8 #2
“That gray car.” She pointed to the Honda Accord. “I want my car to be clean. I want it to be parked within the white lines.”
Lion patted her back. She was upset about her father leaving.
“I spoke with my sister, Sarah, about your citizenship application.”
“What?”
“I took Bo to see my sister for his parents’ immigration issues, and when Sarah was talking about Bo sponsoring his parents, it occurred to me that you have to apply soon.”
“My mom said she could go back to Seoul. Her brothers are there.”
“How about you?”
“I’m staying. I’m going to become a citizen. Your sister said I need five continuous years of residency. I want to become a citizen, go to college, and move out.”
“You can live with me. I mean, after we get married,” Lion said.
“What?” They’d never discussed marriage seriously before.
“You’re worried,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re comparing yourself to a beat-up car that looks abandoned,” he said, smiling and looking hopeful.
“You have your green card. In less than a year, you can file papers to become a citizen. You can do it with your mom if she wants, or alone. You can move out if you want. Your dad is living his life, and so is your mom. I became financially independent in college. But you don’t have to be alone. We can get married.”
Yun tried to understand what he was saying.
“I love you, and you love me. I was going to ask you after your graduation, but why not now? Why not?”
She didn’t know what to say. “Why not?” was one of Lion’s favorite phrases. He thought the world was too unquestioning, and often he would ask in his polite, thoughtful way, Why not? His students loved it when he’d say this. The two words had the power to make resistance disappear.
“Sarah got married early, too. Your mother can come live with us. Bo is moving out.”
Yun ate some ice cream and thought about it.
“I’m a native-born citizen, and I can provide for you. Sarah said if you’re married to a US citizen, then the continuous time requirement is shorter. More importantly, I love you, and I’d be so grateful if you became my wife.”
Yun looked at him. She was nineteen years old and about to finish her second year in college.
“When?” she asked.
“Soon. Whenever you like,” he said, never having thought about a wedding before.
He’d never thought about marriage at all until he started dating Yun, and then he had known she was the one for him right away.
It occurred to him that perhaps he should’ve mentioned that before talking to her about immigration law.
“You would do this for me?” she asked. Her eyes looked enormous with concern.
“You would be doing this for me,” he answered. “We’re going to have a wonderful life, Yun. You’re marrying a struggling songwriter and successful hagwon owner. How fun is that? You’re my person. I know this.”
“Really?”
“Really. Now finish your ice cream,” he said. “You have to eat more.”
“Why not?” she said with a smile.
To save on the electric bill, Nari rarely turned on the overhead lights. The dark living room was illuminated only by a table lamp with a beige pleated shade and the blue-and-red glow of the television set Nari was watching when Yun came home from church.
Yun hung up her raincoat in the closet, placed her tote bag on the chair by the door, and removed her sneakers.
“Did you have dinner?” Nari asked. Her legs were raised on her husband’s recliner and covered with a red fleece blanket.
Yun nodded, although she had only eaten ice cream.
“How was Castle today?” she asked.
“The new cook started. I don’t know how long he’ll last.”
“Oh?” Yun looked up.
“He’s complaining already. He wants more money.”
“I can work on Saturday if that helps.”
“What about your midterms?”
“I can still be there,” she said. “Oh, Lion rented a bigger space today.”
“For the hagwon?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t he do something else? He’s still young.”
“What’s wrong with the hagwon?”
“Yun-ah, the boy went to Princeton. He’s smart and comes from a nice family. Can’t he go to law school? His sister is a successful lawyer, right? And his brother has that nice real estate business.”
“Not everyone wants to be a lawyer. He’s a musician.”
“But he can’t be a successful musician here. Maybe as a classical musician. Does he play the piano, or violin? I don’t know a single Korean American who’s on the radio. Every day at Shrimp Castle, I have the radio playing, and I’ve been paying attention to the singers, and everyone is American.”
“Lion was born here.”
“All the American singers are White or Black. No Koreans.”
Nari didn’t want to argue with her daughter, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the young man’s far-fetched goals. If things became serious between them, she didn’t want her only child to be with a man who was disappointed, who had failed at his dreams.
“It’s not like in Korea, where there are so many pop singers.”
Yun didn’t say anything. Even Lion had said that Asians from here didn’t get record deals. But things would change, he said. Yun believed him.
“You can make a nice living as a lawyer,” Nari said. “How will you have a big house and give things to your children?”
“He has a house. I’m not telling him what to do. He’s doing well as a hagwon owner, too. He doesn’t depend on anyone.”