’m getting better at speaking Korean, aren’t I?),” he smiles proudly. His accent is still bad, but it’s getting better.
“Your pronunciation is getting better,” I admit, reaching up to fix his collar. “But let’s not test my mother’s patience tonight. This dinner is important.”
Aaron wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. “I know it is. That’s why I made sure to iron this shirt twice.”
I laugh, pressing my forehead against his chest for a moment. “My hero.”
The truth is that tonight’s dinner isn’t just any regular dinner with my mom when we come to Korea. Tonight, we’re telling her our news. I’m still processing it myself.
“Ready?” Aaron asks, his voice gentle. He knows I’m nervous, and he can probably feel the tension in my shoulders.
I nod, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
As we ride the elevator down to the garage, I think about how much has changed since I left Parras.
Lee the gesture he knows pleases her.
“?????, ??, (Hello, Mom),” he says and I catch the flash of pride in my mother’s eyes.
She’s grown to love him in ways I never expected; their relationship is built on a foundation of mutual respect and Aaron’s genuine desire to understand my heritage.
“We brought wine.” I hand her the bottle we picked up from that little shop she loves.
“And these,” Aaron adds, presenting a beautifully wrapped box of her favorite chocolates from the fancy department store downtown.
My mother beams and ushers us inside. Her apartment is just as it always is—spotless, filled with family photos (now including several of Aaron and me on our wedding day), and smelling like home in a way my New York apartment never does.
“Sit, sit,” she insists, gesturing to the table already set with her best dishes. “Everything is ready. Your stepfather had to go back to Busan so he wasn’t able to be here, but he wants you to know he is very upset he missed you.”
“It’s okay, Aaron and I will be here for another week or so.” I take a seat.
We settle in as she brings out dish after dish—more food than three people could ever eat, but that’s how my mother shows love. I notice she’s made all my childhood favorites, as if she somehow knew this dinner was special.
“How is the firm?” she asks as we begin eating, passing dishes around with practiced efficiency.
“Busy,” I reply, taking a small portion of everything to be polite, though my body is craving the spicy tofu soup in particular. “We just hired two new associates last month.”
“And your book?” she asks Aaron, who is happily loading his plate with kimchi.
“The final edits are done.” He smiles, pride evident in his voice. “It comes out in spring.”
My mother nods approvingly. “I tell all my friends my son-in-law is a famous writer and has them turned into movies.” She brags with such smug satisfaction that I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
We talk easily as we eat, catching up on family news and neighborhood gossip. I’m waiting for the right moment to share our news. Under the table, Aaron’s knee presses against mine, a small gesture of support.
“So,” Mom begins, setting down her chopsticks and giving us that look I’ve known since childhood—the one that means she knows something is up. “What is the special occasion for this visit? You two never just show up out of the blue. Which means you two have something to tell me, yes?”
I nearly choke on my water. Even across oceans, my mother’s intuition remains razor-sharp. Aaron squeezes my hand under the table as I clear my throat.
“We do, actually.” I meet her gaze. My heart hammers against my ribs. “Mom, we’re… I’m pregnant.”
For a moment, she sits perfectly still, her expression unreadable. Then her eyes fill with tears, and she covers her mouth with both hands.
“Oh my!” she exclaims, jumping up from her chair so quickly it nearly topples backward. Before I can stand, she’s rushing around the table, pulling me into a fierce hug that smells of home and comfort. “My baby is having a baby!”
Relief washes over me as she rocks me back and forth, murmuring Korean endearments into my hair. When she finally pulls away, her cheeks are wet with tears, but she’s smiling so widely I think her face might split.
“How long?” she demands, one hand still gripping my arm while the other reaches for Aaron, drawing him into our circle.
“About twelve weeks,” I tell her. “We wanted to wait until the first trimester was over before we shared the news.”
“I knew it!” she declares triumphantly. “Mother always knows. You look different—glowing!” She turns to Aaron, patting his cheek affectionately. “You will be a wonderful father.”
“Thank you.” Aaron beams. “We’re excited. Nervous, but excited.”
“Nervous? Why are you nervous?” Mom scoffs, waving away our concerns as she hurries to the kitchen. “Being a parent is easy. You feed, you love, you scold sometimes. Simple!”
I laugh, feeling the tension melt from my shoulders. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple, Mom.”