I Believe in a Thing Called Love

by Maurene Goo

  They both smiled warmly at me in response, and Ned took the plant. “Thanks, Desi! What a great addition to our little desert garden! Let’s hope we keep this guy alive.” Impeccable politeness? Check.

  We walked into the house, Luca still holding my hand, and his grip got almost imperceptibly tighter. I couldn’t imagine why—his dad was pleasant as hell so far. We went past the giant tiled foyer, complete with a rustic antler chandelier that was bigger than my bedroom, and my jaw dropped when we fully entered the house.

  It was both rustic and palatial—huge windows and French doors overlooking the ocean and the setting sun. Candles were lit everywhere, and colorful tapestries and soft animal-skin rugs accented brown leather furniture. It was luxurious and cozy and I wanted to live there forever.

  “Wow, what an awesome house!” I exclaimed.

  “Thank you!” Lillian exclaimed just as enthusiastically. “You should have seen the place before we got married—a real bachelor pad.”

  Really? I mean how bachelor pad–ish could this beautiful house have been?

  “You mean before you moved in,” Luca said drily “You got married like two years after already movin’ on in.” I threw him a sharp glance but Lillian didn’t bat an eye, and Ned shot him a warning look while pouring us some drinks from the bar off the living room.

  “Yeah, that’s what I meant,” she countered easily.

  I squeezed Luca’s hand gently, trying to communicate to him without words: Chill out. He seemed to relax slightly, but I couldn’t tell from his stony expression.

  Ned handed me an ice-cold glass filled with a bright red beverage. “Just a Shirley Temple, don’t worry.” He tossed Luca a can of root beer. “Your favorite, right?” Even I knew that Luca didn’t like root beer and I’d been his girlfriend for a mere month. I willed him not to say anything mean. Instead he kept a blank expression and placed the can on a side table.

  “I had to Google you because Luca was keeping you so mysterious,” Lillian said, curling up on the sofa with a glass of white wine. “Pretty impressive—your parents must be so proud of you.”

  Hm, parents. Looks like Luca really didn’t talk to these guys that much. I took a sip of my Shirley Temple. “Thanks, but it’s just my dad and me. My mother passed away.”

  Lillian and Ned looked stricken. Ned’s mouth opened and closed before he said, “I’m so sorry to hear that, Desi. We didn’t know…” He trailed off, giving Luca a look that was equal parts baffled and disappointed. I, however, wasn’t surprised that Luca had never mentioned this to them. I was surprised they even knew I existed.

  “Thank you, but it’s okay, she passed away when I was little. I’m very close to my dad, he played the dual parenting role pretty well,” I said. Since Lillian and Ned had been so open and welcoming to me so far, I felt like I should reciprocate.

  “Must be one great dad,” Lillian said with a warm smile.

  “He is,” Luca said. “He’s fixing my car, you know. He’s a mechanic.”

  “Oh, really? Where’s his shop?” Ned asked.

  “Off Baker Road, near our school,” I said. And we continued to talk easily about my dad, school, and a hundred other topics over our drinks. Lillian and Ned were curious about everything—the sports I played, what I wanted to study at Stanford, what part of Korea my parents were from.

  “So Desi, what made you want to be a doctor?” Ned asked as he replenished my Shirley Temple.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the drink. “I’ve always wanted to be a doctor because my mom was one. A neurosurgeon.”

  “Wow! Impressive lady,” Ned said, taking a sip of his own cocktail.

  “Yeah, definitely,” I said with a laugh.

  “But Desi loves all the gross biology behind being a doctor, too. Right, Des?” Luca asked with a nudge.

  I stirred the ice in my drink with my straw. “You know it.”

  “Beyond science dork,” Luca said with a proud smile.

  “I guess I also like the idea of, I don’t know, literally saving lives,” I said. “I know that sounds so simple, and I don’t know, scripted. But I’m an impatient person, you know? I like to see direct results from things I do—and while I admire the unsung heroes, I could never be content with the, uh, long game, you know? I’m not sure if I’m making any sense…”

  Ned had been nodding his head from the second I started speaking. “Desi, you’re making complete sense. It’s what drove me to engineering and then specifically to medical equipment. A youthful impatience to enact change.”

