9
Celebration
None of them could remember the last time everyone had eaten together at a Western restaurant, and the mood was joyful.
Lion had already ordered, so as soon as they were seated, servers brought out fried calamari and shrimp cocktail.
Silver platters of shucked oysters on chipped ice followed.
Two waiters brought trays of champagne in glass flutes.
John said a short prayer to bless the food.
“Thank you, Elder Koh.” Lion bowed to John, who returned the bow to the younger man, only three years older than Bo.
“Thank you, Elder Han,” John said. They laughed.
It had been Lion’s idea to host the girls’ birthday dinner in a private room at Chip’s, the upscale steak house in Irvine.
Mido and Yun had been born eight days apart, so they usually had a joint birthday party on the first or second Sunday of October at Yun’s house, but this year, Lion had insisted on going out.
He made all the plans and invited both families and Peter.
At the long, cloth-covered table decorated with fresh-cut flowers in silver vases, Yun, Nari, Ginny, and Mido were seated on one side. Opposite them were Bo and DH, who had managed to slip out of work that Sunday afternoon, and Peter. John sat at the head of the table and Lion on the opposite end.
John had come straight from a church meeting and wore his best gray suit and a navy silk necktie that Helen had bought for him years ago in Sydney.
His graying hair was cut short, and he wore tortoiseshell-framed eyeglasses, which Mido had selected for him, saying they made him look younger and more modern.
It would have been difficult for any stranger to know that six days a week, John Koh managed his sister-in-law’s nail salon in Buena Park, surrounded by dozens of nail technicians and as many customers.
“Dad looks sharp,” DH said to Bo and Peter. “And nice job on the glasses, Mido.”
Mido gave a thumbs-up. “He’s never needed them before, but I guess he’s getting older.”
“He looks like an architect,” Bo said. “Or maybe a lawyer?”
“Your dad always looks nice,” Yun said, and Nari waved her hand in disagreement.
“No, no. Sometimes Bo’s father, I mean Elder Koh, looks so tired. But today, in that suit, he’s a twin of that actor, Lee Seung-han!” she said, snapping her fingers, pleased with herself for getting it right. “Yes! Exactly like Lee Seung-han in Trees Without Leaves.”
Nari’s encyclopedic recall of shows and actor names was masterful.
Her customers, coworkers, and church friends turned to her when they forgot the plot of a drama or which actor played whom.
For fun, they’d quiz her and marvel at her knowledge.
They called her the Drama Dosa. Yun was pretty good for her generation, but no one could beat her mother.
At Yun’s puzzled expression, Nari slapped her daughter’s upper arm in frustration.
“Yaah, how can you forget that one? It’s the one where Lee plays a surgeon from a big hospital in Seoul, but when he goes to a rural hospital to help a medical school classmate, there’s a train crash and he gets amnesia.
Years later, his wife finds out that he started another life with a woman in a rural beach town.
The two women end up becoming friends, but then the second wife gets sick, and the first wife cares for her but the woman dies anyway.
Go Jiyon plays the first wife, and she was amazing.
I think I cried in every episode.” Nari tapped the table for emphasis.
“They suffer so much, and the second woman dies only after the surgeon gets his memory back. Too sad, but—”
“Umma, is this when I was in college? I might’ve been studying for exams.”
“No, no. You were in middle school. We saw it in Korea right before we came here. The surgeon forgot that he was a famous doctor—the first in his medical school class and speaks perfect German—and he’s working as a fisherman in this rural village, and his second wife, who is played by Hong Haera. So beautiful—”
“Umma.” Yun interrupted again, pointing to Lion, who was standing and holding a glass.
“Let’s toast first, then we can learn about the surgeon-fisherman who regains his memory,” DH said.
Bo grinned. “Lion’s so polite, waiting for his mother-in-law to finish the plot summary.” Everyone enjoyed teasing Nari, who loved the good-natured attention.
Lion was comfortable speaking in public.
As the proprietor of two important hagwons in Orange County, he had to address assemblies of students and parents regularly.
He always thought out what he was going to say well before he uttered a word, and he never spoke more than he had to.
Now that he was a successful business owner and also the youngest elder at the largest Korean church in Southern California, he thought even more carefully about what he would say because people sought his advice routinely and not only listened to him but often quoted him.
Lion checked to see if everyone had a glass before beginning.
“We are celebrating two important dates in October 1978. On the first of October, our Mido was born, and on the ninth, my wife, Yun, was born. This month, our favorite young women turn twenty-seven. Happy birthday, Mido and Yun.” Lion raised his glass, and everyone followed to toast them, but he remained standing and looked expectantly at Yun.
Yun smiled and stood up.
“Lion and I are going to have a baby in twenty-two weeks.”
“How could you not tell me, you terrible girl?” Nari said, bursting into tears and embracing Yun’s waist. “I thought you had gained a few pounds, but you were pregnant! Umma is so happy!”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
Lion beamed and looked tenderly at Yun. “We wanted to wait until everything was more certain this time.”
Throughout the meal and even after the candles were blown out, Nari couldn’t stop crying.
