Page 48 of Show Off

“Dal.”

I jump at my uncle’s voice. “Ji-Hoon let me in.” He flicks on a lamp, revealing himself at the dining room table. “Got a minute?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He gets up, wincing, and I feel like an asshole. “Sorry,” I mutter. “You startled me.” I notice another wince. “You okay?”

“Fine, fine.” He stretches up tall, then sighs. “Long flight. You remember how it is.”

“Yeah.” Growing up, we made the trip from Seoul to Boston twice a year to visit Mom’s family. Korain joined us sometimes, entertaining Ji-Hoon and me on those long-as-hell plane rides. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, joka.” He stops stretching and walks to the sofa. “I know better now than to—what’s the word?” He pauses, but I don’t have an answer. “Sugarcoat,” he continues, offering a smile. An olive branch. “I know better than to sugarcoat things with you.”

“Okay.” I grab the bag I brought from the restaurant and unload some boxed leftovers and a loaf of bread. I’ll make Korean street toast tomorrow, stuffed with egg and ham the way my father used to do it. “We’ll have breakfast here tomorrow, if you want some.” I clear my throat. “Ji-Hoon and I get up around nine.”

“Thank you.” My uncle sits down on the sofa. Mouse bounds over and hops up beside him, dropping her head on his lap. “I thought we could talk.”

“About what?” I go to the fridge and pull out a beer. It’s from a six-pack I brought home from Big One’s at Cherry Blossom Lake. I hold one up, but Korain shakes his head.

Taking my time, I flip the cap off my bottle and tip back my head. As I swallow, I feel my uncle’s eyes watching.

“I’d like to talk about your parents.” He clears his throat. “I saw the season finale.”

“You and a few million viewers.” I set down the bottle and study him over the counter. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

He looks at me a long time. “It wasn’t your fault, Dal.”

Spitting a curse, I look down at the counter. “The hell it wasn’t.”

“Dal—”

“Don’t you dare say Ji-Hoon had anything to do with it.” We’ve been over this before. “I’m the one who kept dicking around. Mom told us to stop, and Ji-Hoon did.” He was always better about that. “I had to keep pushing and?—”

“Dal.” Something soft in his voice makes me look up.

“What?” I can’t read what’s in his eyes. “What is it?”

Korain releases a long sigh. He closes his eyes, looking tired from more than just jetlag. “I suppose it’s time you know.”

“Know what?” I grip the beer bottle tighter. “What game are you playing here?”

“There’s no game, joka.” He pats the couch beside him, the spot Mouse isn’t occupying. “God, you look just like him.”

My father, he means. I swallow hard, wondering if another sip of beer might wash back the lump that’s formed in my throat.

What comes out of my mouth surprises me. “Their anniversary would have been next week. They would have been married thirty-two years.”

“Yes.” Korain lets out a long breath. “Which makes what I learned even harder to know.”

“What are you talking about?”

He’s quiet for a moment. The clock on our wall ticks quickly, anxiously. When he opens his eyes, he studies my face. “I found some medical records.”

“Okay.” Given all the time spent at the hospital, that’s no surprise. “For Ji-Hoon, you mean?”

“No.” He balls up his fists like he’s summoning strength. “For your father.”

I don’t understand why he’s sharing this. “Okay.” I sound like a broken record. “And?”

---