Chapter 14
CONFESSIONAL 1194
Yang, Dal (Head Chef, Serenade: Juniper Ridge)
Running a restaurant’s not easy under the best of circumstances. You’re juggling orders, making sure sides get done with the entrée and keeping it straight who’s gluten-free or vegan and who ordered the cheeseburger, hold the pickles and tomato and the meat and bun.
Yeah, that’s a thing. It’s just lettuce and a fucking slice of cheese, I guess. I don’t know.
But juggling all that while kicking your own ass?
That’s a skill I haven’t mastered.
* * *
“Who used the last of the garlic?”
No one replies. Not even my sous chef, who’s been rolling her eyes at my mood all night.
Like always, I can count on my brother. “You used the garlic, asshole.” Ji-Hoon wheels past, a bus tub of dishes laid flat on his lap. As our dish kid hurries to grab them, my brother spins to my side. “For the big tofu order at table six?”
Hell, he’s right. “Could someone grab more from the pantry?” I scrap away the ginger I’ve diced, then check the order board. “And let’s hurry up with the?—”
“Dal.” Ji-Hoon glides to my other side.
“What?” I don’t glance up. I need to get the garnish for this?—
“Look at me.”
“I’m busy right now.” True, we’ve only got a couple orders on the board, and the team could handle this with half of them on break. But if I stop now, I’ll start thinking. “I’m working, Ji-Hoon.”
“Give it a rest.”
“Can’t rest.” I snatch my chef’s knife and make neat, even cuts through an onion. My eyes start to sting, so I swear at the onion. “I’m busy.” The last thing I need is time with my thoughts. Thoughts tumbling to Lana, to the words she spoke before turning away.
It’s been more than six hours, and I still see the hurt in her eyes. The set of her shoulders as she walked away. She must be at home with her siblings right now. Tonight was the dinner where she planned to tell?—
“Right now, Dal!” My brother’s bark knocks the knife from my hand. Even the sous chef looks up with alarm.
Abandoning me, Ji-Hoon wheels to her side. “Simi, can you take over for the rest of the night?”
“Of course,” she says, wiping her brow. “We’re pretty slow.”
I glare at my brother. “I don’t want?—”
“I don’t care what you want.” He wheels around, narrowly missing my foot. On purpose, I think. “We’re going home. Right now, namdongsaeng.”
My throat swells tight and I fight to breathe.
Namdongsaeng.
Little brother.
He hasn’t called me that since?—
“Fine.” Tugging off my apron, I sling it in the hamper and follow Ji-Hoon out the door.
We’re halfway home before he speaks again. “You’ve been a huge asshole all night.”
“Like that’s new.” I know what he means, though. “I’ll apologize tomorrow.”
“All of them saw the show.” He glances at me, and I stumble. Righting myself, I catch up in a few quick strides.
“I’m not sorry I outed Shirleen.” There, I said it. “I feel bad about betraying Lana, and I could have handled it better. But the secret needed to come out at some point.”
My brother looks up and there’s scorn in his eyes. “And you thought that was your job?”
“Someone had to do it.”
“No, Dal.” His voice sounds almost pitying. “They didn’t.”
We’re at the door, and I swing it open. Ji-Hoon wheels ahead, then spins around when he reaches the table. Korain sits hunched at the head of it, elbows propped on a placemat. He looks up, and I swear he’s aged ten years today.
My blood runs cold.
“What?” Oh, God. Something’s happened. “What’s wrong? You have cancer? Did someone die? Are you going back to Korea or?—”
“Sit down, Dal.” The kindness in his eyes drops me to the chair beside him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Drawing a breath, I put my arms on the table. “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”
He looks at Ji-Hoon, who already seems to know what’s happening. My brother glides to Korain’s other side. “He saw you on TV.” Ji-Hoon waits for me to nod. “The way you handled things with Lana?”
I look at Korain, who shakes his head a bit sadly. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“That’s what this is about?” I start to get up, but he stops me with a hand on my arm. “What? I know I could have handled things better, but?—”
“Joka, be quiet a moment.” His sharp tone stalls the words in my throat. “I need you to listen. Can you do that?”
Gritting my teeth, I nod. “Yes.”
My uncle draws a shaky breath. “Your mother and I dated.”
“Okay.”
Another deep breath from Korain. “This was before she met your father. Long before you kids came along.”
“I know.” This is what’s got him so upset? “Korain, I knew this already. She showed me a photo when I was small. Maybe seven or eight years old.” It seemed trivial at the time. It’s still trivial. “She said you went out on three or four dates, and then she met our dad.”
I still remember the spark in her eyes. She told me the story one night as we flipped through a family album. “Love at first sight,” she said, smoothing my hair back from my face. Ji-Hoon snuggled close on her other side. “That’s how it was for us.”
One of so many memories, clutching my throat as I sit here, absorbing the torment on my uncle’s face.
“That’s not all.” My brother nods to Korain. “Let him finish.”
