by Jayci Lee
“Mom, you don’t need to ask. I was a horrible teenage brat, and adult me wasn’t much better. I wish I’d been there for you, too, instead of hurting you and making you feel more alone.” Aubrey’s tears weren’t of sorrow but of freedom and peace. “You and I, we let Father’s toxic influence break us apart. Break us. Never again, Mom. No one will take away our confidence and shove us in a corner.”
“Never again.” Her mom’s eyes were bright with tears and determination.
* * *
“Yes.” Landon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Twenty percent.”
“That’s too big of a risk,” his financial advisor sputtered on the other end.
“It’s just 20 percent of one portfolio.”
“It’s still a huge amount of money.”
Landon was fighting the madness clawing at his mind by focusing on his investments. His advisors thought he was taking unnecessary risks, but he knew exactly what he was doing. Taking calculated risks for high payouts. He studied the market for hours on end. It was the most effective way to distract himself from the gaping hole in his chest. Drinking was a shitty excuse of a crutch. It only made him feel as physically miserable as he was inside.
“Don’t worry, Stu. The payout is worth the risk.”
His financial advisor made a choking noise on the other end.
Landon’s brief spurt of amusement left him. “Do it.”
“I can’t stand back and watch you bankrupt yourself.”
“Stop being dramatic. I don’t have all my eggs in one fucking portfolio. Do it.”
Landon hung up on him without waiting for a response and dialed his property manager. Unlike his finance guy, his property manager didn’t question Landon’s requests even when they seemed reckless. After five minutes of listening to “Yes, Mr. Kim,” Landon grew tired of the call and the property manager. He made a mental note to replace the yes-man. Stu cared enough to argue with him. He was irritating, but he had a backbone. Landon couldn’t work with someone who let him make seemingly stupid decisions without a fight.
Not that his plans were anywhere near stupid. He wasn’t like his father with his unrealistic schemes. Landon worked his ass off to accrue his wealth. It gave him the power to protect his family and his future. He wouldn’t do anything to risk that.
He drove in silent contemplation, pushing his car far beyond the speed limit. His fingers resumed their restless drumming on the steering wheel. It wasn’t enough, though. None of it was enough. His cell phone rang, and Landon answered without looking to see who it was. He figured it was another one of his frustrated advisors.
“Landon.” His mom’s warm voice traveled through the lines.
“Is something wrong?” His question came out gruffer than he intended.
“Why do you ask that every time I call?” his mom responded in Korean. “Can’t I call my son to say hello?”
“Of course, you can.” He ran a hand down his face. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, baby.”
Landon could feel her smile, and he was suddenly homesick. “But seriously. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
Did Seth say something to Mom?
“There’s nothing to tell.” The now-familiar burning spread in his chest. The pain tore at him as he fought to push away thoughts of Aubrey. “I’m fine.”
“Seth says you’re behaving like a madman. Like you’re trying to destroy yourself.” His mom’s voice trembled. “Landon, whatever it is, come home.”
“I don’t—”
“For me. If you don’t want my help, that’s fine, but I need to see for myself that you’re okay.”
His heart clenched at the helpless worry in his mom’s voice. “I’ll be there in about four hours.”
Landon changed routes and headed toward his childhood home. He’d flown his mom out to Europe or had her stay at his place in Santa Monica, but he’d avoided going home for several years.
* * *
Landon arrived at the house and sat in the driveway as the sun set behind it, and he understood why he’d avoided it for so long. The house reminded him of how wonderful life had been when he’d cared, and how much it had hurt to lose the things he cared most about.
As soon as he stepped out of his car, the porch door swung open, and his mom bounded toward him. He met her halfway and lifted her off the driveway in a bear hug. She laughed and cried and laughed, and warmth thawed his frozen heart.
“Come on.” After a long while—but not long enough for Landon—his mom pulled back and tugged on his hand. “I made your favorite.”
His stomach growled vociferously. Everything his mom made tasted incredible, but her spicy fish soup had no equal. He couldn’t wait to fill himself up with it. But when they walked into the kitchen, he saw a precarious tower of sandwiches on white bread without the crusts.
“Peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches,” said his mom, doing a decent Vanna White impression. “Your favorite snack.”
He grinned as happy memories flooded him. He’d been about ten or eleven when their neighborhood had a long blackout that lasted a good fifteen hours. He and Seth had been arguing over what to watch for their family movie night when everything went dark. They stopped arguing—both happy the other hadn’t gotten to watch the movie he’d wanted—and shared an unforgettable meal, watching the fire dance in their toasty family room. Peanut butter, banana, and mini-marshmallow sandwiches. It tasted like the food of the gods, which they consumed faster than their mom could make them. Even their father had seemed content that night, although he’d refused to eat a single sugar-loaded sandwich.
“Mom,” he said, reaching for a sandwich. “You’re awesome.”
Landon finished the entire plate while he and his mom chatted about his mischievous childhood.
“You were such a curious child,” she said. “There wasn’t a science project you couldn’t blow up. You would tinker with the ingredients until you got a bigger, better reaction. Then you pushed for more.”