  “Exactly! Luca told me that you patented the … well, he couldn’t quite remember the name, but is it the CPR machine?”

  “Ah, nope—the external auto-resuscitator.”

  I snapped my fingers. “I knew it! I guessed that first! Right, Luca?”

  Luca was trying very hard to look like this entire conversation wasn’t happening. But it was, and I wanted his dad to know that he had spoken to me about him. “Anyway, yeah, Luca told me about that and I was super-excited.”

  Ned beamed and Luca squirmed. I cleared my throat. “Can I get a house tour?”

  I nursed the dregs of my Shirley Temple while getting the tour from Ned and Lillian. We left for the show shortly after, taking one car together. The show was being held at some fancy art gallery downtown. We were a little early but eventually people started trickling in, including Fiona and Wes. I introduced everyone and it was comfortable and easy and kind of lovely.

  At a certain point, Luca pulled me aside while everyone was chitchatting. “Do you remember that the scholarship recipient is going to be notified tonight? By e-mail.”

  I gasped. “Oh my God, how did I forget?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve been distracting you.”

  I laughed. “You have. Okay, well, do you know what time?”

  “Midnight.”

  “Geez, dramatic much?” I said with an eye roll. That reminded me. “Hey, is your mom going to be able to make it to the show tonight?” I asked, trying to keep it light but feeling apprehensive. The idea of her showing up with Ned and Lillian around made me nervous.

  Luca shook his head. “No, she’s traveling for work.”

  “Oh, too bad. Would have been great to meet her,” I said with a too-bright smile.

  Just then I overheard Wes’s voice loudly asking, “How does one become a fashion blogger?”

  I groaned. “Let’s go rescue them.”

  Before we could, though, Violet walked in with two people I assumed were her parents. While I wasn’t sure if we were exactly friends, Violet and I definitely had reduced the hostility between us. I knew she hung out with Luca sometimes and just tried not to let it bother me. As long as she didn’t flirt with him, that is.

  Unexpectedly, Violet’s parents made a beeline for me, filling me with dread. Oh God, Korean parents. I would have to be all Korean-y.

  “Desi! Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re so big now!” Violet’s mother cried while pulling her beautiful cashmere shawl over her shoulders.

  I did my awkward Korean bow and greeting to them—bending slightly at the waist and saying, “Annyeonghaseyo,” in a rushed, mumbling fashion.

  Violet’s dad gave me an awkward Korean-dad pat on the arm. “Wow, nice and tall!”

  I laughed nervously. “Not as tall as Violet though!”

  They both threw their heads back and laughed like I had told the world’s funniest joke. Ever.

  “She’s too tall,” her mother said with a cluck and a disapproving glance at Violet, who was slouching and practically hiding in her hair. Ah, the sly Korean deflection of complimenting their own children by warping it into a criticism instead.

  “Violet says you’re going to Stanford to become a doctor!” her dad bellowed.

  I hid my embarrassment with a nervous laugh. “Well, not yet, ha-ha. I mean, I have to get accepted first.”

  Her mom waved her hand. “Oh, you will. Violet’s always bragging about how smart you are.”

/>   Violet almost melted into a pile of hair and leather. “Eomma. No, I do not.” She glared at me. “Don’t even think for an instant that my senile parents are telling the truth.”

  Her mom dug a knuckle into Violet’s arm and tsked.

  While I thoroughly enjoyed watching Violet get schooled by her mom, I noticed my dad just then. Walking into the gallery wearing a dark green sweater hastily pulled over his greasy T-shirt and khakis. Only the best for his daughter!

  I quickly excused myself and ran over to him. “Hi Appa!”

  He grinned and immediately scanned the gallery. “Hi, Desi. Where is yours?”

  “Hidden in a dark corner somewhere.” I pointed to the end of the gallery, my painting the last one before the hallway to the restrooms. Fitting.

  “Let’s go look together,” he said, pulling me toward it.