“I am blessed. I am blessed. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord,” she repeated, and Yun wept with her mother until Lion threatened to sing every U2 song he knew by heart.
When dinner ended, Lion and Yun took Nari and Ginny home, and Bo offered to drive his father home before heading back to Westwood.
In the parking lot, DH turned to Peter.
“Eight ball. Best out of three. Twenty bucks.”
“You will lose your hard-earned money, Counselor. You had how many beers?” Peter said, laughing. “Let’s go.”
Mido followed Bo and their father, but DH stopped her.
“I think you should hang with us.”
John waved her toward them. “Go. Go play with DH and Peter.”
Mido made a face. “I’m twenty-seven, not seven.”
“But you’re the killer at pool,” DH said. “You can help me beat this guy.”
Peter laughed. “Doubtful. Remember, I live with that pool table.”
DH turned to Bo. “You want to join after dropping Dad off?”
“Can’t. Have to read two books by next Friday and write a paper for a seminar. Plus exams to grade for my intro class. You kids go ahead. Play is important for growth.”
Peter saluted Bo, and mockingly, DH bowed deeply from the waist to his older brother. “Good to have a future shrink in the family. Glad to know you are thinking of my mental growth.”
“Maybe just growth,” Bo said, smiling, and to Mido, “If you hang out with these young men, make sure they don’t drink too much. DH doesn’t get out of the office very often, who knows what he’ll do.”
“I will take responsibility for your siblings,” Peter said to Bo in Korean. With each other, they had been speaking in English mostly, but in Korean, the teasing sounded more serious in the honorific form.
Bo placed his hands on Mido’s shoulders.
“Go ahead. Otherwise it would be three Kohs against one Son.” Bo tried to look fierce with Peter but broke into a grin.
“Why am I being bullied by the Koh family?” Peter asked.
“You might as well be a Koh,” Bo said.
DH laughed in agreement, woozy and happy. He’d begun drinking beers well before dinner.
Mido handed her bag of presents to Bo, and he packed it in the trunk of his car. John got in the passenger seat and said goodbye, and the three young people bowed their heads in the direction of the car as it drove away.
“I want to watch a movie,” DH declared. “I want to play pool, drink more beer, eat tteokbokki, and watch a movie.” He was reciting all the things they used to do when he and Peter were college roommates. “And RedCard. I want to play RedCard.”
“He’s drunk,” Peter said to Mido. “Your brother only wants to play RedCard when he’s drunk.”
Mido looked confused.
“It’s a video game.”
When they walked into Peter’s house, the living room was immaculate, same as before—almost as if no one lived there. A blue cashmere throw was folded in a tidy square stack just the way Mido remembered from last time.
“Your house is so clean,” DH said. “My roommates are disgusting. Nice dudes but appalling housekeepers. Oh, yeah, Mido, I almost forgot. Nick, the one who works at McKinsey, needs a date for a wedding. I promised I’d ask. He saw your picture.”
“What?” Peter said. “You’re setting up your sister?”
“No, no. He just doesn’t have time to find a nice woman to go with, and he can’t go stag, or he’ll get shit from his frat brothers. He’s a good guy. You know Nick Yang.”
“You’re living with Nick Yang?” Peter said. “From Andover? Did I know that?”
“No. He just got here. Sean was transferred to Dubai, and we needed a fourth. Besides, he’s never home. None of us are ever home. All we ever do is fucking work. Beer please. One more makes a six-pack.”
Peter handed him an open bottle but didn’t take one himself. Mido raised her hand, and he gave her one. She shook her head when he offered her a glass.
“You want to meet him?” DH asked Mido.
“He’s okay,” Peter said. “No rock star, though.”
DH laughed. “He’s not bad-looking. I mean not as hot as me, but I’m your brother, so it might be weird to see me that way. But plenty of women do see me that way, I should add.”
Mido made a face like she smelled something bad.
“Makes good money, obviously. But has zero time. I think I’ve seen him maybe once or twice since he moved to LA.
I know he’s working right this minute. On a Sunday night.
I guess I should be working, too, but it’s your birthday, and my baby sister should be celebrated.
” He raised his beer to Mido. “Anyway, let me know, and I’ll text Nick Yang right now. ”
“I don’t think so,” Mido said. “Not looking for anyone, but thanks.”
“Your loss,” DH said. “He wants to marry a nice Korean girl. The hot girls at Andover used to fall all over themselves for him, but he was saving himself for his wife. Now he’s ended up saving himself for McKinsey.”
Peter rolled his eyes.
“Let’s play pool,” Mido said.
In half an hour, she beat both men twice and picked up $40. DH added one more beer to his total and stumbled upstairs to the guest room to sleep them off. Peter offered to drive Mido home.
In the kitchen, Mido took her jacket and purse from the chair where she’d left them, and she turned around to find Peter standing right behind her.
“Whoa,” she said, surprised. “You ready?”
Peter was quiet, as if he was thinking.
“Never mind,” he said at last.
“I’m a really good pool player. I know,” she said, smiling. He looked so serious that she felt the need to make a joke.
He took a breath.
“May I?” he asked, his face near hers, and Mido nodded.