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“We called himGyuliwhen he was little,” Sangcheol says, tipping his head and coffee mug toward his son with a sly grin.
“Okay, we really don’t need to do this,” Kija protests yet again.
“You can keep some things to yourself. Just nice little parental memories that stay with you.”
Sangcheol scoffs. “Oh, that’s not even embarrassing, son. We could do much worse.”
“I want to hear all of it! Everything!” I giggle, giddy with the access to all this new information—and maybe a little too much wine. Sitting around the table with Kija and his parents for the last couple of hours has been enlightening and endearing. I love them all more with every story they tell. “WhyGyuli?”
“We would tease him that he was going to turn into a tangerine because he ate so many of them!” Soohee cackles, clearly remembering something. “He stole a whole giant box of them off our neighbor’s porch one year and ate almost all of it in one go. He had a stomachache for days and kept saying he thought he was dying. Just laid around moaning and groaning, but wouldn’t tell us what had happened until a couple of days later because he was afraid of getting in trouble.”
“To be fair, the neighbordidrefer to him as ‘gyul dodug’ until he died a few years ago,” Sangcheol snickers. “Never by his name after the incident.”
I look at Kija, who is shaking his head in disbelief. “Tangerine thief,” I tease.
“You takeonebox of tangerines to enjoy while sitting with a tree, and it haunts you for life,” he complains. “I swear they were the best ones I ever had, though.”
His parents laugh again, the sound of the three of them almost like a magical harmony. I excuse myself from the table to sneak to the restroom and take a minute to pinch myselfmaybe, because all of this is too good, almost too much.
Before I am out of earshot, I catch Soohee sighing, “I’m so happy for you, Kija. He’s good for you.” I freeze, desperate to hear what comes next.
“I think so, too, eomma,” Kija replies, and then there’s a pause.
Sangcheol clears his throat. “I like him a lot.”
The sound of sniffling echoes down the hall, like maybe someone else is crying, too. I know my own cheeks are damp, the tears that have been threatening to escape all day finally spilling over from the sheer relief and joy I’m feeling.
“So now what?” Soohee asks.
“I figure out how to keep him.”
I’m practically swooning as I lean gently against the wall, needing to catch my breath as if I’ve been on stage for a long show.
I want to burst back into the room, to tell him, “I’m already yours. I’ve alwaysbeenyours and I will alwaysbeyours. ”
But it will still be true tomorrow or next week or five years from now.
So I can wait to tell him when the time is right.
NINETEEN
KIJA
“I’m so happy for you, Kija. He’s good for you.”
My mother’s voice has been echoing in my head the whole time we’ve been here. I hear it every time she looks at Sun, each time she sees us together. She gets this soft, satisfied expression, like she’s just so pleased. Maybe even a little bit proud.
I know this is what she wanted for me, to have a relationship like the one she has with my father—a supportive partner, a constant companion that brings peace in a world that is mostly chaos. I understand now why this has always been her wish for me. I didn’t know what I was missing until I had it.
The way both of my parents have taken to Sun has also tapped into some part of my heart I don’t think I was aware of until I saw the three of them around the table, drinks in hand, heads thrown back, laughing without me. I was the common factor, the thing that brought them all together, and they didn’t need me. Sun has fit in here so effortlessly; it’s been like a silent confirmation of everything I’ve been feeling.
I had told my mom that I thought he was good for me, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Iknowhe is. Like his name, Sun brings light to my life. I stop, mid-step, along the low stone wall that surrounds my parents’ property that I’ve been walkingwhile waiting for Sun to finish getting ready so we can take a drive.
But out here on this clear, gorgeous day, I feel like I was just struck by a thunderbolt.
As I drop down to sit on the rock wall, I don’t even think about how uncomfortable it is, because I’m having a bit of an epiphany.
