Made in Korea

by Sarah Suk

  We fell silent, Uncle Hojin’s name hanging in the air between us. There it was again. For Dad, it always seemed to come back to his brother. He slumped in his seat, shaking his head. Mom covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Dad,” I said quietly. “Uncle Hojin, he’s happy. I know you worry about him a lot, but for him, music was a calling he couldn’t ignore. Just like it is for me. And I’m not your younger brother. I’m your son. Things can be different between us.”

  “How do you know what he does or doesn’t regret?” Dad said.

  “Uh… I may have been emailing with him since the school year started,” I confessed. I guess today was literally the day all my secrets came out.

  Mom and Dad both stared at me, saying nothing. Finally, Dad shook his head, rose from the table, and walked out of the kitchen. I watched him go in disbelief. That was it? He was walking away from this?

  “Where are you going?” I said.

  “Just let him go,” Mom said. “He needs to cool off.” She sighed, staring at me with a mixture of shock and disappointment and confusion. “Wes, I don’t understand. I never knew you were this passionate about going to music school. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You’re never really around,” I said. “And I guess I thought because Dad is so against it, you would be too.” Was I wrong? Could I have had Mom on my side this whole time if I hadn’t been so scared to talk to her about it?

  Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right that I’ve been busy. I’m sorry I haven’t been around to more, and it’s definitely something I want us to talk more about later. But there are other matters to discuss right now. Wes, you’ve been lying to us for a very long time.”

  I hung my head. “I know. And for that I’m really sorry, Mom.”

  “Sorry is one thing. But to undo the mistakes you’ve made with my team… Wes, how could you just go into my office and sell whatever you found in there? The sunscreen? The makeup pouches? I know I’ve been using it as a storage room all this time, but when I finally decided to start using it properly and move new things in there, I never dreamed you would go in and sell them.”

  “I really am so sorry,” I said. “What can I do to make it better?”

  She shook her head. “There is nothing. The team will handle it now. But you will give me all the profit you’ve made from the products I’ve given you.”

  My mouth dropped open. “All the profit? From everything?”

  “Good Lord, Wes, how much did you sell? Yes, everything. You need to understand that your actions have consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

  I bit my lip and nodded. This was my mistake. I had to own up to it. “I understand.”

  “Okay, then.” She sighed. “I’m going to go talk to your father.”

  She walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my acceptance letter on the table. I waited until Mom’s footsteps faded away and I heard the sound of a closing door before picking up the letter and opening it myself.

  I read it once. Then twice. Then three times.

  Dear Mr. Wes Jung,

  Our faculty was incredibly impressed by your moving and skillful saxophone audition. As such, we are pleased to offer you a spot in Toblie School of Music’s jazz program…

  I clutched the letter to my chest and breathed deep. Wow. I did it. I got into my top music school and I finally stood up to my parents.

  I can’t believe I did it.

  I! Did! It!

  I broke out into a smile. Even though Dad wasn’t speaking to me and Mom was taking all the money I’d raised and I had no idea what I was going to do next, this moment was enough for now. This victory was enough for now. It was like an extraordinary weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I was, at last, untethered.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN VALERIE

  Tuesday / April 21

  Hospitals are a weird place. I stared at the vending machine, rows of chip bags and chocolate bars staring back at me. Why don’t they have Hi-Chews in vending machines? I’d stayed the night with Halmeoni and run out of all my Hi-Chews, plus the Hi-Chews Wes had given me in the car. I begrudgingly chose a Kit Kat instead, the second-best option.

  As I headed back down the hall to Halmeoni’s hospital room, I spotted Samantha sitting cross-legged in a waiting-room chair, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone.

  “Hey,” I said, approaching her as I unwrapped my Kit Kat. “When did you get here?”

  She didn’t look up from her phone. “Just now.”

  “Are Umma and Appa here too?”

  “They’re in the room. Helping Halmeoni get ready to leave.”

  “Okay. Cool,” I said.

  The vibe between us was weird, but I wasn’t sure why. She had that look on her face again, the one I couldn’t quite place from yesterday.

  “What about Sunhee Eemo and Charlie?” I asked.

  “They’re going to meet us at the house later. No need for all of us to escort Halmeoni home. We wouldn’t even fit in one car.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. You didn’t have to come, then. Don’t you have finals to study for?”

