He releases a laugh and gives a shake of his head as if in disbelief of me and in love with me all at once. Then he slides the ring onto my finger where it belongs and scoops me up into his arms. I’m suddenly whisked off my feet as he spins me around, and I let out my own shriek of laughter.
Other people on the pier have taken notice, slowing down as it dawns on them what they’re witnessing. Applause and cheers and whoops and whistles follow as a crowd quicklygathers. Some pull out their phones to capture pictures and record the moment.
It barely registers until Jin’s set me back on my feet and we look over to find a whole audience watching and beaming at us.
“Looks like we’re about to go viral on social media,” I say.
“I can see the captions now,” he answers. “Tattooed Korean gangster proposes to sweet Black woman at the pier.”
I giggle. “I hope they tag me.”
“I just can’t believe it,” Mom gushes for what has to be the fifteenth time since we sat down to dinner, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “My baby, back with her man. I prayed and prayed, you know. Every night. I said, ‘Lord, I know you have a plan, and I trust in your timing, but if you could see fit to knock some sense into those two stubborn children of mine, I would surely appreciate it.’”
“Mom,” I groan, half amused and half exhausted. “You’ve mentioned the praying. Several times.”
“Because it worked! That’s what I keep telling you, Moni.” She gestures at Jin, who’s sitting across from me at her dining room table looking remarkably at ease despite being the subject of my mother’s enthusiastic monologue. “Look at him, sitting there, eating my catfish like he belongs here. Because he does belong here. He’sfamily.”
“Or he’s just hungry and your cooking is that good,” I offer.
Mom scoffs. “Nonsense. This is all part of God’s plan.”
But regardless of what she says, the spread she’s laid out is impressive even by her standards. She’s made crispy fried catfish, golden baked mac and cheese, tangy coleslaw,homemade cornbread,andhas a banana pudding waiting in the fridge for dessert.
It’s the kind of dinner that’ll have us in deep hibernation tonight.
Jin catches my eye across the table, a glimmer of amusement in his dark almond-shaped eyes, despite his polite and attentive demeanor. He’s been a remarkably good sport about Mom’s rambling, nodding and murmuring agreement in all the right places.
It makes me love him even more for it.
“Actually, Mom,” I say, “there’s something we wanted to tell you.”
She freezes with a forkful of mac and cheese halfway to her mouth. “What? What is it? Are you pregnant? Lord, I knew it, I knew?—”
“Whoa, slow down. I’mnotpregnant,” I interrupt quickly, before she can spin off into another tangent. I hold up my left hand to show off the ring on my finger. “But weareengaged. Again.”
The fork clatters to the plate. Mom’s hand flies to her chest, clutching at the fabric of her blouse like she’s gone into cardiac arrest. “Engaged? ENGAGED? You’ve been here for an hour and you’re just now telling me this? You’re telling me that man proposed and you said yes and I’m just hearing about this NOW?”
“It happened this afternoon,” Jin offers. “At the waterfront.”
“The waterfront!” Mom fans herself with her napkin and gives an impressed nod. “Great location! Oh, how romantic! Did I tell you me and your father’s first date was there? We shared a funnel cake.”
The rest of dinner passes with Mom’s walk down memory lane and us stuffing our faces with the amazing food she’s prepared. By the time we’ve cleared our plates of dinner andhave moved onto the banana pudding, I’m so full I can barely handle a couple bites.
At the end, Mom hasn’t even had a chance to rise out of her seat before Jin’s insisting he clears the table and washes the dishes.
“It’s customary as a guest,” he says. “As a thank you for this delicious meal, Daisha.”
Mom shoots me another impressed look as she follows him into the kitchen.
I hang back for a moment and watch Jin at the sink, unruly hair on his brow and hands submerged in soapy water, and I can’t help smiling to myself.
People who fear the great Silent Hunter, the Baekho-je of the Baekho Pa himself, would never believe he’s so respectful and dutiful in his private life.
They’d be astonished to learn how charming he can be in his own way as he scrubs at the plates and entertains my mother’s latest story. She talks his ear off and yet he attentively listens, interjecting with smart quips that make her laugh and show how important she is to him.
He fits into my family like we were always meant to be.
It’s crazy when I think about the obstacles that tried to prevent it from happening. From the two of us being together and finding our happy ending.
