12. Chuseok
Chuseok
“Dae, your turn.”
Theo was still damp from his shower when he went downstairs.
Dae, Caleb and Jason were in the kitchen, going about their morning routines as if they all hadn’t been separated for the summer.
Caleb had stayed at the house and worked at a restaurant near campus.
Jason had spent the summer working at a factory gaining muscles that Theo had insisted upon squeezing the moment he saw him.
Dae had worked as a cook at a diner in Hamilton, and at Theo’s insistence, he’d sent him daily pictures of his hairnet, which were deliciously embarrassing.
Theo’s dad had gotten him a job as an admin temp at his company, which paid well, but was so boring it was physically painful.
There were perks, though. Every so often, when his dad remembered he had a son, he’d bring him free lunch.
There were even a few hurried conversations and at least two compliments. Theo was downright spoiled.
He lived at home over the summer, watching old movies with his mom and aunt, attempting to de-clutter the apartment, talking about stupid shit, and experimenting with his hair.
The colour had evolved into a softer pink, more cotton candy than cherry popsicle, and his aunt was insufferably proud of it.
It was comforting to see how fast he and the boys fell back into their rhythms in the first week back.
Caleb was adding new peanut butter to each bite of his toast (he didn’t like it when it melted; in their first year, Theo suggested buying crunchy instead and Caleb launched into a researched lecture), Jason was ripping spinach into a giant omelette, and Dae was putting slices of homemade bread into plastic bags, handing them out like the three of them were trick-or-treaters.
“Yes, there are raisins.” His voice was shockingly firm. “Just trust me.”
“I like raisins,” Caleb said.
Jason huffed. “You would.”
He had let his curls grow over the summer, and the effect was intimidatingly cool. Caleb looked exactly the same, but Dae was different in a way Theo couldn’t identify. His lines were sharper and his features more defined, like he was a drawing someone finally got around to finishing.
“Um, guys.” Dae cleared his throat. “I wanted to, well…my eomma actually… You know how she can be. Anyway, I know it’s short notice, and you really don’t have to come, but, if you’re free and you want to.” He shrugged, and the rest of them exchanged glances.
“Dae,” Theo said as non-sarcastically as he could, “you haven’t actually invited us anywhere.”
“Oh, right. Chuseok. You’re invited to Chuseok this weekend.”
In their second year, Dae had explained to them what Chuseok was: a Korean holiday with lots of food and family to celebrate the harvest. None of them had ever been to his parents' house before, and now he was offering a glimpse into his life and letting them participate in a family tradition. It was huge, and they all felt it.
Jason put down his fork, frowning. “I promised my sister I’d help her move this weekend, but I can get out of it.”
“No.” Dae threw up his hands. “It’s okay, really. It’s short notice.”
Caleb chewed on his lower lip. “I’m meeting Avery’s parents.”
“What?!” Everyone turned on him, their breakfasts forgotten, asking when, where, how.
“They’re in town from Muskoka for the weekend, and Avery figured it was now or never. Dae, I’m sorry. I would’ve really liked to go.”
“No, no.” His head shake was almost violent. “This is more important.”
All three of them slowly turned to Theo, Dae’s expression hesitant, Jason’s commanding, and Caleb’s almost pleading.
Things hadn’t quite settled back into place with their friendship since Dae and Jacinda broke up over the summer.
Neither of them told Theo why it happened.
He’d simply received a text from Dae saying he didn’t want to talk about it, and that was it.
The past year had been a bit strange as Theo had tried to give him space and rely on him less, but they’d adjusted. It was better that way. Safer. But now there wasn’t a Jacinda-shaped reason for that distance anymore.
Which was terrifying.
Still. He wasn’t about to let Dae down now, so he mustered his most genuine smile. “Well, I’m definitely in. There’s no way I’m turning down that much food.”
Dae’s relief floated off him, lifting his shoulders on its way out. “Don’t say that in front of my eomma, or she won’t let you stop eating.”
Cool. Awesome. Just Theo and Dae’s whole family in his childhood home during an important family event. Not way too intimate at all.
No problem.
??? ???
“Here.” Theo handed Dae a twenty dollar bill, which Dae made a face at and didn’t take. They sat near the back of the bus, Theo’s right shoulder pressed against the cool glass of the window. Everyone was quiet, either staring at their phones or at the landscape racing by. “It’s for the ticket.”
“I told you,” Dae said, his voice low, “this whole day is our treat.”
“Your family is about to feed me. They don’t have to pay for me to get there.”
