3 #2
DH folded his arms. “She put me through school, and so did you. I’m going to help out, too, and when Mido finally changes her mind about finishing,” he continued, ignoring Mido’s irritated expression, “we’ll send her to college.
I can give you five hundred a month. If I get a bonus at the end of the year, I’ll add more. ”
“No,” Mido said firmly. Her head down, she folded T-shirts and sweatpants.
“You still have school loans and credit card debts. I can do this on my earnings alone. I made $126,000 last year. After you pay off your debts, we’ll talk about how you can help.
” She turned to Bo. “I can send you $1,200 a month for rent and food and $300 for your car expenses.”
“That’s an awful lot of money, Mido,” Bo said. She wouldn’t make eye contact as she said these difficult things. However, what she was saying was true. If he kept working at Fortress, Bo’s degree would take even longer, and his work would suffer. His advisor had also told him to live on campus.
Mido didn’t look up as she organized the old clothes. Sitting cross-legged, she leaned across the floor to push the folded pile of clothing away from her and pulled a messy pile toward her.
“I don’t think I’m going to college for a while,” she said.
“What?” Bo said. “Why?”
“I just turned twenty-five. Not sure if I see the point of it. It makes more sense for me to keep doing what I’m doing. And last year I made good money: $65,000 from my salary as the manager at Fortress and over sixty from college admissions counseling and SAT boot camps.”
“Wow,” Bo said. “Lion said you were doing well, but I didn’t know. Okay, I’m impressed, but isn’t it short-term thinking? Just thinking about how much you’re making now?”
“Why, do I have to make more? I heard that some hagwon teachers and college consultants can make high six figures.”
“But there’s so much more you might want to learn,” Bo said, and Mido shrugged.
“Mido. You have to get your degree,” DH said. “You have to finish school. Mommy would have wanted that.” His voice broke.
The three grew quiet, and after a long pause, Mido spoke.
“Umma would be so happy if she knew you were going to get a PhD.” Mido looked up at the ceiling and blinked.
“When I passed the bar, the first person I wanted to call was Mommy,” DH said through his tears. From the top of Mido’s stack of folded clothes, DH picked up his brother’s faded blue sweatshirt from middle school and wiped his face.
Bo put his arm around his shoulder. “I know. I wanted to call her, too. When you passed. Apparently the California bar is hard.”
“The toughest,” DH said, laughing. “This dummy passed it on the first try.”
Bo and Mido laughed.
“I don’t know how to be without her,” DH said. “I keep reading that notebook she gave me. I was hoping she had written some advice, but she didn’t.”
“She wrote me a ten-page letter,” Bo said.
“What?”
“Kidding,” Bo said, and DH pushed him gently with his left foot.
“You’re kicking your older brother? The lack of respect!” Bo laughed.
Finally looking at them, Mido said, “Mom wrote that I was her favorite.”
“She did not,” DH said.
“She did not,” Mido said. “We know who that was.”
DH started to cry again and buried his face in Bo’s old sweatshirt.
“What did she write in your notebook?” DH asked Bo.
“She wrote that I had to make sure Mido finished her degree,” Bo answered, eyebrows raised to look more stern.
“No, she wouldn’t,” Mido said, staring at her brother, uncertain if he was teasing.
“He’s kidding, Mido. But Mommy might have if she knew you wouldn’t go,” DH said, smiling. “So? What did yours say?” He faced Bo.
“Mine was filled with lists of things she had to do for me. Lots of budget stuff. All my report cards were in there, too. I kept thinking there’d be some clues or instructions,” Bo said, then grew quieter. “She had such nice handwriting. In English and Korean.”
DH exhaled and took another breath. “Same. I couldn’t look at it for a long time, and finally, when I read it, it was what you said.
Lists of things to do like parent-teacher meetings, the name and model of the cool cleats that I’d wanted for Christmas, and the prices of things I needed for soccer.
And, of course, my report cards. There were the worn-out envelopes in the back where she saved money for us. ”
Mido’s notebook had been filled with names of specialists in Sydney, recorded in her mother’s remarkable penmanship. Her brothers had not needed all these extra people. She’d given her mother so much more to do, and Mido felt sorry that she hadn’t realized any of it until it was too late.
