“At least he’s off the streets.”
“At least. We’re here,” I stated as we pulled up to my parent's house. My mother and father’s vehicles were parked in their driveway, so I parked at the curb in front of their house.
“This seems like a nice neighborhood,” Angela stated as she exited the car, looking around.
“Too quiet,” I grunted, placing my hand on the small of her back.
“You would say that,” she laughed.
“Seriously, no sirens within a five-block radius of this place. How on Earth is a guy supposed to sleep in all that quiet?”
She covered her mouth, laughing while holding the platter of tarts in her other hand. “You’re going to make me drop these. That would not be a good way to start this evening.”
I shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
We reached the door, and I knocked. I had keys to my parents’ home, but they were for use only in cases of an emergency. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Angela pat down her hair, and smooth down the edges of her dress.
“You look fine,” I leaned down and said in her ear. I nipped her earlobe for good measure, causing her to giggle. At that same moment, my mother opened the door. Angela gasped. I looked down at my petite mother’s stern face.
“Hey, Ma,” I greeted.
I watched as her sepia eyes carefully assessed Angela from head to toe, pausing when they looked over Angela’s hair. Her face didn’t soften until she turned her attention to me. The edges of her eyes crinkled, revealing the age lines she’s developed over time. Her dark hair was cut into a short style a few inches above her shoulders but framed her face. Some greying strands were apparent. I bent down, pulling my mother into a warm hug.
“Eric,” she said, cupping my face with her hands.
“Ma, I want you to meet Angela.” I stepped back, wrapping my arm around Angela’s waist, pulling her to me.
“Hi, Mrs. Kim, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Eric has told me so much about you. Thank you for having me over. I brought a little something for dessert,” Angela started.
“Thank you,” my mother responded rather curtly, before looking back to me. “Come in. It’s been so long since you’ve been over to the house.” She wrapped her arms around my free arm.
“Ma, I was here a couple of weeks ago.”
“Much too long. A lot can happen in a couple of weeks. Anyway …” she waved her hand around dismissively, “your grandmother is here. She’s in the living room with your father. Go in and say hello. Dinner’s almost ready. Oh, let me take those,” she said to Angela, retrieving the platter of tarts.
I escorted Angela toward the living room where I first saw my father seated watching a baseball game.
“Happy birthday, Dad.” I went to him, and we embraced. “Dad, this is Angela,” I introduced.
“Nice to meet you. Happy birthday, Mr. Kim.”
“Thank you. A pleasure to meet you as well.” His reaction was different than the somewhat cold reception my mother had given Angela just moments before. He and I stood shoulder to shoulder when he turned, grinning at me. “Your mother was starting to think you wouldn’t come.”
I frowned. “Why would she think that? We’re not even that late.” I checked the watch on my wrist. It was a little after six-thirty.
“You know how your mother is.” He waved his hand. “Say hello to your halmoni.”
I turned. “Halmoni,” I greeted my grandmother in Korean, bending down to hug her and kiss on the cheek in the comfortable chair she sat in. “Grandma, I want you to meet Angela.”
“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
My eighty-five-year-old grandmother may’ve looked frail, but her eyes held a keenness. She eyed Angela much the same way my mother had at the door. Thankfully, my grandmother’s gaze softened, and she gave Angela a small smile.
“Thank you.” My grandmother didn’t like to speak much in English, so she kept her introductions short.
Just then the doorbell rang. I peered over at my father. “Who’s that?”
He gave me a puzzled look, shrugging. “I have no idea,” he stated but began moving toward the doorway to answer.
