“Yes, he did.”
“It was a good conversation,” she sighed, wiping her hands with a dishtowel. “Probably long overdue. Eric’s father and I weren’t there like we should’ve been when he went through the Academy. I’m sure he’s told you about his schooling and former job.”
I nodded.
“Yes, well, Eric obviously had other plans than what we set out for him. And we’re still coming to terms with that. You just got caught up in the middle of all of that.”
“I see,” I stated, still not really understanding.
“I don’t think you do,” she retorted. “I think once you have children you’ll understand. You do want to have children, right?”
“Yes. Three,” I answered, quickly, then slapped my hand over my mouth.
Mrs. Kim laughed.
“Don’t tell Eric I said that. We haven’t discussed children,” I implored.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” she whispered, laughing.
“Mrs. Kim, I don’t know what it’s like having a son who’s a firefighter, but I do know what it’s like having a father, brother, and now the man I love as firefighters. It’s scary thinking about the fact that every time they go to work, they put themselves in harm’s way. I’ve seen the bruises he walks away with, and it makes my heart stop.”
Mrs. Kim gasped slightly.
“I’m sorry. I didn't?”
She waved my apology off. “No, it’s okay. Well, it’s notokay.His job terrifies me. My husband and I intended for him to grow up and taking over as CFO of Townsend Industries once his father retired. And if not there, somewhere else.”
I remained silent, nodding.
“But he had other plans.” His mother lips pursed, her eyes appearing regretful, making me even sadder.
“Mrs. Kim, I know you and I didn’t get off to the greatest start, and I wouldn’t presume to know more about your son than you do, but … Eric was born to be a firefighter. It’s just in him. I see it. The way his eyes light up when he talks about his job. The way he reaches for his radio scanner in the car, even when he’s not on shift. The joy he expresses when talking about his colleagues. Even in how intensely he’s been studying for the lieutenant's exam. He’s a natural. At least from what I see. And it’d be a shame to try to persuade the person I love from not doing what he’s called to do. While his job scares the hell out of me, it also makes him who he is. So I can accept the fear because I wouldn’t want to change him.”
I twisted my fingers in front of me, feeling like once again I over-spoke. Here I was telling a mother about her son, in her kitchen. I was trying to make a good impression, but I couldn’t hold back what was in my heart.
The wrinkle around her eyes increased as she narrowed her gaze at me, folding her arms across her chest. “I think you just might know him better than I do.”
I exhaled, totally not expecting that. I shook my head. “No, I don’t?”
“Yes,” her head bobbed up and down, “you do. That’s what happens when you fall in love with someone. You get to know them inside and out. For the men in his family that seems to happen in a relatively short period.” She let out a sound that strangely mirrored a laugh.
I cracked a smile. “Eric said you and his father married two weeks after meeting each other.”
Her cheeks turned a rose color as she blushed. “It was more like thirteen days. But that’s a story for another time.” She waved her hands around. “Would you like to help me set up the table?”
“Just point me in the direction of the silverware and plates,” I offered.
Ten minutes later the table was covered with the food his mom prepared, and Mr. Kim and Eric sat at the table with us. This night was markedly different than the first time around. Both Mr. and Mrs. Kim asked questions of Eric and I. Not in an interrogative way, but conversationally. I felt more at ease and welcomed. When Eric squeezed my hand under the table, I squeezed his right back feeling as if we successfully passed this little hurdle in our budding relationship.
****
Eric
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I questioned, as we stepped out of the elevator to my floor. Angela’s hand was in mine while her overnight bag was slung over my left shoulder.
“I guess not,” she sing-songed, stepping out in front of me, hands still connected as she twirled herself around. I grinned at how carefree she seemed. A marked difference between the somber mood she was in after we left my parents’ house the last time around.
“I see that look you’re giving me. You’re thinking about the last time we had dinner at your parents, or rather, how that night ended.”