  She tensed, finally looking up from her phone. I was surprised to see that her eyes were rimmed with red like she had been crying all night.

  “You’re missing school to be here,” she said. “I can too.”

  Silence fell between us, awkward and heavy. I didn’t know what to say, so I just took a bite of chocolate, the wafers sticking to my teeth.

  “Okay,” I said finally, just to say something. “Why are you sitting out here, then? Let’s go into the room.”

  “Umma and Appa told me to wait. So I’m waiting.”

  I scoffed. “Whatever. I’m going in.”

  “It really must be so nice,” she said, stopping me in my tracks as I turned to leave, “to be the youngest and do whatever you want. Is that why you’re Halmeoni’s favorite?”

  I whirled around, narrowing my eyes. “What the hell, Samantha? What are you talking about?”

  She glared at me, her lower lip quivering. I could tell she was trying to control it, to keep her face even and neutral, but her voice came out shaky. “You’re Halmeoni’s favorite. You always have been. She barely even notices me. I’m worried about her too, you know.”

  Seriously? Now I was angry. “Why do you need Halmeoni to notice you? You already get all of Umma’s attention.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “What’s not the same?”

  “Forget it,” she said, looking away.

  “No, tell me. Umma is constantly comparing me to you. ‘Why can’t you be more like Samantha?’ ‘Samantha did this, so why don’t you do it too?’ ‘You’re not as skilled as Samantha, as smart as Samantha, as capable as Samantha.’ She basically worships you. So what the hell do you have to complain about?”

  I was getting so heated that the strangers in the waiting room were throwing dirty glances my way, putting fingers to their lips with shushing noises. Samantha looked up at me, her eyes filled with angry tears.

  “Do you know how exhausting it is?” she said. “To try to please her all the time? To meet her expectations? We have the same mom, Valerie. You feel like nothing ever satisfies her? I feel like that too. Like if I slip up once, she won’t see me the same anymore. At least you have Halmeoni to support you. You go to her every time you have a problem with Umma, but who do I have to go to? Appa’s never around, and all the responsibility falls on me as the oldest. You can get away with disobeying Umma because you’re younger, but I have no room to make mistakes. I’ve always been jealous of you for that.”

  Her voice broke at the end and she wiped the tears roughly from her eyes. I realized then that they weren’t just angry tears. They were also tears of sadness.

  “I had no idea you felt that way,” I said quietly. I slumped into the seat next to her, the Kit Kat dangling from my hand.

  “Yeah, well.” She drew her knees into her chest. “I do.”

  We sat in silence. I held up
the chocolate bar.

  “Do you want a piece?”

  She paused and then took it from my hand. “Thanks.”

  “We really don’t talk about problems in our family, do we?”

  “Never.”

  “What do you think would happen if we did?”

  Samantha took a bite of chocolate as Halmeoni, Umma, and Appa appeared from down the hall, searching the waiting room for us. Halmeoni waved, smiling.

  “Honestly?” Samantha said, waving back with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I think things would stay exactly the same.”

  * * *

  Samantha’s words stuck with me the whole day. Even after Sunhee Eemo and Charlie came and went with lunch, after Samantha left to go back to her college dorm, after Halmeoni went to bed, and after Umma and Appa tucked themselves away into their room to talk in low voices, I thought about everything that was said and unsaid in our family. I was sitting in the kitchen with my chin propped in my hand, staring out the window, when Umma came downstairs. She looked tired.

  “Valerie, what are you doing in here?” she asked. “Do you want something to eat?”

  I shook my head. “Just sitting.”

  “I’ll cut you some fruit,” she said, reaching for a bowl of giant Korean pears on the counter. Korean pears are different from American pears. They’re bigger and rounder with yellow skin and a sweet, almost floral taste. She sat across from me with a plate and a paring knife and started peeling a pear.

  I watched her, taking in the dark bags under her eyes and the pinch between her forehead. “Umma,” I said.

  “Hmm?”

  “Did you suspect? That Halmeoni had Parkinson’s disease? Is that why you never wanted her to go out?”

  “Yes and no,” she said, not taking her eyes off the pear. “I didn’t know it was Parkinson’s. But I noticed she was getting clumsier. Slower and stiffer than she used to be. Here, eat this.”

  She held out a slice of pear to feed me. I let her.