I swing back to my uncle, who swallows hard and keeps going.
“I stepped back the moment your parents told me they had feelings for each other,” he continues. “Anyone with eyes could see they were meant to be together.”
“I remember.” My throat feels knotted and I wish for a glass of wine. But something tells me not to move. “They had a great marriage.”
His forehead pinches, but he nods. “The best.”
“Not like some Hollywood sham.” I don’t even mean just Shirleen and Laurence Judson. My short years in show biz opened my eyes to how some marriages become mere business deals. “It wasn’t like that with my parents. They were soulmates right up until the end.”
“Indeed.” He looks like he wants to say something, then picks up his wineglass instead. Takes a small sip before setting it down. “I didn’t know your father’s diagnosis.”
It takes me a second to catch up. “The Parkinson’s?”
“Yes.” His lips press together. “But I knew something wasn’t right.”
That’s news to me. “His sense of smell, you mean. The insomnia?”
“More than that.” He wants to say more, so I wait. “When the disease strikes young, it doesn’t always follow a typical path. There is no typical path with this disease, Dal.” His throat rolls as he swallows. “I’ve been talking with doctors, trying to understand if maybe we missed some signs.”
“Same,” Ji-Hoon says softly. “There’s no blood test to diagnose it. Did you know that?”
I didn’t. “So, how did he know for sure?”
“It’s a clinical diagnosis,” Ji-Hoon explains. “Basically, a checklist doctors follow to determine if symptoms fit the disease.”
My uncle nods like he’s learned this, too. “But with no conclusive screenings or tests, people in early stages get misdiagnosed frequently.”
“It’s rarely anyone’s first guess for someone young like Dad.” Ji-Hoon says. “Doctors look first at other neurological conditions. They try to make the symptoms add up, but often they don’t.”
“Okay.” It’s an inexact science, I get that. What’s the point? What do my uncle and brother know that I don’t? “What’s that got to do with?—”
“Have you read up on the side effects of Parkinson’s Disease?” Korain studies my face. “The symptoms?”
This conversation’s making me dizzy. “A little. I did some online searching after you told me.” I know more than I did a few weeks ago, but that’s not much. “Sounds like a lot of it has to do with slow or jerky movements. Stiffness in the arms or legs, or sometimes tremors. Just a general lack of control.”
“Yes,” he says, then clears his throat. “This was an issue for your father.”
I frown. “Dad had trouble with motor control.”
“Among other issues.” Korain looks down at his wineglass, so I glance at my brother.
“I imagine that was very difficult,” I say slowly.
Not nearly as difficult as living in a wheelchair, but Ji-Hoon nods. “Maybe not as difficult as some of the other symptoms.”
I glance at my uncle, who’s still refusing to look at me. He does clear his throat, though. “Your father had difficulty performing his matrimonial duties in a fashion befitting a wedded man of his age.”
Say what?
I look to Ji-Hoon for translation.
My brother shrugs. “Dad couldn’t get it up.”
“Jesus.” There’s something I didn’t need to know.
“What?” Ji-Hoon sweeps a hand from Korain to me. “We’re all adults here.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Why are we talking about this?”
“Because, Dal.” Korain sighs. “Since you’ve just made a spectacle of a woman for having relations outside her marriage, I thought you should know there’s sometimes more to a story.”
“What the fuck are you—oh.”
In a flash of awareness, I get it.
Then I wish I didn’t.
“Wait.” I shuffle the puzzle pieces in my brain, then shove them off the fucking table. “You had sex with my mother?”
“My mother, too.” Ji-Hoon throws up both hands like he thinks I might freak out. “What? I didn’t know either. Not until we saw you on TV.”
Korain lets out a long breath. “We watched the Jamila Jarrett show together.” He looks at Ji-Hoon. “I told him at commercial break.”
About the same time Lana dumped me. It’s been a day of big news for the Yang brothers.
“An affair.” I can’t believe I’m just finding out. “You and my mother had an affair.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Korain says.
I blink as the other shoe drops. “Wait.” I look from my uncle to my brother. “You’re not saying—” All the blood leaves my brain. “Are you my father?”
“Christ, no!” Korain looks offended. “We never had sex when we dated. Your mother and I weren’t intimate until six months before she and your father passed.”
“Great,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “That makes it so much better.”
“Dal.” My brother frowns as our uncle buries his face in his hands.
“I felt so much shame, joka.” Korain’s voice comes out muffled through his fingers. “But a woman has needs. And as my twin brother, your father agreed it made sense that I?—”
“Wait, hold on.” I shake my head a few times to be sure I’m not dreaming. That this isn’t some fucked up nightmare. “My father knew?”
“Marriages are complicated.” My uncle peels his hands off his face and looks at me. “Life is complicated. Who are we to judge the way someone conducts theirs?”
Jesus.
I look to Ji-Hoon for answers, but he sits there, stoically, like he knows where our uncle’s going with his story. At least one of us does.
“My father gave his blessing.” I still can’t wrap my head around this.