“No, it’s—” He gasped as Theo shoved the bill into his jeans pocket. Pink washed his cheeks. “The ticket was only fifteen.”
“Consider it a tip.”
Toronto was left behind for the suburbs: fewer skyscrapers and more movie theatres and outlet malls interspersed with open fields and neighbourhoods.
“How do I say, ‘It's nice to see you again,’ in Korean?”
“My parents speak English.”
“Dae, just.”
Dae sighed, placating, twisting in his seat towards him ever so slightly. “Dto bangapsimbmnida.”
Impossible. “That’s not real. You're messing with me.”
The tiniest of smiles. “They don't expect you to speak Korean.”
“Say it again.” He did. Theo tried the words. Dae corrected him. Again. And again. Then he chuckled adorably, which was very rude.
“You're nervous.”
“Am not.” He was. This felt too important, too intimate, too against-the-rules, even though Theo still wasn’t sure what the rules were.
But what he did know was that he didn’t belong on this bus getting dirty looks from strangers for talking, his shoulder gently rocking into Dae’s.
He shouldn’t have been able to smell the sweet tea on Dae’s breath when he lowered his voice and leaned in, repeating the words again.
Dae watched Theo’s lips carefully as he practiced, then swallowed hard. Was Theo imagining that?
Dae’s eyes slid up to his, his voice a whisper of a whisper. “Thanks for coming, Theo.”
Theo couldn’t look away. He was drunk on Dae, on feeling open and unguarded in a way he hadn’t in almost a year. Maybe the rules could be different today. What happened in Hamilton stayed in Hamilton.
“I’m happy you invited me.” The hopeful joy pulling at Dae’s lips almost undid him, but then the bus hit a pothole, their bodies knocked together, and Theo pressed himself against the window again. “I mean us. All of us. I’m glad you took that step.”
Dae settled back in his seat. “My eomma wouldn’t give up on the idea.”
“I can’t imagine your eomma has ever given up on any idea.”
He huffed in agreement. “It’s how I ended up in horse camp.”
Theo latched onto this glorious nugget like it was a piece of driftwood keeping him afloat. “Do tell.”
He shook his head. “That’s all you get.”
“Dae.”
“Theo.”
“You’re not this cruel. You can’t tell me you went to horse camp and not elaborate.”
His squashed smile was laced with barely contained mischief. “Later, if you behave.”
The rest of the ride was quiet, but most of the tension had dissipated, and Theo finally un-stuck his shoulder from the window and allowed himself to relax. It meant his arm occasionally brushed Dae’s, but that was fine. Things were different now.
A red car blinked its lights when they walked out of the station, and Dae’s sister rolled down the window, yelling, “Yoo hoo!”
Theo had almost forgotten how absolutely delightful she was. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say ‘yoo hoo’ outside of the Bugs Bunny Show.”
“She’s trying to embarrass me.” Dae opened the backseat door for him, then got in the front, giving Min a stare. “Stop it.”
She put on a Very Serious Face and used a Very Serious Voice. “Hello to you too, Older Brother.” She’d cut her silky, thick hair into a stylish short bob that swung as she turned her head. “Theo! It’s about time you made the trek to Toronto-Lite. I could give you a tour, hit up all the artsy—”
“We don’t have time.” Dae switched to Korean and the two of them bickered. Or at least, that was what it sounded like.
“Okay, fine.” Min winked at Theo through the rearview mirror. “But you have to promise to come back for a full weekend.”
“Promise.”
The drive was quick, with Min chatting the entire way, and then they were pulling up to a house that had a front yard, back yard, and a driveway. Theo didn’t know people living in a city could have so much space.
Inside, chaos unfolded under a cloud of spices and steam.
Dae’s mom yelled something in Korean while his dad shook Theo’s hand and made introductions to grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and friends, then told him there’d be a test later.
Classic dad joke. He even looked the part of a classic dad: tall and sturdy with greying hair, round glasses framing thick-lidded eyes, and a wide friendly smile.
Theo attempted his one Korean phrase and was rewarded with a clap on the back and a hearty laugh.
He didn’t understand where Dae got his shy gene from.
His family was outgoing, loud, and funny.
A few of them asked to touch his hair, which he was more than happy to oblige.
Talking to them was easy, even if his grandparents’ English was spotty.
They’d only moved to Canada last year, which Theo learned when Dae went to cook with his mother and refused to let him help.
Even Min wouldn’t let him set the table, which she argued had always been her job because she was useless in the kitchen.