12
Bonds
On Monday morning, when Peter drove up to her building, Mido was already waiting outside.
“Where’s the fiancé?”
“Peter.”
“Kidding. Are we picking him up?”
“No.”
Peter had more questions. She wasn’t staying over at his hotel, so he figured she was either the kind of girl who didn’t sleep with her boyfriend at all or the kind who didn’t let her parents know that she was sleeping with her boyfriend.
He didn’t want to think about her with Tek, who didn’t seem terrible but didn’t seem right for Mido. Last night, when they went to get pizza, DH, Bo, and he had talked about the boyfriend. As usual, Peter had said little, so finally DH asked Peter what he thought of Tek.
“He’s a suit but doesn’t think he’s a suit,” Peter said.
“Not a fan,” DH muttered. “My sister is wasted on him. Too full of himself. Doesn’t he know how hard athletes work? If he said ‘mate’ one more time, I was going to—”
“You say ‘mate,’ too,” Bo teased. “We used to say ‘mate’ all the time. We just stopped because we moved away. Now you say ‘dude’ or ‘bro’—” He laughed.
“He’s a perfectly good person. We should trust Mido.
She would never date a guy who wasn’t decent.
We probably made him nervous. My issue is that if she stays with him, she’ll have to move. ”
“Dad would be devastated. She’s his favorite,” DH said.
“She could do worse,” Bo said. “He’s clearly smart and a hard worker.
Already a lawyer and working to become a barrister.
Apparently he’s going to do his bar course, then read for some important barrister.
Has the chambers figured out and everything.
It’s impressive. I hadn’t done anything like that at his age. You have to give him credit.”
“You’re right. You’re right,” DH said grudgingly, and turned to Peter. “My brother is the noble one in the family.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Peter said, smiling.
“Thanks, man,” DH said. “I mean—mate. Have more pizza.”
In less than a year, Peter had gotten closer with both Bo and Mido, and it had also occurred to him when Tek showed up that Mido could go back to Australia with him.
It made sense for her to do so, since she had to finish college, and she’d already started at the University of Sydney.
Her parents had received their green cards earlier in the year, so he figured the family was more stable now.
“Are you going back with him?” Peter asked her straight-out.
“No.”
“Does he want you to go back?”
“Yes.”
“I heard from Lion you were going to do more tutoring.”
“Yup.”
“Are you upset or something?”
“No.”
“You fight with Tek?”
“Nope.”
“Are you going to speak in sentences sometime during this ride to Irvine? I am your nice driver, after all.”
Mido laughed and faced him.
Peter looked straight ahead. He wore a black Ramones T-shirt and jeans, looking far younger than his age. She liked the shape of his rounded scalp.
“You don’t dye your hair anymore,” she said.
“It’s also not long anymore.” He patted his head.
“When I met you in Seoul, your hair was sort of blond. Then when you started working here, you had it bleached white almost.”
“Yup.”
“Why did you stop dyeing it?”
“Felt like a stereotype of a musician.”
“You’re not a stereotype. Of anything.”
“Thank you. I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Oh. Hang on. I can think of more. You’re a good teacher. The kids think you’re a cool genius. Their scores go up like crazy after you work with them. And most importantly, my brothers adore you.”
“Wow. Am I dead? Is this a eulogy?”
“I thought I was always nice to you.”
“Yeah, but you don’t say nice things to me. I mean, you don’t not say nice things. Never mind. You just don’t talk as much as other girls.”
“I’m not a stereotype, either.”
They laughed.
When they got to Fortress, Mido unlocked the doors of the hagwon and turned on the lights.
She liked the airy design of the facility and how there was a space for everything.
Unlike the hagwon in Cypress, with its ad hoc add-ons, the Irvine site was seamless and clean.
Everything was new and attractive, and Mido felt proud to work there.
Peter went to his office to review files and test results, and Mido made a pot of coffee in the kitchen. She carried two mugs of coffee and placed one on his desk.
“Thank you.” Peter raised his mug to toast her.
“No problem.”
“I guess I could make coffee, too.” Peter looked a little guilty.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m a college dropout doing admin and tutoring. I know my place.” She winked.
“I’ll make it tomorrow.”
“You drove. We’re even.”
“I think you got the better trade,” he said, and Mido agreed.
The meetings with the parents went quickly. Mothers acted like they didn’t care about where their kids were going to college yet were visibly anxious about their children’s practice test scores.
Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Cho, Mrs. Im, Mrs. Eom, and the two Mrs. Lees—each of them was distinct in appearance, manner, and personality, but it was as if they had studied the same script.
Often the mothers wanted to know how their child had done relative to the others, and Peter evaded answering because it didn’t matter. Over and over, he reassured them throughout the meeting that if the child followed the Fortress plan, most weaknesses could be resolved.
For each student, Mido had already written a detailed individual report and proposed plan of action.
The parents liked the reports, and no one objected to the fees that Yun had implemented for individual and group tutoring.
Yun had read an article about a famous Koreatown hagwon in Manhattan owned by a former doctor, where the tutors and consultants could charge anywhere from $100 to $300 an hour.
Yun had created lower pricing models for Irvine, but they were considerably higher than the ones for Cypress, because it was more difficult to find teachers for the upper-level subjects the high school students here required.
The judge’s wife, Melanie Seo, the Olympic medalist, was the last parent Peter and Mido had to meet that day.
