“A good dad wouldn’t be cruel to his kids’ mom,” Samantha adds quietly. “He’s not a good father if he doesn’t respect and cherish our mother. We’ve been worried about you for so long.”
Julia scrubs new tears away with her sleeve until her mom hands her a handkerchief. She mops her cheeks. “You’re not mad at me for sending him to jail?”
“We’re proud of you,” Molly says fiercely. “He tried to hurt you. And he deserves whatever he gets for all the illegal stuff.”
“We just want you to be happy.” Samantha reaches out and gently touches Julia’s belly. “And it looks like you are. Look at you, Mom. You’re glowing.”
Eomma looks at me with a warmth that makes my tail wag. Samantha translating, she says, “Thank you. For taking care of her. For making her smile again.”
“She’s my mate,” I say simply. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
Molly makes a face. “Okay, don’t be so adorable. Hey, can we eat? The airline food was terrible.”
I laugh and push myself to my feet. “I caught a steelhead yesterday. Let me bring you all some hot drinks and get dinner started.”
“You caught it yourself?” Samantha looks impressed. “Like, in a lake?”
“In the river. I can take you fishing tomorrow if you don’t mind getting up early. Fair warning, it’ll be cold.”
“I want to go!” Molly bounces on her tiptoes when Samantha signs up to go fishing, too.
“As long as Mom doesn’t go into labor tonight, anyway,” she adds.
I leave the four of them to catch up in the living room while I head to the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Their voices carry through the cabin, a blend of laughter and tears and rapid-fire conversation. I can tell from her animated gestures that Julia is telling them about the cabin, about the nursery we’ve set up, about the three little stockings hanging above the fireplace.
Tea made, the dinner comes together quickly. When I bring the plates out to the dining table, all four women look up at me with identical expressions of appreciation. The family resemblance is strong, just like the women themselves.
“Smells amazing,” Samantha says.
“He’s been spoiling me with good food,” Julia says, squeezing my hand. “He makes some of the best pie you’ve ever tasted.”
“There’s pie?” Molly’s eyes go wide. “Can we have dessert first since we’re adults now?”
Julia laughs. “Why not? It’s Christmas.”
Dinner is loud and wonderful. The girls fill us in on their academic pursuits. Eomma peppers me with questions about wulver culture, about my brothers, about how Julia and I met. Julia fills in the gaps, telling the story in two languages with a self-deprecating humor that makes her daughters crack up.
“You hit on the hot wolfman after doing a big bad wolf voice?” Molly is crying with laughter. “Mom, that’s iconic. I wish you had video.”
“I didn’t hit on him! I was mortified!”
“She was adorable,” I correct. “All cute and embarrassed. I was a goner from the first moment.”
After dinner, we move back to the living room for presents. They brought a suitcase full of them: Korean treats and products that are hard to find here, T-shirts for me and Julia from the universitythe girls attend, cute matching jammies for the new babies, beautiful baby blankets Eomma crocheted for the pups. But the main present is a large flat box that they push toward Julia with barely contained excitement.
“Halmi sewed it,” Samantha says. “You have to wear it tonight.”
Julia unwraps it carefully, pulling back the tissue paper to reveal a gorgeous traditional Korean dress in layers of peach and gold. The fabric is silk and embroidered with delicate flowers, and it glows in the firelight.
“Oh,” Julia breathes. “Ahanbok.It’s beautiful.”
“Put it on,” Molly urges, whipping out her phone to record. “Please? We want to take your picture in it.”
Julia hesitates, glancing down at her body. “I don’t know if it’ll fit at this point.”
“It will. Trust us.” Samantha is grinning. “Go try it.”
I help Julia to her feet, and she waddles toward the bedroom, the hanbok garments draped over her arm. The girls watch her go, then turn to me with conspiratorial expressions.
