Page 111 of Show Off

“Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you never run out of potatoes or peanut butter.”

That sounds like the start of some pretty good marriage vows, but I’m getting ahead of myself. “Deal,” I say, squeezing his ass. “Do you want to join us for book club?”

He glances behind me as Lauren calls out a reply.

“Come enjoy potatoes and pastries,” she shouts, and I laugh. “And a book that has a mostly happy ending.”

Dal looks deep in my eyes. “Sounds like my kind of party.”

EPILOGUE

CONFESSIONAL 1298.5

Yang, Dal (Head Chef, Serenade: Juniper Ridge)

I like to think I’m growing. Trying to grow, anyway.

Every chef has specials that are the go-to thing. An apricot glazed tenderloin you can’t take off the menu without howls of protest from the regulars and that’s fine. You play to your strengths, right?

But sometimes you find new strengths.

That’s when you hit the motherfucking homerun of the culinary century.

* * *

“You may now kiss the bride.”

My heart swells so big it nearly bursts from my chest. Lana’s perfume fills my lungs as her golden blond hair glows with candlelight. As she squeezes my hand, I bend and brush her lips with mine.

“Don’t block my view.” She squeezes my hand and leans back. “This is my favorite part.”

I look just in time to see Rosa settle on Ji-Hoon’s lap. Her wedding dress drapes down the side of his chair as the two share a passionate kiss.

“Aw, man.” I stick two fingers in my mouth and whistle. “They did it. They really did it.”

Mouse responds to my whistled cue, bounding down the aisle with her shaggy ears flopping. She skids to a halt beside the bride and groom, ducking her head so Ji-Hoon can unhook the bag from her collar.

I already know what’s inside, but Lana doesn’t. It’s a surprise, and not the last of the evening.

“What is it?” she whispers as Ji-Hoon reaches into the bag. “Not a ring.”

“Nope.” They already exchanged those. “Joenanyrye.”

“Say what now?”

We watch as Ji-Hoon whispers something to Rosa, then tucks something in her palm. I know the shape of them, tiny wooden figures worn smooth by my parents’ hands.

“Joenanyrye,” I repeat as Rosa gasps and claps a hand to her mouth with delight. “Literally translated, it means ‘presentation of the wild goose.’” A Korean tradition we don’t often uphold these days. “A long time ago, the groom would present geese to his new mother-in-law to symbolize his commitment.”

“Because geese mate for life,” Lana whispers, smiling as Rosa hugs my brother again.

“Exactly.” They’re kissing now, more exuberantly than before. The love my brother has for his new bride steals my breath away. “These days, most couples use wooden ducks. Those ones belonged to my parents.”

“That’s so sweet,” she says. “Her last name means ‘duck,’ right?”

“Exactly.” I love that she and Rosa have grown close these past few months. They even did a girls’ getaway to Cherry Blossom Lake for Rosa’s bachelorette party.

Lana applauds with the crowd as their officiant wraps up explaining what’s happened. Why this moment means something to my family.

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