Page 46 of It's in the Contract
“Suzy always says what she thinks, so you know she means that.” I elbow Suzy in the ribs.
She puts on a mock offended face but then shrugs. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
“She’s never shy about saying exactly which movie she wants to watch every Chick-Flick-Friday,” I say. “Speaking of that?—"
Mrs. Jeong beams as she sets down the banchan—three kinds of kimchi, pickled sprouts, andgamja jorim, these amazing potato things. She sets down our usual order—japchae, my favorite glass noodles, stir-fried beef bulgogi, and gochujang fried rice, placing each item on the table carefully and always with two hands. Suzy has told me this is done in Korea as a sign of respect. Mrs. Jeong’s smile grows wider as our faces light up. She passes out plates and chopsticks.
“Soo Yun loves Korea House,” Mrs. Jeong says. “Someday she take over business.”
Suzy lets out a rough sigh. “Mom. No. Please.”
Mrs. Jeong winks. “Someday she take over. Enjoy!” She bustles off.
Suzy scowls and scoops herself a generous portion of rice and beef bulgogi. “I’m heading to Princeton, and after that I’m goingto be the CEO of a big business. I don’t care what business as long as it’s not a restaurant.”
“Even though she says she wants you to take over,” I say, adding bulgogi to my own plate, “you know she’ll be happy as long as you’re happy.” That’s what I love about Suzy’s mom. She talks about Suzy inheriting the restaurant, but the glitter in her eyes tells me that she’s teasing.
Suzy rolls her eyes, but I think she shouldn’t be so dismissive of the fact that her mom’s love doesn’t come with conditions.
I make my lettuce wrap exactly how I like it. Zeke watches me and carefully copies everything I do. “Make sure you get extra of these potato things,” I say. “They’re the best part. Sweet and salty.”
Zeke stabs one with a chopstick and eats it. “They’re cold.”
Suzy and I exchange another smile. “They’re supposed to be that way,” she says.
Zeke struggles with his chopsticks for a little while longer before I hand him a fork, and he smiles, relieved. We’re quiet for a moment save for the occasional moan that comes out of my mouth whenever I eat delicious food.
“You were saying, Cal?” Suzy says.
“Oh yeah,” I slurp my japchae noodles. “Zeke is coming to our next Chick-Flick-Friday.”
Zeke nearly drops his lettuce wrap, and rice spills down his hand.
Suzy raises an eyebrow at him. But then she shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”
I grin at Zeke, who is stuffing his face. “This food is so good,” he says. “You’re right. The potato things are amazing, and I love the beef . . . what’s it called?”
“Beef bulgogi,” I say.
“Kimchi, though . . .” Zeke shrugs. “What even is it?”
“Fermented cabbage,” Suzy says, eating a huge bite with her chopsticks.
Zeke swallows. “Oh. That’s . . . yum?”
I laugh at his expression and take a bite of kimchi myself. “It grows on you. When you eat everything together, the crunch of kimchi with the meat and rice is really yummy.”
“Let’s take a picture,” Suzy says, wiping her hands on a napkin. She pulls her phone out of her purse, a black bag with gold jangly rings. “I’m going to ask for people to vote for you, too. Keep this momentum going.”
“Smart,” I say.
We lean together, me in the middle, Suzy on my right, and Zeke on my left. Zeke’s shoulder bumps mine, and I catch a whiff of his scent—like pine and cloves. I still can’t name the cologne he uses, and it’s bothering me.
“Hana, dul, set!” Suzy counts to three in Korean. I flash the peace sign like a dork and grin from ear to ear.
After the pic, Zeke leans away, and I find that I miss his presence. Suzy taps away on her phone.
When we’re finished eating, Suzy pulls me into the bathroom, leaving Zeke at the table. I hope he doesn’t feel like he has to pay.
