“Fine,” he agrees. “You can come with me tomorrow to meet Brennan.”
I squeal. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Then I do something really out of character. I hug Gavin.
Of course Gavin is awkward after the hug and fidgets with his sleeve.
—
Mom and Dad come home a few hours later with some items that aren’t too exciting but do help improve the place. Like curtains that functionally work but fashionably miss the mark and area rugs that are in not-great condition but a step up from the shag carpet that needs replacing.
Dad makes Gavin go with him to clear the rest of the weeds from the field while there’s still daylight, and Mom makes me help her with dinner in the kitchen. Today I cut the tip of my middle finger with a knife, nearly burn myself with the wire rack in the oven while pulling out a baking sheet, and singe my hair on the stove while stirring a pot too closely. I know I told Gavin I’d keep his secret for him, but it would do both of us a huge favor if he would just come clean about his culinary skills. The only success I have in the kitchen today is not getting criticized by Mom. Since they returned, she’s seemed distracted, preoccupied with her thoughts. Even at dinner she’s quiet.
“I had a great time at the farmer’s market with Callie today,” I say in an attempt at small talk with my parents.
“That’s nice,” Mom says, more interested in the contents of her bowl than in continuing the conversation.
Gavin shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the awkward silence. “Elena and I are going to get a tour of the lab tomorrow,” he adds. I can tell he’s as desperate as I am to make this less weird.
“Tomorrow?” Dad startles, looking up from his plate. “We’ll be busy preparing the field so we can start planting as soon as we figure out what the people here like to eat.”
Mom’s head jerks back. “What happened to growing ingredients to make kimchi and side dishes for other meals?” Mom raises her voice. “What happened to that plan?”
“Gloria, I know what I’m doing. Just leave it to me to take care of it.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Remember the last time you said you’d take care of everything?” Mom levels her gaze, matching Dad’s intensity.
“What’s gotten into you? This is the way it always was in Anbandegi.”
“Well, this isn’t Anbandegi. And that was almost thirty years ago, Dale. Things have changed. For such an ambitious man, how can you think so small?”
Mom and Dad have been doing this a lot lately. Bickering. I can hear them through the paper-thin walls at night after Gavin falls asleep. I can tell he’s not used to hearing them argue by the way he’s staring deep into his plate, trying to tune it out. It goes without saying that I’m not as good at pretending as Gavin is, so I can’t help but speak up when the opportunity strikes.
“Why does it matter what other people like?” I ask. “We’re not hosting dinner parties here, so who cares what we grow?”
“The farm can provide for us, sure. But I’ve been thinking about how it can help us on a larger scale. The profit from selling produce can pay for the expenses it takes to run a farm, like water, fertilizer, and equipment.”
“Ew, can we please not sayfertilizerat the dinner table?” I wrinkle my nose and set my fork down.
“The point is, the farm could provide for us in a bigger way, with enough left over to buy the ingredients for kimchi and whatever else you want to make,” he says to Mom.
“It’s not what we had planned for,” Mom says, disappointed.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says earnestly. “I made the mistakes that got us here. And now I am accepting responsibility for it. By monetizing the farm, we’ll have a side income to supplement my salary when I go back to working at It’s Ok! so you don’t have to work again.” Dad announces this like it’s a good thing. Mom’s face suggests otherwise.
“Are you at least going to let us know what the plan is?” Mom asks, irritated.
“I’ve been paying attention, and the people here are American to the core. They like potatoes and corn, not kimchi and kalbi. A bit late in the season, so we have some catching up to do. So don’t make too many plans with your new friends,” he warns Gavin.
It’s just like Dad to think he knows about this town without actually getting to know the people who live in it.
“Sounds like you thought of everything. Guess there’s nothing left for me to do. Again.” Mom drops her spoon in her empty bowl with a loud clank.
“Yep, I’ve got it all under control,” Dad says, completely oblivious to Mom’s passive-aggressive behavior. “With Gavin’s help, we can meet the people and build the relationships we need to grow a successful farm and business.”
“It’s settled, then,” she says. “You and Gavin figure out the farm, and Elena and I will do the housework. I’m tired of doing both jobs anyway.” She sighs.
Dread floods me. More time in the kitchen with Mom? That won’t end well.
“How about this?” I say, suddenly coming up with a plan. “Before you start planting, why don’t we find out what the people here want instead of guessing? Callie’s family is in a farming co-op with two other families here. Farming is a side job, and they sell what theymake to the cafe. I can introduce you to them to get their input on what needs they have.”