  “Okay, but first do you want to meet Luca’s dad and stepmom?” I asked with some trepidation. While I knew they would all probably get along, I didn’t want anything awkward to happen. I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that all of this could unravel at the slightest tug, the smallest mismaneuver.

  “They’re here?” he asked, looking around. Then he spotted Luca and waved his arm in the air—very high, and with a very expansive wave movement.

  We walked over to them and I noticed that Wes and Fiona had scattered already. I smiled at everyone. “Ned, Lillian, this is my dad.”

  “Hi, Dad! Does Dad have a name?” Ned asked with a hearty grin as he reached over to shake my dad’s hand.

  My dad laughed. “No, to Desi my name is just Food Machine.”

  All the adults burst out into boisterous laughter. Where was this weird TV-dad humor coming from? I pushed my dad lightly. “Ha. Ha.”

  “My name’s Jae-Won, but you can just call me Jae!” he said in the cheerful voice he used when he met the White People who couldn’t pronounce his name.

  “Nice to meet you, Jae! We love your kid, here. Desi’s just the best,” Ned said with a wink in my direction. “Luca’s lucky she even bothers!”

  So many dad jokes. I made a face at Luca and he crossed his eyes back at me.

  We all walked around the gallery to check out the artwork. Some were good, like Violet’s. Hers was this dark (surprise, surprise) abstract painting full of paint drips and shadowy shapes. Yeah, I could imagine it in some rich person’s living room.

  And then there was my painting.

  “Ta-da!” I cried. “Behold, the mastery of rudimentary painting skills!”

  Luca sighed. “Here we go again with the self-deprecating act.” He looked around at our parents. “She’s good! She just needs more practice.”

  I nodded. “Yes, definitely can’t wait to get more practice. But I had a lot of help from Luca, thank God. Or you’d be looking at a very bright green blob on a brown stick.”

  My dad peered closely at it. “Yeah, it’s pretty good, Desi! I’ve never seen you paint before, so good job!”

  And then we moved on to Luca’s piece, which had its own little room in the gallery. The Beach Boys were blasting in the dark, all four walls lit up by projected images. Images of the graffiti that Luca had painted over—but projected in a way so that the walls actually looked painted on. With the dreamy music floating in the background, the pictures would change every few seconds to match certain beats. There was a little placard by the entryway to explain the concept of his project.

  “Wow.” Lillian marveled while spinning around slowly. “This is awesome.”

  Ned was silent, taking it all in. And then he looked at Luca. “Were you tagging?”

  Ah, shit.

  Luca shrugged. “Kinda. All of this stuff already existed, I just added to it.”

  Ned’s jaw clenched. “First your arrest. Then the incident at the zoo, which could have been an arrest if the security guard had been a policeman. Have you learned nothing? You’re on probation, how could you be so careless?”

  Something switched off in Luca’s face, turning it into an impassive mask that I hadn’t seen since the early Luca days. A mask of boredom, of self-preservation.

  I jumped in. “Um, Ned, it’s not really tagging though. Like he said, the graffiti was already there, the whole idea is that he turned vandalism into art.”

  My dad shot me a sharp look, signaling Don’t get involved.

  Ned was quiet for a second before his face relaxed. “Yeah, I guess I get the concept.” And I could see in his controlled expression that he was trying really hard not to get mad. “I don’t have to like how you got there…”

  “You don’t get to have an opinion!” Luca exploded. Ned turned red and I saw Lillian freeze up. And I got it—the dynamic of Luca’s home life. Tiptoeing around Mr. Grumples Teenager until one of them blew up. Even if things had gotten better between them, their history was always bubbling right under the surface, just looking for reasons to explode.

  “Luca,” Ned whispered fiercely. “This isn’t the time.”

  “There is no time, Dad! When do you want to talk? At home? We don’t freaking talk.”

  Lillian’s face blanched as she glanced over at me and I threw her a helpless look in return.

  “Is it always my fault? When will I stop having to paying for this divorce? I’ve been trying for five years, Luca!” Ned’s voice reverberated off the walls, mixing with Brian Wilson singing “Don’t Worry Baby,” and the entire scene was just surreal.

  “That’s the problem, you think you can just fix everything with money! Tossing alimony at us, thinking, Well, that’s that,” Luca said, using a low and douchey voice for effect.

