6
Value
Despite the long flight, Renee emerged from customs looking as if she’d just been to a spa, her dark hair sleek and her unlined face well rested, having slept almost eight hours. Alert and pleased to be out of the airport, Renee focused on her only child.
“It was freezing in Seoul,” she said, staring out the windshield. The Southern California weather never failed to astonish her. “It’s January, and I don’t have to wear a winter coat. Should I move here? Would you like that?”
“Sure,” Peter said. “What would you do, though?” His mother wasn’t serious, not that he would’ve minded.
“I could work on my golf game and fix you dinner.”
Peter smiled. “I get home very late, and you’d be bored in a week.”
“Do you have to go back to work today?” she asked.
“I’m good for the rest of the day.”
“Wonderful. Let’s go to the grocery store. Call your friends. Invite them to dinner.”
Renee removed her dark sunglasses as they entered Zion Market. “Palm trees, sunshine, and all the conveniences of Seoul. So this is why you never come home, and your aging mother has to come all this way to see you.”
“Aging? You’re not even sixty.” Peter pulled out a shopping cart, and Renee dropped her tote into the basket.
“Umma doesn’t look sixty, right?” Renee flexed her left biceps, not waiting for a reply. A trainer came to her home gym twice a week, and she’d been lifting weights. Her lithe form was stronger than it had been in years. “Son, tell me how you are. I want to know everything.”
“I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh?” Renee looked concerned. She had met Cesca briefly, and though she was beautiful and charismatic, things had not gone well. “What does she do?”
“She’s a tutor at the hagwon.”
Renee smiled, relieved. She directed them toward the meat section.
“Not an actor, then.”
“No.”
“Is she nice? What’s she like?”
“You’ll like Mido. She’s great.”
“She’s Korean?”
He nodded. She knew she had to wait until her son wanted to talk more about his girlfriend.
“How long are you staying this time?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Three days. Then I head to New York. I was hoping you might come with me to the East Coast. We can go skating at Rockefeller Center. Remember when—”
“I have work, Umma.”
“Right,” she said, inhaling deeply. “How is that going?”
“I like running the new hagwon.”
“Really?” Renee considered her child’s face. He did seem much happier than the last time she had seen him. It had been almost a year since her previous visit, which had been cut short because of her work. His face looked relaxed and tan. “Tell me all about the hagwon.”
“The kids are good, and they’re improving so much. I find it satisfying to see their progress. Weird. I never thought I’d teach math.”
Renee smiled, thinking the same. Being a mother had surprised her. When he was born, she’d had so many dreams for him, and all of them seemed absurd to her now. His father had wanted him to be a judge or a professor, and she had wanted him to be an athlete because he loved soccer so much.
After her divorce, Peter had become even more private and withdrawn.
It wasn’t until he ran away in England that she’d realized that none of her dreams for him mattered.
She had withdrawn him from the school in Wimbledon.
At Andover, he had flourished. Renee thought her son had achieved some sort of equilibrium, until Peter left Yale and moved to California to be with that actress.
And when Cesca threw him over for another guy, Peter had taken it hard, refusing to leave his apartment or go to school.
When Peter started working at Exodus and transferred to Pomona, absolutely nothing mattered to her except for his well-being.
When her ex-husband got upset with his decision to leave Yale, she told him off. “It’s people like you who make their children crazy.”
“Pomona is good, but he’ll have better options if he finishes Yale,” Peter’s father said. “It has more name value.”
“He’ll have better options if he makes these decisions by himself. You don’t understand him. You don’t even know him,” she said.
“You don’t know how life works.”
“Fine. Our son still talks to me, though,” she said.
As they put the groceries in the trunk, Renee looked up at the blue sky. “This sunshine!”
“You should move here,” Peter said, though that would never happen. His mother adored living in Seoul.
“Maybe I should, just to be close to you.”
“I’d be happy with that.” Peter meant this. He’d always gotten along with his mother.
They drove toward the house, and Renee had to stop herself from commenting again on the weather. Did Californians ever tire of it? “How’s the music going? Any new songs?”
“I’m still writing, but I don’t know. My boss Lion and I play gigs now and then at this restaurant, and we have a good local following. But I’m never going to—you know, make it here. In the States. My father was right. I see that now.”