“Everything will get done. Mommy always said this,” DH said.
“Whenever I’d speak to her from overseas, and I was freaking out about some exam or tournament, she’d say, ‘Dae-hun-ah, everything will get done. Commit your plans to the Lord.’ Sometimes, when I was really losing it, she’d pray with me.
Even though it was such an expensive call. ”
DH wiped his nose, and Mido looked around for the box of tissues, but there wasn’t one in the guest room. Bo was crying, too, and Mido got up to get some from the bathroom. She sat down beside DH and pulled the blue sweatshirt away from his face.
Helen had lived by these words, believing that everything would get done, but everything had not been done because she was gone. There was so much more left to do. The notebooks weren’t even full.
“One thing at a time. One person at a time. We will each do our work,” Mido said.
The boys looked like their mother more than their father. They had her large dark eyes and the strong nose. Mido alone had gotten her father’s full lips. Only Bo was nearsighted and squinted, even with his glasses.
Mido said to Bo, “It’s settled. I’m sending you to school, and I can do it for six years.
As for my degree, I’ll decide then. I went to college in Sydney because it was expected of me.
I never once questioned it. But now I’m not sure why I have to go.
I’m already a well-regarded, highly paid teacher.
College is a nice idea, but if any of us are studying, we’re not getting paid.
It makes sense for me to earn money. Besides, my education should be my choice. ”
DH covered his mouth. What he felt was awe. When they were growing up, even their mother, who believed in miracles, would not have guessed that little Mido would be educating her two older brothers.
Bo bowed his head and said nothing, which was his form of assent. He was thinking that with his savings and fellowships, he might be able to relieve her sooner than in six years, but it would be hard.
“How can I let you do this?” Bo asked.
“Easy. You’re both now my retirement plans,” she said, beaming. “I’m getting the better deal. When you get married, you better tell your wives that you’re responsible for me, too.” She laughed. “Kidding.”
“Our little Mido is impressive,” DH said, his chin touching his chest.
Mido said nothing, feeling relieved that she could do something. She liked teaching kids, and she had reason to work harder now. Her brothers would have graduate degrees: a lawyer and a psychologist.
“Hey, how about marriage? You’re not getting any younger. When are you going to find a husband?” DH asked.
Bo turned to his younger brother. “Hello. Privacy?”
DH ignored him.
“So, is Tek still out?”
“He’s been out for a long time,” Bo said.
The brothers checked Mido’s face to confirm.
“Didn’t he want to marry you?” DH asked.
Mido never talked about him anymore. “I would’ve given my approval if I liked him enough.
I mean, after giving him a battery of tests and trials: Go pluck the moon from the sky for my baby sister, slay a modest-sized dragon to be worthy, and find the tooth of a flawless purple unicorn.
Though he does get a plus for being Korean, even though he’s an Aussie, and Peter said—”
“What did Peter say?” Mido checked DH’s bemused expression.
“He said Tek came out again after the funeral, then hasn’t in the past two years. That’s all.”
Mido pursed her lips.
“You still like him?” Bo asked Mido with a little more hesitation in his voice than his brother, who could ask anyone anything and not be put off.
When Mido remained blank-faced, Bo glanced at DH and made a slicing gesture with his hand drawn across his neck.
Undeterred, DH said, “You could go back to Australia and finish school. You liked it there, and if you want to take him back—”
“I want to be here,” she said.
DH was watching Mido like a prosecutor. She kept her eyes lowered, unwilling to reveal her thoughts. The brothers knew why she felt compelled to stay. Mido was also keeping their father alive.
“So you’re giving up school and marriage?” DH asked.
“I like my work. And for the time being, I make more money than either of you.”
“Show-off,” Bo said, moving near her and giving her shoulders a squeeze. “Hey, I’m proud of you,” he said.
“Me, me!” DH shouted, moving even closer to them. “Be proud of me, too!”
“No, not you,” Bo said, shaking his head. “Sit down, Counselor.”
Mido laughed.
“She didn’t write it down, but Mom would have wanted you to take care of yourself, too,” Bo told her. “She would have wanted you to get your degree.”
“I know,” she said.