“Yeah. Always wanting more is a Kim family trait.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His mom gave him a long, sideways glance. “Always wanting more is different from never having enough.”
He let his mom’s words sink in. They’d said so much without bringing up the real topic. Landon was terrified of becoming his father. As a kid, he already had his dad’s callous confidence, endless ideas, and drive for more. He even looked like him. If he didn’t keep himself in check, he would chase after more until he let everyone down.
But his recent dreams to open his own restaurant, to find a home, and to share his life with Aubrey now felt like the beginning of something lasting rather than the end of everything he’d built up. Not a rash gamble but a choice he would cherish forever.
Landon glanced away from his mom to hide the panic reaching out to suffocate him. He walked into the kitchen with her close behind. “When you said my favorite, I thought you meant meh-oon-tang.”
“The sandwiches were your favorite snack. The fish soup is for dinner.” Her smile held a trace of sadness, but she let him change the subject. “How many hot peppers do you want in the soup? I have serrano and jalapeño.”
“Serrano. At least three. I want the steam-sauna effect.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Where’s the fish? Would you like me to clean it up for the broth?”
“Landon, we haven’t cooked together in so long.” His mom cleared her throat, her eyes wide. “It’s in the garage fridge. Red rock cod. Make sure you don’t nick the roe and the liver.”
“Give me some credit, Mom. I did graduate with honors from the CIA and am still a respected food critic. They’re the best part of the soup. I’ll make sure to extract them in pristine condition.”
The kitchen was small but well appointed, and he worked on the fish at the big sink, while his mom drew water for the broth from the island sink. When the base broth of kelp, onion, ginger, and garlic was ready, she ad
ded the chunks of fish Landon had cleaned. While that boiled, he sliced and then added some white Korean radish, green onions, and tofu to the soup. His mom had the fresh perilla leaves and crown daisy ready to add at the end.
Saliva was pooling in his mouth when the soup was finished. His mom laid out the banchan, small dishes of kimchee, seasoned bean sprouts, steamed spinach, and pan-fried zucchini. When she placed a bowl of rice, filled past the rim, in front of him, Landon dug in. The fish soup was boiling hot, and the spice level was volcanic. He wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip and ate seconds and thirds. He only came up for air once he’d finished.
“Mom.” He slouched back in his chair, feeling like he’d purged all the toxins from his mind and body. “That was the best.”
“Just a reminder of what you’re missing, son.”
Landon spent the night in his old room and actually managed to sleep a few hours. As expected, the pain had rolled in with the dark. Aubrey. Her name moved through his bloodstream, scorching and gutting him, but he didn’t try to hide from it.
Something had shifted with his homecoming. Letting himself be taken care of—allowing himself to become vulnerable—freed a part of him that he’d chained and thrown into the dungeon. Even the pain was better than the empty numbness Aubrey’s absence had left.
The next morning, he stood by the front door, knowing he was done running.
“Mom.” She had a death grip around his waist. “I’ll come visit soon. I promise.”
“I love you, baby. Please don’t hurt alone anymore.”
“Mom.”
“Don’t deny it. You loved your dad, but you didn’t even get to grieve his loss properly. You were so hard on yourself. Giving up more than I would ever have dreamed of asking you.”
“I didn’t want to be like him. I wanted to take care of you and Seth.”
“You are like him, though.” Landon stiffened, but she held on. “So passionate. So talented. But you’re stronger than he was.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, I am. Even as a kid, you always owned what you did, good or bad.”
“I—” A rush of pent-up emotions choked him. “I was so scared when Dad left. I couldn’t lose you and Seth, too.”
“You gave us everything money could buy, but you kept yourself distant.” She pulled back and gazed at him with pain shadowing her face. “I thought you resented me for having to give up your dream.”
“Not for a single moment.” Landon shook his head, horrified his mom had blamed herself all these years. “I walked away from my dream—from my life—because I didn’t think I could survive losing anything else I loved.”
“If you keep hiding, then you won’t have anything to lose, because you’ll have nothing worth having. It’s time to start living your life, son.”
“I know.”
“Well, then. You’d better go and get back the woman you love.”
22
When Tara came by for their weekly dinner, Aubrey’s eyes were nearly swollen shut.
“Ye gatz!” Tara cringed away from her. “What happened to you?”
“I … I…”
“Hello, Tara.” Her mom’s serene voice broke through Aubrey’s wailing. Despite the pregnancy dramas, they’d been getting along surprisingly well.
“Hey, Mama Linda. How long has she been like this?”
“Oh, on and off since she woke up this morning.”
Aubrey stopped crying to listen to their exchange. They were talking about her like she wasn’t there. She blew her nose loudly to break whatever invisibility spell they’d cast on her.
“What now, Bree? Did one of your cacti die? Or do you miss the fuzzy dice you had when you were twelve?”
Linda giggled behind her hand, and Tara inclined her head in acknowledgment. Aubrey glared at the two of them, switching to her irritated mood.
“Can’t you ever be serious?” she snapped.
“Only on very special occasions.”
Her mom actually snorted. Very unladylike. Tara was a bad influence on her. She didn’t blink an eye at the daggers Aubrey was shooting at her.