  Ned threw his arms up in the air. “Are you kidding me? Is having you move in just tossing money at you? It was your mom who kept you away this entire time!”

  Uh-oh. Luca ran his fingers through his hair and laughed harshly. “Just stop. There’s no way you can convince me that this is all Mom’s fault, that you didn’t cheat on her.”

  Oh shit. Even in the dark, I could see Lillian’s face get red. My dad slowly made his way over to me. “Maybe we should go outside,” he said in a low voice. But I couldn’t leave now.

  Ned was silent and Luca kept going. “And you only had me move in with you because you wanted to control me.”

  “No, no, that’s where you’re wrong.” Ned’s voice went back to a normal volume. “Yes, when you got arrested, I wondered if you needed more supervision. But it was … just an excuse. I had been looking for an opportunity to convince your mother to let you live with me, and the arrest was the one that finally did it.”

  Luca made a rude noise—something between a snort and laugh.

  Ned ignored him and continued. “Do I think you need more discipline? Yes. Is it too late? Maybe. But I still wanted to try and get to know you before you left for college. I knew I’d never have a chance of seeing you in any real way after that.” Ned’s voice cracked. “I didn’t want to miss out on all the big things.”

  Everyone was silent and my dad cleared his throat. I elbowed him.

  Luca was still looking down at the floor, hands shoved into his pockets, and while my heart went out to him, I resisted the instinct to go and be with him.

  “Luca, I just want to say … you’re right.” Ned waved an arm at the walls surrounding him. “I should care about this because you care about it. And it’s great, I’m so impressed. And I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to share this moment. This is why I wanted you to move here. So I could get to know you better. And all this? Makes me understand you a little more. And I’m proud.”

  I held my breath. Luca continued to stare at the floor.

  “Even if you did, maybe, break the law.” The playful tone in Ned’s voice seemed to knock something down, then, and Luca finally looked up. He didn’t smile exactly, but he didn’t look angry anymore.

  “Thanks.”

  And right on cue “Good Vibrations” came over the speakers and a group of people came in and started chattering loudly with oohs and ahhs. My da
d walked over to Ned and Lillian, and Luca headed toward me.

  I bumped him with my shoulder. He looked over at me sheepishly and bumped my shoulder back.

  “Hey.”

  He smiled, a little ray of sunshine breaking through clouds. “Hey. Sorry about that.”

  After darting my eyes around to make sure my dad wasn’t watching, I pecked him on the cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry we were all standing here being awkward as hell.”

  He laughed and tugged a strand of my hair. “So? What do you think of the piece?”

  I looked around with a blasé expression. “It’s okay, I guess.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. Could use a little more … I dunno, purple.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Yeah, it’s no sycamore tree.”

  He kissed my ear. “No, it is most definitely not a tree.”

  * * *

  I watched the clock.

  Des, do not project your anxiety onto Luca’s future.

  Tick-tock. I willed my eyeballs to move from the clock to the tattered copy of Beowulf that I was trying to read. I settled back deeper into my pillows and dug my toes into my bedspread. Chill. Just read. Luca will text you as soon as he hears.

  11:42.

  11:43.

  11:45.

  My phone buzzed. I didn’t even need to grab it since it was already propped on top of my knees, behind my book. I threw the book onto the bed and read Luca’s message: I’m outside.

  I scrambled over to my window and pushed the curtain aside to see Luca in the driveway, sitting on top of the BMW’s hood.

  My dad was already asleep, so I tiptoed past his door, then ran down the stairs, grabbing a blanket off the sofa to throw across my shoulders. I gently shut the front door behind me and walked out barefoot in my pajamas.

  I went through my K drama cute-heroine checklist: Hair in bun: okay but not ideal. Makeup scrubbed off but no acne medication dotting face: check. Teeth freshly brushed, so fresh breath all in order. I wished I had a giant pair of glasses to finish the look.

  Luca was staring at his phone when I approached him. “What are you doing here?” I whispered.

  “I wanted to be with you when I found out,” he whispered back. “Wait, why are we whispering?”