2 #2
“I’m good, Dad. I wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about applying to law school. I got a good LSAT score, and my advisor thinks it’s not a bad idea.”
“Oh, that’s nice, right?” John felt proud and hopeful suddenly.
It was as if he were a young man again and applying to law school himself.
“When I was a boy, I thought about becoming a prosecutor, but I knew I couldn’t get into the law program at SNU.
I stuck to math because, well, I’m very good at it.
” John wiped his hands on his apron and looked down at his black rubber kitchen clogs.
The only time he used math now was when he divided the fish into uniform pieces or weights.
“I think it would be wonderful for you to study law. So proud of you,” he said, but something struck him. “Your voice. You don’t sound happy.”
“That’s why I called, Dad. I’m worried about the cost. I can take out loans if I get in. I heard they’re easy for law students.”
“Don’t worry about money. We have money.
You study. I’ll work as many hours as I need if that means that you kids can—” John exhaled and sat down on the stool by the cash register.
In the back of the restaurant, Nari was folding paper takeout boxes while watching a drama on the VCR television set anchored to the ceiling.
He felt a swell of relief at knowing that DH was embarking on a far different path from the one he’d somehow taken.
“Where will you apply?”
“All the top ones and a few safeties. If I don’t get in, I’ll look for jobs in California.”
“Did you tell Mommy?”
“I wanted to ask you first. I know she’s going to say the same thing.
I just felt bad because I’ve spent the most. I can’t ask the foundation for any more money.
Dr. Song said it was only through undergrad.
I still don’t know how to even thank whoever paid for Andover and Yale.
You and Mom still paid tens of thousands of dollars, and Bo is putting himself through school and sponsoring you guys.
Mido is pulling a paycheck. I should do more.
I don’t know how I became the student in the family. I’m the dummy.” DH laughed.
“No child of mine is a dummy,” John said. “You call Mommy and tell her that I told you not to worry about graduate school. If you want to study, we will find the money. Okay, DH?”
DH exhaled. “I’ll start on the essays, then. These applications are really long.”
“How much do the applications cost? Tell us and we’ll send you the money right away,” John said.
After they got off the phone, John felt lighter. He went into the kitchen and counted the number of fillets he had left to prepare. The kitchen felt brighter and cleaner than he remembered. Even the smell of oil had lifted somehow.
Buoyant, John hadn’t realized how much he needed something good to happen, to remind him of a time when the future seemed unrestricted by limits and unfairness. Things had been so up and down that he had started to believe that nothing truly good would happen to them anymore.
Money—something they had once rarely discussed at home—had been present in every decision ever since he was fired from HRI, and even though he and Helen worked all the time, they could not seem to return to how things had been.
There had been nicer neighborhoods, excellent public schools with fine teachers and facilities, and special occasions when they could eat at a restaurant without looking at the price per item.
It wasn’t as if DH had been accepted to law school or become a prosecutor.
John had no idea if being a lawyer was easy or hard in America.
What mattered now was that his children, even his middle son who had preferred sports to school, wanted to keep climbing the steep hills, so he couldn’t give up.
John would carry them as far as his body let him.
When the last student was picked up, Mido started cleaning up her classroom.
Peter’s students were older and tidier, so all he had to do was turn out the lights, and he came to help.
While she collected the test materials and the geometry diagrams, Peter straightened the rows of desks, then started on the blackboard.
“Have you heard from DH?” Mido asked. Her brother and Peter spoke regularly. Peter didn’t seem to pay attention to the cost of long-distance calls. “I miss him.”
“I spoke to him last night, as a matter of fact.”
“And?”
“He’s applying to law schools now. He did really well on the LSATs. That’s our boy.”
“What? I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”
“I found out last night. He didn’t want anyone to know until he got his scores back. He said the logic section gave him a bit of trouble, but he’d practiced on a bunch of old tests,” Peter said.
“Yeah, that logic section is weird. I don’t understand how that’s related to law.”
“I could never be a lawyer,” Peter said. “Sounds dreadful.”
“Tek will be a lawyer soon. At USyd, it’s a five-year law program.
It’s not like going to law school for three years after college in the States.
There are some requirements, but basically you become a solicitor when you graduate.
But he wants to become a barrister. You know, the lawyers who argue in court?
It’s like being a litigator in America. Becoming a barrister takes more time than being a solicitor. ”
“Your boyfriend wants to get paid to argue. In court,” Peter said, grunting dismissively.
“Tek’s always been a good debater.” Mido felt obliged to defend him. “And he’s good at arguing. Not with me. I mean, he doesn’t argue with me.”
“I wouldn’t argue with you, either,” Peter said with a smile.
Mido picked up her jacket and tote bag to head out.
“You want to get food?” he asked her.
“I should get home. I think my aunt is making dinner.”
“Is she a good cook?”
“Yes.”
“I’d love to have a home-cooked meal.”
“You aren’t really Korean, are you?” Mido laughed, admiring how he just said what he wanted.
“Koreans can be straightforward, too, you know. Don’t make generalizations,” he said.
John, Helen, and Sonya had already eaten, but there was plenty of food left over for Bo, Mido, and Peter. Everyone was happy to see Peter, who served as a kind of stand-in for DH. Peter ate two servings of everything, delighting Sonya, and when he left for his place, the apartment felt quieter.
“If I keep working at the hagwon, I can help DH with his law school tuition,” Bo said.
“Aren’t you going to apply to transfer to UCLA?” Mido asked him.
“Yes,” Bo said. “The Fullerton counselor said I should. I think I’m going to major in psychology.”
Sonya clapped. “My nephews will be a prosecutor and a psychologist. Wonderful. So wonderful,” she said.
“I think you should start school, too, Mido. Maybe take a few classes at Long Beach or Fullerton, then you can make some progress with your education,” Helen said.
John nodded. “Your mom and I will keep working, and we’ll help with the tuition. DH said he can take out some student loans.”
“I’m going to keep working,” Mido said. “With all the private tutoring I’m doing, I’ll make almost $70,000 in a year.
I can help us buy a house. It makes sense for me to do this, and I really like the kids,” she said.
“When my brothers are done, they can help with the house, too. I almost don’t see why I have to get a degree. ”
“You have to go to college,” Helen protested.
“Your mother is right. You have to go to school, too,” John said. “You like school,” he said quietly.
Mido spoke to her parents directly. “I’m already teaching students. Here I don’t need a degree. I make more than an elementary school teacher in the district.”
John looked at his daughter with concern.
Bo jumped in. “Waaah, will the family baby send me to school? I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or proud.”
“Maybe later you can send me. After you and DH are done and we own a house,” Mido said firmly.
John and Helen shook their heads, not quite believing what their youngest was saying. Regardless, for a moment, they felt happy, wanting to feel like this decision to come to California had been a good one, and it occurred to Sonya that her sister’s family had much more than most.