It’s then that I notice how much my style has changed in theshort time I’ve been here. I still care about my looks, but in a more subdued, practical way. I’ve set aside my pigmented matte lipsticks and sleek ponytails for soft lip tints and beachy waves. I replaced my patent leather stilettos and lace bodysuits with sensible slides and fitted T-shirts. And I’ve completely abandoned my bracelets and belts since they get in the way when I’m doing chores around the house. What am I supposed to do with all these things? I glance over at Mom and Dad, who haven’t made much more progress than I have. Their things have been sorted into piles like mine. When Gavin announces dinner is ready, we decide to leave our stuff scattered across the living room and finish organizing after we eat.
At the kitchen table, Gavin makes a show of presenting to us his latest creation. But instead of the expected bulgogi, he reveals a plate of something else.
“Hamburgers?” Dad looks up questioningly.
“Something wrong with hamburgers?” Concern crosses Gavin’s face.
“From the smell, that’s not what I thought it would be,” Mom says.
“I used bulgogi marinade in the seasoning of the meat patties. That’s why it smells familiar,” Gavin explains. “They’re bulgogi burgers.”
“Yum,” I say, hearing two different but quintessentially classic cultural dishes combined into one. What’s not to like?
“I’m still playing with the recipe, so I made way too much.” Gavin sits down to join us.
“It’s better than not having enough,” Dad says.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” I say as my stomach growls hungrily.
“I used your kimchi to make an aioli,” Gavin says to Mom. “Let me know what you think.”
Our eyes widen with interest, staring at the red sauce oozing out of the sides. We eagerly grab a burger each and put them on our plates. But before we can take our first bites, we hear a car door close outside our house.
“Are we expecting anyone?” Dad asks, looking around.
When the three of us shake our heads, he gets up and peeks outside. “It’s the mayor!” He startles, hiding behind the door.
“What?” Mom jolts up. “I wasn’t expecting company.” She frantically looks around the house. Items are strewn about in disarray.
Gavin and I stare at each other, confused. “Where are you going?” Gavin asks Dad, who disappears into the room.
“I’m getting my jacket on. I can’t let him see me like this.”
“Good idea. I’ll hide these secondhand plates.” Mom scrambles to stuff them into a kitchen cupboard.
“Why does any of this matter?” Gavin’s brows furrow. “We’ve lost everything, but no one here knows that.”
It doesn’t surprise me that Gavin says this. Between the two of us, he’s been the more sensible one. But in this instance I find myself agreeing with him.
“Everyone here lives like this. And besides that, what’s there to be embarrassed about? Like you said, we have everything we need. Isn’t that what’s important?” I remind them of what they chided us over when we first got here.
“We may be okay with living like this, but I’m trying to conduct business in this town. We can’t be seen living like everyone else,” Dad says. “What kind of example would I be setting?”
“And if food is what we’re trying to sell, then we can’t be seen eating like beggars,” Mom adds.
“Excuse me?”Gavin’s head jerks back. “Were you lying to me earlier when you said it looked good?”
“No, of course not. But people eat with their eyes, and with mismatched plates and off-brand silverware, they won’t give the food a fair valuation.” Mom frets.
“The mayor has so much influence. This is so not how I wanted our business to be introduced to the town.” Deep creases line Dad’s forehead and eyes.
For all their talk about perspective, my parents don’t seem to have a clear one now. But ready or not, a knock at the door comes, and with all our lights on and the obvious noise we’re making, Dad has no choice but to open the door.
“Mayor Beecham.” Dad immediately straightens his posture at the sight of him. “Dr.Blaire. What a nice surprise. Please come in.”
“Don’t mind if I do, Dale.” The mayor’s voice booms from behind the front door. Like his voice, he has a big presence.
“Sorry to barge in like this.” Then Dr.Blaire says much quieter, “Daniel, honey, they’re sitting down to dinner.”