“Well, this is important,” Aubrey said.
“What is it?” Tara’s eyebrows shot up, alarm creeping into her voice.
“I’m fat.”
“Good heavens.” Her friend face-palmed.
“No. Seriously. Look at my feet. They look like Fred Flintstone’s.” Aubrey sniffed ominously, warning of another torrential storm. Her mom rushed over and frantically rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the wails. “And I have sausage fingers. I feel like a giant ogre when I handle the dough.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tara poofed and rolled her eyes. “You’re all stomach. The rest of you is tiny. People can’t even tell you’re pregnant from behind.”
“Really?” A tentative smile tugged at her tremulous lips.
“Absolutely. It’s only when you turn around that they say, ‘Whoa. Careful where you point that thing.’”
“Thanks for nothing. Some friend you are. Taking cheap shots at a pregnant woman.”
Linda made a choking sound and trembled, but managed to suppress her mirth. “Now, girls.”
Tara wasn’t as diplomatic. As her best friend chortled at her own witticism, Aubrey contemplated strangling her. Just a teeny bit. But she settled for hurling a cushion at her head.
“Hey. Watch it, preggers. I will take you down. I won’t take it easy on you because you’ve swallowed a basketball.”
“Shut up, or else I’ll sit on you.” Aubrey couldn’t stop herself from bursting out with laughter. “You’re all kinds of horrible. Just wait till you’re pregnant.”
“You’re welcome. Now that you’ve found your sunny disposition again, I want you to listen and listen good. You’re more beautiful than ever. You’re glowing from inside out.” Tara smiled mistily at Aubrey. “I’m so proud of you, Bree. Your strength and courage are blinding, and I think you’re ready to take on the world.”
“She’s right, honey. I know the changes are hard, but you’re doing a brilliant job growing a small person inside of you.” Her mom tapped Aubrey on the tip of her nose. “And your pudgy fingers still bake the best pastries in town.”
“Oh, you guys.”
Weepy group hugs were the best.
* * *
Landon wanted to realize the dream Aubrey had solidified for him during their first night in Bosque Verde. He longed to cook food for people to enjoy and be nourished by—simple, approachable gourmet that wouldn’t require a second mortgage. The only reason he couldn’t decide where to open his restaurant was because he wanted Aubrey to be part of his dream. Maybe he still had a chance of making the restaurant their dream.
But he’d hurt her so much. Destroyed her fragile trust. How could he convince her he loved her after what he’d done? Landon drove into Bosque Verde just as the sun began to set. Being in the schoolhouse that made him dream of making a home with Aubrey at once soothed and tortured him. The deck, the kitchen, the bedroom. Everywhere he looked, she was there. There was nowhere to hide, but he didn’t want to hide from the memories no matter how painful.
Night settled around the hills, and he paced around in the house, using every ounce of his willpower not to jump into his car and go to her. In desperation, he stalked to his bedroom and took out the glass bottle Aubrey had given him. He held it against his chest and closed his eyes. Maybe the stones were still warm from her hands. It was madness, but that didn’t stop him from opening the bottle and pouring the stones into his palm.
When the pregnancy test dropped out with the stones, Landon stopped breathing. It felt as though he was outside of his body watching himself. He flipped the stick over to uncover the result and then fell to his knees. In Aubrey’s lovely hand, she’d wrote, “First encounter with parenthood.” With stark clarity, their last conversation replayed in his mind.
That bottle means the world to me, and I hope it’ll
mean as much to you.
She’d been trying to tell him. She’d been was trying to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen. No matter what his reasons were, he was the one who had turned her away. He’d turned away the woman he loved at her most vulnerable moment. He’d abandoned her when she was pregnant with his child.
The pain that sliced through his heart made him sense the boundary of his own sanity. He vaguely wondered what it’d feel like to let the ugly, black guilt consume him. But something pulled him back.
Our child. Aubrey was going to have his baby.
He had no right—no right at all—to feel the joy that coursed through him. A dream he never knew he held came true in that moment. His very own family. With Aubrey. For the first time since he’d watched her walk out of his life, his lips curved with hope.
He had to fix this, and he needed help. He impatiently waited for the sun to rise then called Aria at seven o’clock sharp, grateful that she was an early riser.
“I’m a fucking imbecile,” Landon said without preamble when Aria answered the phone.
“I thought we’d already covered that.” He could hear her roll her eyes on the other end of the line. “Yes, yes, you are.”
“Aria, I love her so much.” He paused to breathe, trying to still the tremor in his voice. “I need to bring her home.”
“You’re finally talking sense.”
“She’s pregnant,” Landon blurted out.
He heard the phone clatter to the floor on the other end, and then there was silence. Landon wondered if he’d lost the connection.
“When did you find out?” Aria asked, her voice both excited and worried.
“Last night. The glass bottle she gave me had a positive pregnancy test inside. She was trying to tell me, Aria. She was trying to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen.” He couldn’t hide his anguish from his friend.
“Oh, Landon.”
“What should I do? How can I begin to make it up to her?”
“Well, first thing first,” Aria said briskly, ready to take charge. “How do you feel about the pregnancy?”