Catherine Seo was another pretty teenager from Orange County.
She was tanned, with large round eyes with dark lashes, and during her diagnostic exam, she’d had a nervous habit of dabbing her lips with clear lip gloss.
Her black hair was streaked blond, giving her a cool LA girl look.
On both Saturday and Sunday, she’d worn a black miniskirt with combat boots and an oversize sweatshirt that dwarfed her tiny frame.
One would not have guessed that her father was an important judge.
Her mother had the squat, muscular frame of a speed skater, but Catherine was built more like her rail-thin father.
Mrs. Seo entered, her face glum. “We had asked Lion Teacher for Catherine to get priority for private math tutoring. As we expected, she didn’t do very well.”
“Actually, Mrs. Seo, she didn’t do badly. She’s a bit weak on geometry, but that’s teachable.”
The mother looked doubtful.
“Also, the longer word problems need some attention,” Mido added.
“Yes. I saw that. She got several of them wrong,” the mother said as if to bolster her argument for private tutoring.
“I think she’d benefit from group study,” Peter said.
“No, no. I think she’d be more likely to admit she doesn’t know things if she is working with a tutor one-on-one.”
“No,” Peter said firmly. “I disagree. I don’t think your daughter is like that. I could tutor Catherine privately; however, I think she might be more motivated in a smaller group. Kids like to see other kids solve problems, and my students support each other.”
Melanie Seo was not persuaded, and turned to Mido.
“Well, if anything, I think Catherine might need more help in verbal. Especially on reading comprehension,” Mido said.
“I was also surprised by that,” she said, visibly irritated by her daughter’s lower-than-expected score.
“Again, I think a small group would be better for Catherine. I’ll be teaching that cohort. If Catherine doesn’t improve in two weeks in either math or verbal, we’d be happy to get her private tutoring. It costs less to be in a small group rather than one-on-one.”
“The cost doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Seo snapped. “We all know you have to pay up for the best coaching.”
Peter exhaled, having heard this before.
“I believe Catherine will get better results from the smaller group if she could see her peers as teammates in this process, rather than as an individual race,” Peter said.
“I disagree,” Mrs. Seo said.
Surprised, Mido looked up from her notes.
“Why is that?” Peter asked.
“Ultimately, my daughter will be competing with these kids to get into her first-choice college. The best schools cannot take that many kids. What is the point of them becoming friends when in fact, they are each other’s rivals?
” she said. “They’re not teammates. It’s a pretty idea, but be realistic. ”
Mido was about to speak when Peter broke in: “It’s true there are limited seats; however, the race is long, and your daughter would benefit personally from both the best teaching and the community to stay the course. I hope you will respect that.”
The mother’s jaw appeared immovable. She resented these American Koreans. They had no idea how hard life was, that sometimes true competitors had no choice but to be loners.
“Two weeks. We’ll try it your way for two weeks.”
The tutors bowed as Catherine’s mother walked out.
When Mido finally reached Tek’s hotel, he was at the hotel gym. She was almost an hour late. He had left her a key at the front desk.
She sat down in the armchair and pulled out her files, and he walked in, a white towel around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Work.”
“Keep at it. I’m taking a shower,” he said. “Then dinner.”
When Tek came out of the shower, he was wearing a robe, his hair still wet. He held her tight, and Mido felt good to be with him.
After lovemaking and then a quick dinner at a nearby Spanish restaurant, she returned to the hotel with him.
Tek rummaged through his knapsack and pulled out a box.
Mido didn’t have to open it to know what it was.
“Babe, should I get on a knee?”
“No, Tek. No.”
“You didn’t even see the ring. It’s one whole carat.” He smiled and opened the box himself to show her the setting. Mido admired it, then closed the box.
“Tek,” she said gently. “I need to be here, and you need to be there.”
Tek’s eyes widened in dismay. “You want to live here and work as an office manager who didn’t finish college? Come on, Mido. Why would you throw your life away? Your parents can’t possibly expect you to do this. It’s not fair. I can speak to them. I can convince them that I can take care of you.”
“No, Tek. I don’t want that.”
“Okay. We can discuss this later.”
Mido sighed. “I have to go home. We’re not breaking up. That’s not what just happened, right? But I can’t get married and move to Sydney.”
“We can get engaged.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then we’re breaking up?”
“No. Why does it have to be in your time frame?”
“Why does it have to be your location?” he asked.
“It would be wrong to take the ring,” she said. “I—”
“I have to return to Sydney. My firm gave me the week, but a big matter came up, and it would be a good opportunity for me to start with the team that—”
“I thought you were going to see my folks and stay the rest of the week.”
“I’m changing my ticket, Mido. My work is there. You can keep thinking about my offer. I want you to come to Sydney. I can always send you a ticket.”
Mido sat down in the armchair, not knowing what to do. He had taken her by surprise again: first the visit; second the ring; and now the change of flights. She was exhausted and felt angry suddenly.
“Will you leave early?” she asked. “Is this because I can’t go with you?”
“Not can’t. Won’t.”
Tek looked in her eyes. She wouldn’t change her mind, and he was upset that he had done this all wrong. He could not back down now.
“There are tickets for flights tomorrow. I checked.”
“Got it.”
“Are you playing hardball with me, Mido?”
“No, you are. I don’t even know how to play.”
“Fine. Do you need money for the taxi?”
“No, I’m fine. Let me know when you arrive in Sydney.”