by Pamela Morsi
“Hey, who’s this hot chick you’re with?” I asked as my grandmother rose to her feet to hug me.
“Hot chick? Nate, really,” she scolded me, but I knew that any compliments were welcome with Grandma.
“Looks like a great day for a wedding,” I told her.
She huffed in disapproval and shook her head. “It’s foolishness that borders upon the bizarre,” she answered. “To think I’d have to sit through the consecration of this union twice in one lifetime.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“Grandma, we all know you’re crazy about Dad,” I told her.
With raised eyebrows and a sigh, she shrugged. “Well, he’s turned out better than he would have without her,” Grandma admitted. “And you children were certainly worth the sacrifice.”
An instant later her face was suddenly wreathed in smiles.
“Well hello there, little Miss Makayla! Don’t you look pretty today.”
She was conversing in her singsong granny voice for a couple of moments before turning her attention back to me, smiles disappearing.
“I always think ‘only children’ miss out on so much.”
I ignored the jibe and steered Jin and Little Mac away before any more missiles could be launched.
Jin’s parents were up near the front. Her father’s wheelchair was in the aisle and her mom sat in the pew beside him with Hye Won and David. Dave had started a new church for the Korean congregation in and around Lumkee. They’d moved back in with the Chais and were able to help on a round the clock basis.
As soon as we walked up, there was a burst of excited Korean chatter as Jin’s mother eagerly reached for Makayla.
I bowed deferentially to Mr. Chai.
“An-nyŏng-ha-sim-ni-kka? I said, greeting him respectfully with the polite question, “Are you at peace?”
“Ne, an-nyŏng-ha-se-yo,” he responded positively with only the barest hint of a nod to his head.
From the corner of my eye I spotted Cho Kyon gazing with approval. It was important to them that I was trying to learn Korean. I would never be the guy that they wanted their daughter to marry. But I figured it was maybe not so different from how Grandma felt about Dad. It was hard to look at healthy, happy, giggly Little Mac and be sorry that Jin and I had ever gotten together.
Gilk came walking up the aisle with my sister, Lauren, on his arm. She was looking really pregnant.
“You look wonderful!” Jin told her, gushing.
I agreed, but after listening to Lauren complain about how big the baby was getting, I said, “Yeah, and who knew you could carry them on your butt like that.”
Jin jabbed me in the ribs for the insult. But Lauren laughed. She knows me. If I’d been too kind, she would have worried.
We all sat on the front rows. Makayla sat between me and Lauren. She’d been going through this kind of demanding stage where she just refused to do anything her mother even suggests. You have to pick your battles with kids. You can’t make them do much, so laying down the law has got to be for the really important stuff.
She was still kind of pudgy, with little round cheeks and the sweetest little voice, which in an instant could turn into a loud, intolerable shriek. She didn’t do that much anymore. Being almost four, it was now possible to reasonably discuss things with her without her doing a brat-fit on the floor.
I suppose she was a little spoiled. Everybody made such a big deal over her. As more little cousins were born to Song and Hye Won, and to Lauren, it was sure to get easier.
I said as much to my sister.
“Do what you can,” I suggested.
Lauren gave me a raised eyebrow and shot back, “Just don’t get her a little brother. That could ruin a girl’s life.”
I made a face at my sister. Makayla saw it and giggled.
The music began. Mom and Dad walked down the aisle together. They were both smiling, happy, looking more at each other than at the crowd that had come to celebrate with them.
It was as if they had their own private joke going all the time. It had always been that way. I could remember wondering about that, marveling about it. What can he see in her? I’d thought. But I guess I’d learned a few things since then. A woman doesn’t have to be perfect for a man to love her. And I guess vice versa is just as true, as well.
The preacher gave a little sermonette about the sacredness of marriage and how such a bond can never truly be broken. I don’t know about that, but I was pretty impressed with the vows my parents made. They wrote them up themselves, so Mom’s sounded the best.
Mom said, “Sam Braydon, I promise to love you, cherish you and choose you for my husband every day of my life for the rest of our lives.”
Dad’s cut right to the heart of it.
“Corrie Braydon, I promise to be with you, provide for you and care for you always. No matter what happens next week or next year or forever.”
It was pretty cool, really, the way they talked to each other, so up-front, no holding back. I wondered how rare that was. I wondered if it was possible for just anyone.
I glanced over at Jin and caught her surreptitiously wiping a tear from her eye. Jin does not cry. Nothing gets to Jin. Jin is in control of the universe. The only time I’d ever even seen a chink in her armor was when we had the tornado. Anything that would threaten the baby could get to her. But nothing else. She was emotionproof. Or was she?
I don’t know what made me do it. But at that moment, without really even thinking about it, I picked up her hand and I brought it to my lips.
She turned to stare at me as if I’d lost my mind. But beneath her surprise I saw something, something deeper, something that maybe we could work with.
I’m a lot like my dad. Marriage really worked for him. For the first time in my life, I thought it might work for me.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-2836-8
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Copyright © 2004 by Pamela Morsi.
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