“Yes, joka.” He folds his hands on the table. “An arrangement we reached together—your mother, your father, and me.”
This is completely fucked up. “And Dad didn’t tell you anything about the Parkinson’s. Just—‘hey, my dick’s not working, please service my wife.’”
My uncle regards me like I’ve spit on the floor. “Don’t denigrate your parents’ memory. We were all adults, Dal. We came to a mutual agreement.” He lets out a long, slow breath. “Maybe I should have asked more questions. About the medical cause behind the need? Maybe if I had?—”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Ji-Hoon puts his hand on our uncle’s arm. “I think it’s clear, Dad didn’t want anyone to know.”
No kidding.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turn back to Korain. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you don’t wish to know this information, correct? It’s uncomfortable, yes?”
“Damn right it is.” I stare at my uncle. He’s not making sense.
“Sometimes,” he says slowly, “people hold back the truth because it hurts more people than it helps.”
“I don’t—” This isn’t the point. “You’re saying you told me this now to hurt me?”
“No, joka.” The kindness in his eyes makes my chest ache. “I’m telling you now so you understand. There’s kindness sometimes in controlling a story. In waiting to share it at a time and a place where it does the least damage. Let me ask you something.”
“All right.” I’m too numb to argue at this point.
“If I’d shared this with you in the months, the years, right after your parents’ death, would that have been the right time?”
“Of course not.” Try never. Never might’ve been the right time.
“What about the years we fought for your brother to walk again?” He nods at Ji-Hoon, who lifts a hand like we’re meeting for drinks. “Would the time have been right to tell you then?”
I see where he’s going with this. “It’s different with Lana. Her mother pressured her to keep the secret.”
“As a kindness to her siblings.” He holds up a hand when I start to argue. “And herself, I’m certain. I don’t doubt there’s some element of selfishness involved. Isn’t there always?”
I open my mouth and then close it again. He might have a point.
“Dal.” He reaches out and puts a hand on my arm. “I may not be the best communicator. I’ve made many mistakes. But in choosing not to tell this part of your parents’ story, I did what I thought would be best for you and your brother. For your parents’ memory.”
Words escape me, so I look at Ji-Hoon.
“Bro.” He’s scratching his head, a hint of a smile at the edge of his mouth. “You should see the look on your face.”
“Fuck you.” There’s no venom in the curse. All the fury’s drained out of me. “You think this way, too? That I should have left it to Lana and her parents to tell their story their own way?”
“Yeah,” he says, and I’m not surprised. “I do.”
I wait a few breaths to feel differently. To feel righteous indignation or the sense that I’ve still got a leg to stand on. There’s nothing. Only the sense that I’ve done the wrong thing.
“You’re right.” I look from Ji-Hoon to Korain and back again. “You’re both right. It wasn’t my place. I should have trusted Lana to know the best way to handle their story.”
Korain’s eyes soften. “Your heart was in the right place, joka. Your brain just didn’t follow.”
“Neither did your mouth,” Ji-Hoon adds, and I glare at him. “What? Just telling the truth. You have a fine appreciation for the truth.”
I hate when he’s right. “How do I fix this?”
“With Lana?” Korain cocks his head. “You’re asking a sixty-two-year-old man who’s never been married?”
“Hey, now.” Ji-Hoon grins. “I’ve never been married, and I happen to be an expert at love. Rosa told me I’m the best man she’s ever dated.”
I glare at my brother. “This is helping me, how?”
“She said I’m incredible,” he continues. “Sweet and smart and sensitive.”
“You are,” I mutter. “You’re also kind of a dick.”
My brother keeps going like I haven’t spoken at all. “She said this is the strongest, most stable relationship she’s ever been in with a man, because I respect her and see her as an equal.”
“Great.” I get it, my big brother’s bested me at love. “So tell me, oh wise and magnificent one, how do I win back my girl?”
“Show her you see her,” he says, like it’s obvious. “That you know where you screwed up, sure. But she also deserves the truth.”
“Which truth?”
With a way-too-wise smile, my brother leans close. “That you hang on her every word. That you worship the ground she walks on. That you’ve memorized every freckle on her nose, every gesture she makes, every memory she’s shared with you. That you know her, Dal. And that you love her because of it.” He pauses to search my eyes. “Can you do that?”
I swallow hard, emotion clogging my throat. He’s right. My big brother’s right, and so is my uncle. I look from Korain to Ji-Hoon, these two men much smarter than I am. A fierce wave of love cuts me off at the knees and I’m suddenly gasping for breath.
“It’s okay.” Korain touches my other arm, looking relieved I’m not angry. “Relationships are messy, Dal. The people in them are human, and humans mess up. It’s how you fix your mistakes that matters.”
“Okay.” I draw a few breaths, allowing my head to clear. To find a path forward that means winning Lana back. “I can do this.”
I look to my family, praying like hell they agree.
“You’re right, namdongsaeng.” Ji-Hoon smiles. “You can.”