She looked at him with an amused expression. “No,” she replied.
“Then how do you—” He paused. She studied him quizzically. He blushed and held her gaze.
“You pick a point and focus on it,” she said. Her cheeks were flushed. Others might think it was from exerting herself on the trampoline, but I could tell they were pink from being near this new acquaintance.
“I can only do one,” he said.
“Okay, show me,” she said. Then she linked her arm through mine. “Dahee wants to see, too.” She was smiling at him. I pretended to show interest for her sake.
“Are you ready?” he asked. He took a few steps from us.
“You should be fine. There’s nothing to break here,” Channing said. “Except your neck.”
“Better than my heart,” he replied without hesitation.
I rolled my eyes. Minjae got her sense of humor, which was rare. She seemed intrigued. She stepped closer to him. “I can spot you if you want.”
Minjae’s blush spread to his hairline. He was speechless. After a pause, Channing said, “Let’s see what you can do.”
In one swift motion, he raised both arms, bent his knees, and flipped backward away from us. He wobbled on his landing.
Channing applauded. I would have, too, except I heard the children’s voices rise behind us. They were both jumping now and bumping into each other as they bounced on the trampoline, so I called through the netting for them to stop.
“We don’t have to listen to you,” Edison said, and pushed his brother down. Austin protested with a yelp as he landed on his bottom.
Channing whirled around and stepped up the ladder, parted the net. “Hey, you do have to listen to Dahee. Come on, off, both of you, let’s go! Food’s probably ready.”
We all turned our heads toward the grill, where Paul was standing with my grandfather and Mr. Yun. Minjae raised his hand and Paul held his up in return. Channing widened the opening in the net for the children to exit.
“Is that really a sign to eat?” Austin asked when he reached me. “It looked like a regular wave.”
“I never heard of it.” His brother came up alongside.
“It could be,” I replied, and walked off. The children and I were well behind my cousin and Minjae when I saw him stumble into a stray lawn chair in the middle of the yard. Channing reached out and grabbed his arm to keep him from falling. From there they ended up holding hands and then let go. It was so brief that I wondered if it had been a trick of the eye.
I didn’t have time to think of it any further. I was overwhelmed again by the sense that I’d been here before, at this exact moment, with these same people.
Before we reached the others on the deck by the house, Channing dropped back and walked alongside me. She said, “Do I look okay?” I didn’t know what she meant. “Like is my hair okay?” she said, and swept a hand nervously through her dark brown strands. “I need to cut my bangs.”
Ahead of us, Minjae had paused and glanced back. He brushed his hand over his head, as if Channing touching her hair was a signal to him that something was wrong with his hair—the way someone who sat across from you might notice you have a spot of ketchup on your face, so they touch their face and then you touch your face and feel that dried spot of ketchup. I told her she looked fine, and she gave me a grateful smile and hurried to join Minjae again.
I walked on alone toward the terrace where Paul was holding the infant. The parents were nowhere in sight. “You look like you have one of your own somewhere,” I said.
Paul frowned. “Me? This is just because my brother and his partner in Seattle have a couple of these, so I’ve got practice. Now who would my wife be?”
The woman who had entered the yard with Paul and Minjae walked over to us, so I said, “Her?”
“Sorry, I can see why you’d think that, but really? We’re cousins.” He sputtered in laughter and then his face straightened. My cheeks must have reddened because he looked guilty as he looked up to the sky, probably to avoid meeting my eyes.
“Cousins like you and Channing,” the petite woman said as she approached. She must have heard us. “I’m Amy, ‘Ames’ to my friends. Don’t believe anything Paul tells you.” She didn’t wait for a reply as shecontinued on her way toward Channing, who was standing by the side of the terrace.
“Do I call her Amy then?” I asked Paul.
He shook his head. “She’ll hate that. Just call her Ames.”
We watched Channing and Ames exchange an awkward greeting from the look on Channing’s face, and then Ames hurried to help her grandfather carry a tray of clam cakes to the table. I decided to believe Paul. Mr. Yun called to everyone to take a seat. I was happier than I had a right to be at the sight of those golden fried rounds landing before my eyes.
Mrs. Yun brought out platters of japchae, two kinds of jeon—seafood and zucchini—and a long row of gimbap. The rice cooker had been unplugged and brought outside. An array of other vegetables on smaller plates filled the table, from spinach and cucumbers to three kinds of kimchi. Fresh romaine lettuce filled a basket with condiments beside it.
