Chapter 20
20
A week later, I arrive at The Red Kettle at approximately 8:00 p.m. It’s the first truly hot day of the season, and I have to tie my hair up. My dress sticks to the back of my thighs and before I can regret my outfit choice, I see her. Across the street. Young-mi.
I wave at her, and she waves back, recognizing me. I hurry across the street to greet her.
“Young-mi, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“Jae has not called me in a week,” She says nervously. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” I say. “Just busy with the restaurant.” I point towards The Red Kettle. “I’m about to go in. Do you want to come with me?”
“No, no,” She shakes her head, leaning on a wooden cane. “He’s too angry with me.”
“He’s not angry,” I tell her.
“He only talks to me through Izzie. She wants me to call him first.”
“Maybe you should,” I say. “He would like that.”
Young-mi glances across the street at the restaurant. “I will think about it.”
“Are you okay here, by yourself?” I ask her.
“Yes, yes, I am meeting my friend up the street,” she explains. “Don’t worry about me.”
I turn on my heel to go, but before I forget, I stop. “Would you like to do painting lessons with me?” I ask her. Young-mi thinks about it for a moment.
“I would like that,” she says after a long pause. “But only if it’s okay with Jae.”
“I will ask.” I tell her before I turn to cross the street back towards the restaurant. Before I know it, Mae is ushering me in and telling me how beautiful I look. She seats me at a table directly in front of the mural.
I admire my work before I sit down. It complements the space quite well, and I’m glad I went with acrylic paints. I snap a photo for my portfolio, not minding the other patrons sitting in front. I spot Jae in the opposite corner of the restaurant, his hands full of plates, chatting with an older couple.
I take a moment to observe him as he works. He chats with the couple for a few seconds longer before handing dishes off to a busser and moving on to another table. A young couple with a toddler. Hands clasped behind his back, asking them how their food is, he presents them with a grateful smile. Mae walks past him and seemingly whispers something to him, and he turns around towards me.
As Jae notices me, his grin expands further across his face. He gives me a wave from across the dining room but doesn’t make his way over. Instead, he disappears into the kitchen. When he returns, he’s carrying a steaming bowl of bulgogi over rice in one hand and a bubbling cup of jasmine tea in the other.
He serves me with a quick kiss on the cheek, before checking in on other customers and then disappearing back into the kitchen, presumably to prepare more meals. I read the specials posted on the wall near the bar—seaweed salad, lollipop chicken, bulgogi and broccoli over rice, crispy tofu tacos and halo halo.
Food is Jae’s love language. He has been feeding me since we met. I think back to the smoothie he made me, the times he fed me after I was painting. The dumplings. How he named his restaurant. It all boiled down to food.
I am fascinated by how much a plate of food says.
Please stay.
You matter to me.
You’re home.
I love you.
It isn’t the crackers in the cabinet or the key lime pie on the counter that make my house a home. It’s the person I’m eating them for. The person I share them with. The whole reason I make the pie in the first place. I have to tell him.
As I eat, I design my battle plan. I will stay until closing, and when he comes to walk me home, I will tell him on our doorstep. We’ll kiss, and I’ll have my happy ending. I deserve it, after all I’ve been through.
I stay at my corner table, watching customers come and go as the hours do, and Jae flies in and out of the kitchen. He knows the restaurant like the back of his hand. By the time he’s finished cleaning, and while I offer to help, he forces me to sit and to draw on some copy paper. It's nearing 10:30 when he finally sits down across from me and lets out a monstrous sigh.
“Long day?” I ask.
“You have no idea.”
“It looks really busy. That’s good, right?”
“It is, but I’m still exhausted by the end of it.” Jae folds his hands and rests his chin on them. “But you know what would make me feel better?”
“What?” I ask. “Is there anything I can do?”
“A kiss.” He points to his lips.
I lean in across the table to place a delicate kiss on his puckered lips. “You smell like fish.” He smells worse than a fish.
“No kidding.” Jae lets out an uproarious laugh and pulls up his collar to get a whiff. “Yeah, it smells like fish,” he confirms.
We look at each other for a beat, our eyes reading one another’s faces like words on a page. We say each other’s names at the same time.
“You first,” he offers, leaning back in his chair.
“I have to tell you something.” I say to him, feeling the blush creep up my neck into my ears.
“I have to tell you something too.”
“Really?” I smile and cross my arms. “You first.”