Renee didn’t say anything. Her son had a remarkable voice, and often, when she watched Music Camp or Music Band at home, she knew her ex-husband had been correct.
If Peter had stayed in Korea, she would have been able to make introductions to television studios and record companies, and once he got his chance, the fans would have probably loved him: He had the same kind of charisma and singing style that was popular on those hit shows.
No one could become a star just from having contacts, but in Korea, he would have had a chance.
“You don’t want to come back home?” she asked.
“To Seoul? Oh, no. I like it here.”
“I miss you,” she said. “Your mother”—Renee tapped her chest—“would like to see you all the time.”
Peter smiled, having heard this ever since he left Seoul when he was a child.
It was an exceptional privilege to study abroad, and both his parents had done the same, but Peter hadn’t been sure if he was suited for it.
Whenever he was in Korea, he felt observed and judged. Here he could just be Peter.
“I know you are an adult. I’d leave you alone in Seoul. Just once a week,” she promised with a smile. “Saturday brunch at my house.”
“We talk several times a week,” Peter said as he pulled into the driveway.
“We send text messages several times a week,” she corrected him. “We might talk on the phone once a week for maybe five minutes? Not enough. Not enough for this mother.”
“You know who wants to go back?” Peter asked.
Renee narrowed her eyes, trying to guess.
“DH. He’s interviewing with a big firm in Seoul that’s looking for corporate associates from the States.”
“Really?” She looked thoughtful, handing him a bag of groceries from the trunk. “No problem. I’ll call our general counsel. They use all the best firms in Seoul.”
“Yeah? I know you don’t usually like doing that sort of thing.”
“Anything for DH. He’s your best friend, and I’m sure he’s a good lawyer.
Korea needs more kids like him to come back.
All these young people keep leaving.” Renee shook her head, repeating what her friends and colleagues were saying back home.
She felt old-fashioned for echoing the sentiment, but what would happen to Korea if all the young people left?
Why weren’t there enough opportunities for the next generation?
She didn’t want well-off families like hers to be removed from the realities of ordinary people.
If her grandfather and grandmother hadn’t been so brave and industrious, she wouldn’t have had it so easy.
“Can I tell him that you’ll make a call?”
“No, don’t do that. Make him come to dinner tonight.”
“I’ll see if he can get out of work.”
“I’m going to get him a job,” she announced. “And invite the girlfriend,” she added.
“My girlfriend?” Peter pointed to himself.
“Yes, and if DH has one, then her, too. Invite everyone. I bought enough food for a dozen people.”
“Mido is DH’s younger sister.”
“Oh, right!” Renee slapped her thigh. “The one who put him through law school. You told me about his younger sister, but I’ve never met her. And I’ve only spoken to Bo on the phone. Can he come to dinner?”
“I don’t know. Everyone might be busy. It’s very last minute.”
“I want to see Mido’s parents, too.” Renee stopped, remembering that DH’s mother had passed away. “Helen. She was such a nice woman. I remember her from graduation. How is DH’s father doing? Is he okay?”
“He manages a nail salon. With Lion’s wife’s mother.”
“Oh?”
“It’s nice. DH’s aunt owns it.”
“Invite them, too.”
Peter looked at his watch. It wasn’t even one o’clock.
He called everyone. My mom is here, and she’s cooking. She wants you to come to dinner.
Renee said to be flexible about the arrival time, but dinner would be served at 7:30 p.m. The guys said yes.
Yun, heavy in her third trimester, begged off.
In the evenings, she was too sleepy to stay out, but she insisted that Lion go.
John and Nari were working late, and Sonya, who was still visiting from Seoul, was at the shop with them.
Renee got to work, marinating bulgogi meat and preparing two kinds of stew before she started on a cake, which took the longest. While she cooked, she asked Peter to put on recordings of his latest songs.
When the bell rang, the guest Peter expected to arrive last came first.
“DH!” Renee shouted, and opened her arms.
“Renee Ajumma!” DH yelled back, bolting into the house like a child.
He ran to hug her. He’d known her since he was a boy and felt closer to her than to his aunt, who was a wonderful person but not nearly as fun as Renee Ajumma, who knew music from every era and old American films and had a surprisingly broad and deep knowledge of cars.
