“Makes no sense. Why is he still pursuing her?”
“Mrs. Ku will help us and Kent. She wants to introduce him to a friend’s daughter from Philadelphia.”
I told Harabeoji how I’d run into Kent at the park. “He asked about Channing’s health, so I think he believes my story about her not being able to have babies. It was eerie that he was there right when I was though, at the camp, I mean.”
“It’s his project, that’s why. He wants everyone to see the mayor having a big impact. Kent wants to be mayor one day, Mrs. Ku told me.”
“That tracks. Power and all that comes with it. You know, that’s good for us. Channing would be a horrible mayor’s wife, can you imagine? We have to remind him of that.”
“Good point. He’ll need someone who wants that, too, a public life. But there’s one more thing—”
“So then we can leave, tomorrow? What time would you be ready?” I asked.
“Ooree Dahee-ya.”
My heart dropped. When Harabeoji said my name like that with the Korean wordourbefore it and the little endearmentyaat the end, I knew he was about to tell me something important. It was his way of taking a breath and preparing himself. My hands tingled with nervousness. I clasped them together, and I replied immediately with, “Should I drive over there? Should we talk about this in person?”
“Is Channing with you now?” he asked.
I told him she was still out with Minjae and swiped my phone’s screento find her location. She was thirty minutes away. It was getting close to the boys’ pick-up time from camp. She’d have to hurry to make it.
“About Minjae,” Harabeoji began.
“Go ahead.” Not only was he going to tell me something important, I knew it was going to be bad news by the hesitation in his voice.
“Mrs. Ku said he’s engaged to a woman in Korea. The families are very close, it happened in their twenties, they’re still engaged, and everyone’s wondering when they’ll be married.”
“That can’t be right,” I said. “He’s all about Channing, you should see them together.”
“Mrs. Ku is usually right,” my grandfather said. He sounded the way I felt, loaded down with worry.
“She was wrong about Kent’s engagement to Channing,” I offered.
“Yes, but this is different. She’s known about Minjae’s engagement for years.”
We were both silent for a while. It didn’t make sense unless Minjae was planning to break off his engagement now that he’d met my cousin. I shared my reasoning with Harabeoji, who considered the possibility. The situation had become more complicated, but it wasn’t as dire as his voice led me to believe. I offered him reassurance.
“Channing’ll work it out. And if he’s cheating on his fiancée with Channing, it’s better to know now,” I said. She’d had one boyfriend who lied about being separated from his wife that devastated her. She’d stayed with me for a few weeks in New York after that discovery. This was different, I told myself. There was a chance Minjae had told her by now. They’d met three days ago.
Just then a text came through from Channing herself:Bad traffic, please get the kids? You’re closer.
I was irritated enough not to reply. She’d see my location and know I was on my way. But I couldn’t be upset with her, not when I’d have to share this fact about Minjae.
At every red light, I kept wanting to pick up the phone and tell Channing. I knew, however, that we couldn’t talk while she was in the car with Minjae. It would take time to explain how we’d found out. Their relationship was just starting out. And maybe when she returned from this excursion with Minjae, she’d tell me there was nothing between them. She could have learned something about him she disliked. Harabeoji was right about me. I hated conflict.
Once again, I pulled into the town camp parking lot. Counselors in bright purple T-shirts were leading children one by one to the line of cars and helping them into each vehicle. I inched the SUV forward every few seconds, close enough to see the heads of Edison and Austin bobbing up and down in a large group of children. I rolled down my window and waved to them.
After several long minutes, it was my turn and the boys surged forward, only to be halted by the same counselor who had prevented me from delivering the swimsuits directly to them earlier. She had a clipboard tucked under her arm and held Edison and Austin each by the hand as she walked them toward me. When I opened my door, another counselor marshaling traffic shouted at me to stay inside the vehicle until the children were brought to me.
As Edison reached for the handle of the car door, the counselor ordered him to stop. She looked at me, then glanced inside the rest of the SUV.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Dahee Shin. You helped me earlier with the suits, remember?” I replied. The expression on her face remained the same. I was getting flashbacks of the police, so I took my wallet out of my bag and held it out to her.
She compared the name on my driver’s license with the form on her clipboard. “It says here that Channing Shin is the guardian for the monthof August, signed by the parents of these two campers. There’s no other name on the permission form,” she said.
A car honked behind us. I hit Channing’s phone number, silently begging for her to pick up. I held up the phone so the counselor could see I was calling my cousin. The skin on my palms went numb, and then I felt the prick of a hundred pine needles against them.