He breaks our eye contact and looks away while taking my hand. Oh, fuck.
“I talked to Stuart. I’m breaking the lease on the apartment.” He sighs.
“ Oh,” is all I have to say.
He holds my hand tighter. “My new apartment is in Gramercy Park. It has three bedrooms. And a beautiful, spacious living room. And a den. It’s better for my ma.”
“Did you talk to her?” I asked.
“Yes, she called me just before I came to you.”
“What did she say?” I ask.
“She thinks it would be a good idea if she moved out of Izzie’s apartment and in with me.”
The words are caught in my throat. I don’t want him to leave.
“Can we still see each other every day? Gramercy is far.”
“Nothing will be closer than two floors above you, Riley. But it’s not that far.”
“It’s a train transfer.” My heart is caught in my throat.
“It’s one train transfer. I think I can do that much for you. My restaurant is still here, too, you know.” Jae won’t look me in the eye. There’s something he’s not telling me.
“I don’t care. You can renovate the apartment. Knock down whatever walls you have to,” I say before I can change my mind. I love him, and I don’t want him to leave.
“Riley,” Jae finally looks me in the face. The corners of his mouth are twisted downward and his eyes tell me everything before he says it. “The city won’t let me add a third bathroom attached to the bedroom like they initially said. My mother is declining faster than we thought and the halls will not fit a wheelchair. Izzie is struggling to care for her and her two children.” He squeezes my hand tightly. “I have to move for my mother. I hope you understand.”
“I understand.” I swallow the boulder in my throat. Don’t be an idiot, Riley. This isn’t about you. “You do what you have to do, but why wouldn’t they let you renovate?”
Jae swallows his own boulder. “They said a load bearing wall was in need of serious repairs. That the electrical wiring in the apartment should be completely replaced. And that the current work that would need to be done to fix it would take at least three months. I don’t have three months for my ma.”
My face falls. I don’t remember the apartment being in that much disrepair.
“Why didn’t they ask me to make the repairs?” I ask him.
“I don’t know.” Jae’s face is stone cold sober. “When I asked, they said the landlord wanted to evict the previous tenant over the repairs, but the superintendent convinced him not to and to just raise the rent to an exuberant amount to force them out.”
Stuart.
“That’s what happened to me.” A flurry of anger at Jae is growing in me, even though this is not even remotely his fault. I just want to be angry at anyone except myself. “Is that even legal? How did they let you rent the apartment?”
“They lowered the rent price if I agreed I would make the repairs myself. The new tenant has agreed to take on the project.”
“I’m sorry, Jae. I didn’t mean to let the apartment fall apart.”
“It’s not your fault, love. The whole section of apartments is facing the same thing.” Jae reassures me. “You were grieving.”
“That’s not an excuse,” I tell him, feeling defeated.
“Yes, it is.” Jae counters. “You lost the love of your life, Riley. Give yourself some fucking credit and stop beating yourself up over having grief.” His voice hits me like lashes from a whip. “I can’t watch you self-destruct over actual trauma anymore.”
What he said echoes around in my head, bouncing around like a pinball.
Give yourself some fucking credit, Riley.
When he apologizes for snapping at me, I want to cry again, not because he was too honest and straightforward, but because he’s right.
I feel the tension lift from my shoulders and my face. He’s right. He’s right.
Jae stands up and hauls me to my feet.
“I love you, Jae.” I say the words, dumping out, releasing the worry in my chest by the bucketful. With feeling. With meaning.
Jae pulls me taut to his chest, and I breathe in his scent despite any fishiness and let myself feel calmed.
“I love you, too, Riley,” Jae whispers to the top of my head.
“You really smell like fish.” I laugh into his chest, and I know I’ve got him when he laughs into my hair.
“You mean you’re gonna miss it, right?”
“I’ll be here every night.” I smile into his muscled chest. “As long as you feed me delicious food.”
“I’ll always cook for you, love.”
“I’ve known you loved me,” I confess to him.
“How did you know?” I look up at his face as he asks, his stubble growing in slightly, his eyes looking tired from a truly long day.
“The food.”
“What do you mean?” I see the puzzlement in his eyes.
“You don’t cook food like that for someone you don’t love.”
“This is my restaurant, Riley. I cook like that for everyone.”
“You must have a lot of love to give, then,” I declare. “Mine tasted especially delicious.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”