Dirty Secret
Page 24
“They intend to give the money back,” I informed him. “Both of your sons don’t want it.”
“It was always for them,” Dae-Hoon said. “I never expected it to get so out of hand. I truly didn’t. It was supposed to be only a little bit to help them with schooling if they needed it, but one person told another, and soon, men were giving me money so I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“You could have always said no,” I broached. “It’s a pretty common word.”
“What are you going to do now?” He flinched when I shrugged. “Are you going to tell them?”
“I think they’d rather have you than the money.” I dug out my notebook and jotted down David’s local phone number. Tearing off the page, I handed it to Dae-Hoon. “They’d probably at least like to know you’re alive. Shin-Cho could use some support, being gay and everything, and David’s grieving. Call them, Dae-Hoon. They’re your sons. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking my boyfriend to a dinner at my brother’s.”
He led me to the door, still clutching the paper in his hand. Nodding numbly at me, Dae-Hoon closed the screen door behind me. Clearing his throat, he called my name. “McGinnis?”
“Yeah?” I turned, digging my keys out of my front pocket.
“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured. “It’s been so long.”
“Start with hello,” I suggested. “Then work your way to I’m sorry. After that, there’s nowhere to go but up.”
I’D PICKED up the cake before grabbing Jae from the house. He held it in his lap, picking at the tape keeping the pink box closed until I scolded him. Pouting, he made a face at me and sniffed at the cardboard, his frown growing deeper.
“This smells like box,” he complained under his breath.
“That’s because I know you,” I said. “There’s a plastic container in there holding the cake. I didn’t want you picking the maraschino cherry off the top before we got there.”
Maddy opened the door for us, giving me a huge hug before taking the cake from Jae. He leaned over to slip his shoes off, and she was waiting for him, laughing when he squirmed in her arms and glared at me. I saluted him with the cake box Maddy’d given me, and headed toward the kitchen.
“Where’s Mike?” I asked her.
“He went with Tasha to get ice cream,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Apparently one can only get a certain brand of mint chocolate chip, but no one told me what that was.”
The mats were still in place, and the room smelled of orange sauce and meat. A variety of vegetables in different stages of being sliced were laid out on the counter, and a bag of corn ears waited to be divested of their silk. I set the cake down on the counter and undid the tape. Pulling out the container inside, I turned it so Jae could see it.
“It’s a chocolate cake.” He examined it, then gave me a skeptical look.
“No, not just chocolate,” I corrected smugly. “This is a dobash cake. See that half cherry on the top? That’s mine.”
“It’s a chocolate cake,” Jae repeated.
“Dobash.” Kissing the corner of his mouth, I shooed him away from the counter. “We lived in Hawai’i for about six months when I was a kid. I don’t remember a lot about it… mostly sand and getting sunburned, but I did remember this cake. It’s not just chocolate. It’s like milky cream chocolate orgasm. A very big difference.”
“Don’t get him started on that cake.” Maddy dismissed my treasure with a wave of her knife. “And if you want a zombie cherry, Jae, there’s a jar in the fridge. Don’t let Cole tease you with it.”
“Trust me, Mad Dog,” I smirked at her. “When I tease Jae, it’s not about cherries.”
I was saved from her snappy rejoinder by the house phone going off. She slapped my hand from the carrots and reached for the handset. With her back turned, I raided the carrots, offering one to Jae. He turned his nose up at it, choosing a fresh pepper instead. Biting into it, he grinned and kissed my mouth, leaving a burning tingle on my lips.
“No, he’s not home. Can I take a message?” Maddy motioned for me to pass her a pen from the cup on the counter. She froze in place, listening carefully to what the caller was saying. “Wait, hold on. Please… just hold on.”
“What?” My stomach dropped. I came up behind Maddy, touching her side. “What’s wrong? Is it Mike?”
“It’s a man from Tokyo calling about your mother,” she said haltingly. Maddy was pale as she handed me the phone. “You need… to talk to him. He… Cole… he says he’s your brother.”
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About the Author
RHYS FORD was born and raised in Hawai’i, then wandered off to see the world. After chewing through a pile of books, a lot of odd food, and a stray boyfriend or two, Rhys eventually landed in San Diego, which is a very nice place but seriously needs more rain.
Rhys currently has a day job herding graphics pixels at an asset management company with a fantastic view of the seashore from many floors up and admits to sharing the house with three cats, a black Pomeranian puffball, a bonsai wolfhound, and a ginger cairn terrorist. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Qosmio laptop, and a red Hamilton Beach coffeemaker.
Visit Rhys’s blog at http://rhysford.wordpress.com/ or e-mail Rhys at rhys_ford@vitaenoir.com.
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