He nods. “I work for an entertainment company.”
“Do you like it?”
“I do,” he says quietly. “Mostly.”
Phoebe regards him with that look I always shied away from as a child, the one that went too deep. I was greedy about my secrets, and Phoebe was never one to leave well enough alone.
Mom pokes her head around the door. “Dinner, kids.”
I jump up with alacrity, dragging Jihoon with me to wash our hands before we eat. “Sorry about that,” I say. “It’s how she is.”
“Will there be more?” he asks weakly.
“Almost certainly.”
“I should have prepared, like for school exams.” Jihoon gamely straightens his shoulders to ready his answers for Phoebe’s dinner round.
But Phoebe gives him time to dig into the plain grilled chicken (tofu for me) and steamed vegetables that Dad views with dejection. At least Mom has a chive cream sauce for the rest of us. The conversation in English might be a bit fast for Jihoon, because he’s quiet and his eyes move quickly from person to person, checking their faces as they speak, but it could also be shell shock from Phoebe’s barrage of questions.
“How’s the office?” asks Dad as he passes me the rice.
“It’s fine.”
“This is the time in your life to be working for your goals.”
“Yeah, God forbid you should enjoy yourself,” says Phoebe dryly.
“You can enjoy yourself after you put in the work.” Dad lays down his fork.
“Martin, there’s a happy medium.” Mom glares at him before putting on a smile for Jihoon. “More rice?”
Her attempts to shift the conversation go unheeded as Dad turns to Jihoon. “We always knew Ari would be a lawyer,” he says. “Same as her father.”
“I’m sure she’s an excellent lawyer,” Jihoon says diplomatically as he accepts a refill of wine from Phoebe.
“We were going to be Hui and Hui, until she decided against family law. Broke her dad’s heart.”
I try to smile. “Dad, you said you’d be happy as long as I went into law.”
“Right, right.” He points his fork at me. “I knew in my bones Ariadne would be the one to do it.”
“Because I’m such a screwup, right, Dad?” Phoebe’s voice is tight.
“I didn’t say that, Phoebe.” Dad stares at her across the table. “However, you can’t deny it would have been hard for you to be a lawyer after you dropped out.”
“I never wanted to be a lawyer, not like the golden child here. You wanted that for me.”
My mother turns to our guest. “Jihoon, you didn’t tell us what you do.”
The poor guy. The conversation goes from there, Mom and I doing our best to avoid drawing attention to the fact that Phoebe and Dad refuse to talk to each other for the rest of the meal. It’s not as bad as some of the Hui family dinners, but that’s about the best I can say. I wish we’d stayed at home eating takeout. I wish I’d done this alone.
An hour later, we’re back in the car with containers of leftovers. Phoebe had already left with a small wave and smaller smile thatdidn’t reach past her lips. I lean back against the rope of my hair and quickly unbraid it for comfort. “Sorry about the drama. I should get you a T-shirt that says you survived the Huis.”
To my astonishment, he wears a huge smile. “Thank you.”
“For subjecting you to the verbal tennis game that was supposed to be dinner?” I cover my eyes with my hands. Why couldn’t my usually repressed family have stiff-upper-lipped it for two hours?
“Ari.” He leans over and tugs my hands down. I slump back on the seat, gusting my breath out. “Your family is coping with what happened. I’m grateful they opened their home to me.”
