Page 9 of For You, Sir

His crassness startled a laugh out of me and I shook my head, embarrassed for us both. He couldn’t hold on to a girlfriend any better than he could a job, but he stayed friends with an admirable number of his exes. He was hard to respect but easy to love—my opposite, you could say.

“Hyun-jun?” my mother croaked from the hospital bed. She looked pretty out of it, her eyes droopy and unfocused.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, switching to Korean. I took her hand—the one without an IV in it—and stroked the back of her fingers with my thumb. The bones in her hand stood out through her tissue-thin skin. “How are you feeling?”

“You finally came.” Her words came out sluggish and slightly slurred.

I searched for words, torn between relief and shame that she was happy to see me at all.

“Hyun-jun brought you porridge,” my brother volunteered. “Like you used to make for us.” He took out the container and popped the lid.

For a second, I was irked that he’d offered hermygift. But I let it slide because he’d given me credit. And he obviously felt more comfortable talking to this skeletal shade of our mother than I did.

“Good,” Mom said. “That’s good.” She nodded as if a big decision had been made and patted my hand.

“You want us to feed you, Mom?” Ho-Sung spoke loudly, as if she were hard of hearing.

“Mm,” she drowsily assented.

Ho-Sung passed me thedakjukand nodded encouragingly. I scooped up a spoonful and leaned over her bed. Bringing Mom the food she used to make for us was supposed to be cathartic, but it felt wrong. How had this once-powerful woman become so frail and dependent? It was just the chemo making her weak. One day, she would make a full recovery and be back to her salty, vigorous self.

Her eyes drifted shut before the food reached her mouth and I prodded her lip with the spoon. She opened up, helpless as a baby bird, and swallowed it down. Ho-Sung started scrolling through his phone again. I wanted to judge him for that, but he probably spent many more hours here than I did.

I spooned her a few more bites, then leaned forward and planted a kiss on Mom’s forehead. Her skin was sweaty and greasy under my lips and stank like she needed a shower.

When Mom exhaled a gravelly sigh, I froze. Her breath was sickly sweet and reeked of soju. She wasn’t just medicated—she washammereddrunk.

Rage sizzled up my spine, and I turned on my brother. “Ho-Sung,” I said under my breath in English, “can I talk to you in the hall?”

“Whatever you have to say, you can say it here.” He spoke in Korean, loud enough for Mom to hear. He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw in a defiant“What’re ya gonna do about it?”’ expression I’ve hated since we were boys. Perhaps roused by the drama in the air, Mom opened her eyes and sat up.

“She’s not supposed to have alcohol,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even. “It could make her really sick.”

“She’s already really sick,” he spat back. “She wanted a drink to feel better.”

A drink? More like a whole goddamn bottle!I clenched my fist. “You’re not allowed to bring it in here,” I hissed.

“So?” He wore a smug smile. I could just imagine him sneaking in a bottle of spirits down the front of his baggy pants and feeling like a hero for it. “She asked me to.”

“I asked him to,” Mom slurred in agreement.

“It’s bad for her liver if she drinks.” I tried my damnedest to sound calm and reasonable. “The doctor said so,” I added, knowing my own concern wouldn’t be enough.

“She’s an adult. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.” I’d never heard my brother swear in front of our mother, and was surprised she didn’t react. “You’re not the boss here. You’re never even around.”

That last part shanked me in the side like a switchblade.

Mom said nothing, but her eyes narrowed in silent agreement. The mood in the room was turning against me.

“If she wants a drink to get through this, I’m gonna help her out,” Ho-Sung said. “I know she’d do the same for me.”

Mom nodded as if this was some noble pact they’d made. Family loyalty, not the co-enabling of two alcoholics. No wonder I was always on the outside looking in. I was the only one who wouldn’t turn a blind eye while the family destroyed itself.

I wanted to shout, “Our daddiedof liver disease, you stupid fuck!”And then I heard the words echoing in the room and realized I just had.

“Get out, Hyun-jun,” my brother said coldly. “You’re not helping. All you care about is yourself.”

I was so angry, so hurt, I couldn’t speak. My heart was being clenched in a giant’s fist.

---