Page 58 of Rules for Rule Breaking
“Ew, I don’t want your uncle’s pants persimmon.” She wrinkled her nose but took it anyway and marveled at how perfect it was—a blazing orange, as if plucked from the sky and placed in her hands. She took a bite, and juice ran down her arm.
“Remember how your mom would bring a box of persimmons every time she came over?” Bobby mused. “I always liked that. I thought it was really classy. My mom would try to one-up her by bringing Korean grapes to your house.”
“I likedthat,” Winter said. “Those things are like candy.”
Bobby shook his head. “They’re too messy.”
Winter scanned the aisles for the grapes and snatched one off the vine. She squeezed it between her fingers, and the sweet insides burst out of the leathery purple skin into her mouth. She took another and held it to Bobby’s lips. He spun around to avoid her, but Winter had it at his lips again.
“Open your mouth, Robert!” Winter demanded.
He pawed at her. “Cut it out!”
“Robert!”
“No!”
Winter brought her hand across Bobby’s face, and she popped the grape into his mouth when he gasped.
“Ugh, it’s like eating an eyeball!” he said, laugh-choking.
“Excuse me for trying to immerse you in our culture.”
“By literally jamming it down my throat.” He coughed dramatically, and Winter rolled her eyes. “Are these even Korean, or did we just claim them as our own?”
“Who cares? They’re ours now.”
Winter was going to launch a few grapes at Bobby’s head, but Uncle Eugene shot them a look, so she decided against it. He turned back around and went about his business. He was talking to a man who appeared to be a delivery driver, and based on their body language, there was some sort of issue with the shipment. She couldn’t tell exactly what was going on because Uncle Eugene and the driver were speaking to each other in an English-Spanish hybrid.
“Your uncle isn’t what I thought he’d be like,” Winter said.
“My parents always made it seem like he was a loser college dropout,” Bobby said. “But look at him. He speaks at least three languages. This store looks amazing, and he seems to do okay.”
“I don’t think parents are always right.”
Bobby let out a deep breath, which sent his bangs flying upward. “I’m starting to see that.”
Uncle Eugene made his way back over, and the same cheesy smile was splashed across his face. “How are you liking the store? I recently had it remodeled, and my stepdaughter helped me with some updates.”
“The store is really lovely,” Winter said, debating whether it was rude to spit out the grape seeds she had tucked in her cheek or if she should swallow them. Her father always told her grapevines would grow in her belly.
“You’re married, Uncle Eugene?” Bobby asked.
Uncle Eugene’s smile faded. “My wife passed away a few years ago.”
Bobby fell silent.
Winter took a gulp and quickly said, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Bobby wasn’t good in situations like this. He largely avoided heavy conversations, probably because of his desire to control absolutely everything. However, this time, he wasn’t overreacting. His uncle had lived an entire life away from the rest of the family, and so much time had gone by that he’d become a husband, a father, and then a widower.
“No matter. It’s good to remember people sometimes,” Uncle Eugene said. He then took a faded black-and-white photo off the wall behind him and showed it to the two teenagers. “This is your grandmother and grandfather right outside the store the day they bought the place. This picture has been hanging in here since 1976.”
Bobby’s grandfather was in a pin-striped suit with a skinny tie and his hair slicked back. He looked like Bobby, but he had more stories etched into his face and unspoken ones tightening his jaw. He was ahard-looking man, impeccably dressed for the time. Bobby’s grandmother was wearing something Winter’s halmeoni would wear. She had on a black dress, a boutonniere on her wrist, and a brooch pinning both sides of her long coat together.
“Your grandfather lived in this store,” Uncle Eugene said. “He was brilliant. He came here not speaking a word of English, but he got a good education and worked as an accountant for a decade before he quit one day and bought this place.”
“Could you tell me more about them?” Bobby asked.
Uncle Eugene was thoughtful for a moment. “They were odd but good people. I remember your grandfather never slept. Maybe only a few hours a night. Then he’d wake up at four a.m. and shave his face in complete darkness. I remember I tried it once and cut my entire chin.” He chuckled. “And I remember Mom would cry if she got a run in her pantyhose, and every day when she heard Dad pull into the driveway, she’d run into the bathroom and put on lipstick. She was raised on a farm, but you’d never know it until she was in this store.” Uncle Eugene placed the picture back on the wall, then gave Bobby a sharp tap on the cheek. “They’d be so proud of you. You’re smart like your dad.”