Moreover, Renee knew more about baseball and soccer than any man and understood the finer points of boxing, tennis, golf, squash, archery, and rowing.
She could remember the details of nearly every Olympics in her lifetime.
In Renee’s home office, her shelves were stocked with prized sports paraphernalia, gifts from professional players and team owners.
She was the only girl in the third generation of a family with a major tire conglomerate, which was now publicly traded.
Because of her excellent manners and English skills, the leaders of her family’s company had liked to have her attend important meetings with foreign dignitaries and key overseas chief executives because she could talk to men about cars and sports—safe topics, and she never said the wrong thing.
Lovely and elegant, and always appropriate, despite her divorce, she was treated like the family jewel.
None of the daughters-in-law, even the ones from the more prestigious Korean families, could compare with Renee.
Of course, everyone hoped that Peter, Renee’s only son, would join the company.
He wouldn’t be considered the successor, because each of Renee’s three brothers had several children, and there were four cousins from her uncle’s side.
Nevertheless, the company would make room for Peter high up in the organizational chart if he returned.
DH put on an apron and started helping Renee.
An hour later, Lion and Mido arrived together, and as usual, Mido held back, remaining quiet. Renee didn’t miss this. Bo called to apologize because he couldn’t make it after all.
As the sheet cake cooled, Renee enlisted Mido to make the frosting, handing her the confectioners’ sugar, cream cheese, and butter.
“Peter told me about all the wonderful things you’ve done for your family,” Renee said to Mido in her British English. “I admire you.”
Mido shook her head to deflect the compliment and continued to mix the ingredients.
“You look a great deal like your mother, who I liked so much. We met at DH’s graduation.”
Only a few people ever remarked on that. The resemblance was striking around the jawline.
“Peter said you’re an extraordinary teacher, able to reach the most difficult pupils.”
Mido felt shy, unable to speak to this worldly person, who seemed to envelop everyone in the room with her charisma and warmth.
“I know we’ll be good friends,” Renee said.
“My mother never cooked. I doubt she knew where the kitchen was,” she said, laughing.
“I always loved being in the kitchen, so I learned how to make everything from our family cook. Korean food is healthy, and whenever I’m away and don’t eat it regularly, I don’t feel well.
That’s why I hired Mrs. Ma for Peter. Her cooking is very good, don’t you think? ”
Mido had never met anyone like Renee. This felt like talking to a well-off Western woman rather than any of her mother’s friends or relatives. Renee was open about her privileged background. Peter was much more reserved.
“Do you like to cook?” Renee asked her.
“I do, but I don’t have a lot of time. Once a week, I prepare three large meals and pack them up in smaller containers. I freeze a lot of dinners,” Mido said.
“When I cook, it feels like a holiday. When Peter lived at home, I didn’t cook every day. The cook did, but I’d make his favorite dishes at least once a week, and always his birthday cake, a chocolate sheet cake with cream cheese frosting. I’ve seen him eat a whole one throughout the day.”
“When is Peter’s birthday? He won’t tell me.”
“Tomorrow!” Renee said. “That’s why I came. Oh, Peter,” she sighed, looking in his direction. He was laughing with Lion and DH.
“I had no idea.”
“He doesn’t like anyone to make a fuss.”
Both women looked in his direction. Mido said, “I didn’t even know how old he was until DH told me. His birthday is tomorrow? Wow.”
Renee smiled, remembering the icy January morning when her labor pains began. Then, almost a full day later, she became a mother.
“I see your frosting is almost done.”
Mido looked down at the bowl of creamy white frosting.
Renee slathered a dollop of frosting on the cake and began to spread it evenly.
“No one in the family likes chocolate cake except for Peter and me. They always say it’s too sweet, but I don’t think so.” Renee smiled brightly.
Her excitement was infectious, and Mido smiled back. Her mother had cooked nearly every day but never baked. Birthday cake had been store-bought, and if they had dessert, it was fresh fruit. But her mother had loved cake, too.
As she watched Renee bustling about the kitchen, Mido felt like she understood Peter a little better. He wasn’t just a guy who was good at math and singing; he was Renee’s cherished son.