Page 98 of Mother Parker
Fucking. Giggled!
“Thank you so much for all that delicious food, Mrs. Nam. You’re the best cook I’ve met.”
“Suck-ass,” I muttered under my breath.
I thought he hadn’t heard me, but as I came out of the car, he threw a strict glance at me.
“Please, Parker. Call me Halmeoni. Everyone else do,” she said, patting his cheek.
“And those rice cakes, what did you say they’re called? Songpeyon? Any chance you have leftovers?” he asked, and the freaking jerk even walked her to the sidewalk.
I wanted to tell him she wasn’t a relic, but it was too cute to ruin the moment.
“No, I bring everything. I make more and bring you tomorrow,” she said.
“Awesome. I can’t wait,” he said.
Halmeoni squeezed his hand and stood under the arbor, smiling at Parker then at me before she turned back to him and wagged her finger in the air.
“Look after him.”
Parker’s face hardened, and he addressed Halmeoni in pure earnest and sobriety.
“I won’t let anyone hurt him,” he answered her.
“I hope that include protecting him from you too,” she added, waving her hand toward me.
Parker froze, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.
“You-you know?” he whispered with a crease running down the middle of his face.
Halmeoni scoffed and raised an eyebrow.
“You think I stupid? I can tell from the minute I see you two together,” she said.
“Oh,” was all he replied.
Did that mean he hadn’t wanted to give it away? Did he not want anyone to find out? I thought he was trying to impress Halmeoni because he liked me.
“I’m sorry,” he added after a few moments.
“Nothing be sorry for. Just don’t hurt Hwanchan. He been through enough,” she told him and gave him another tug before she turned and walked into her house with a bag full of empty containers that I knew she’d wash the minute she closed the door behind her.
“You okay?” I asked when he walked back to the car. Without even being asked, I got into the passenger seat as if this wasn’t even my car.
He nodded, and when he settled behind the wheel, he looked up and smiled.
“Of course. Do you think she liked me?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes and put my seatbelt on. I’d been worried for nothing.
“Please. You called her the Queen of England. Of course she did.”
“Better than the Queen of England,” he corrected.
“Either way, I think you’re good,” I told him, and when he wrapped his hand around my thigh, I let him, falling back against the seat and embracing the warmth it spread through me.
When he pulled into my driveway, I looked outside the window. It was dark out, but the light was on in the apartment upstairs. I’d hoped leaving it on would deter any troublemakers.