  “Halmeoni said when you first immigrated here, she made a lot of mistakes,” I said. “She said it was hard.”

  “It was.”

  “Did Halmeoni ever treat you and Sunhee Eemo differently?”

  She laughed. “Where’s this question coming from?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  “Sure, she treated us differently when we were kids. Sunhee Eemo is older, so she had a lot more responsibility. I was more carefree.” She smiled wistfully. Maybe it was the hospital visit or the scare with Halmeoni that was bringing out the softness in her, but she was more open to talking than I’d ever heard her. “But after we immigrated here, it changed. There wasn’t room to be carefree anymore. We had to survive in a new country with new rules, and the three of us had to depend on each other to live well. It was a difficult time. But anyway. It’s all in the past. All I know now is that I don’t want my girls to grow up in hardship like Sunhee Eemo and I did. You will have good, successful lives.”

  Her words struck a chord in me, forming a lump in my throat. She held out another piece of pear for me, but I didn’t take it.

  “Umma,” I said, my voice coming out shaky. I folded my hands on the table and took a deep breath. “I know you’re hard on us because you want us to grow up to be hardworking people. But sometimes when you do that, you know, you make me feel like nothing.”

  She slowly lowered the pear, her brow creasing. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the way you speak to me. You always talk down to me, always compare me to Samantha, always make me feel like I’m never enough.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re my daughter. Why would I make you feel that way?”

  “But you do,” I said, my voice rising. “You put these expectations on me that are impossible for me to meet. Do you know what that does to me?”

  She looked at me in shock, like she truly didn’t know where I was coming from. “What are you talking about? I’ve only ever wanted you to feel safe.”

  “Safe from what? Myself?”

  “From the world! It’s not easy out there. I worry less about Samantha because she is responsible and listens to my advice, but with you, I worry more,” she said, her voice rising now as well. “You’re my youngest child, my maknae. I want you to live a good life, but you don’t do what I say. Even as a little kid, you never wore the clothes I picked out for you. Sometimes at the playground, I could hear the other kids and moms laughing at your outfits, saying you looked ridiculous. My daughter! Ridiculous! If you’d just listen to me like Samantha does, things like that wouldn’t happen and I would worry less.”

  “Why do you care so much about what other people think of me? What about what I think of me? Just because I’m not exactly like Samantha doesn’t mean I’m not good enough.”

  “Good enough? What are you saying? How should I have treated you, then?”

  “Like someone who’s worth something!” I cried. “Like someone who has good, smart, interesting thoughts and can do good, smart, interesting things. I’m not just your youngest daughter. I’m a person with feelings and talent, and I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for you to tell me that so I can really start believing it.” My voice was thick with tears now, but I pressed on. I needed to say these next words. “But I’m so tired of waiting, Umma. So tired. From now on, I’m going to believe it because it’s true, not because you say so.”

  She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “This is so sudden, Valerie. I don’t know where all of this is coming from. Let’s talk about it another day when we’re both less tired. Here.” She nudged the plate of pears closer to me before rising from the table. “Eat this whole thing. I’m going to bed for now.”

  I watched as she walked out of the kitchen. As predictable as it was for her to leave at such a tense moment, it didn’t hurt me when she left. Instead I felt something break free inside me. Maybe one day we really would talk about it again and she would come around. Or maybe Samantha was right and things would never change. I realized now that even if I did something big that Samantha had never done before, like traveling to Paris with the money I made from a business I started from scratch, Umma would continue to see what she wanted to see about me. Nothing I did would change her mind. But whether she stayed or walked away, I would stand by what I said. I would believe in myself because it was the truth, and I wouldn’t wait for anyone’s permission to do it.

  I finally let the tears slide down my cheeks. They were bittersweet tears, but mostly they were tears of relief at finally having said what I had always wanted to say. I picked up a pear and took a big bite.

  It tasted like freedom.

  Friday / May 1

  Somehow the day that Charlie had been waiting for all year had snuck up on us without us even realizing. Senior prom. I considered skipping out on the event altogether, but I couldn’t resist an opportunity to dress up. Even more important, there was someone there who I needed to see.

  Throughout everything with Halmeoni and Umma, Wes had constantly been in the back of my mind. I had to talk to him, and today was the day.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Charlie asked over speakerphone. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, curling my hair, the phone balanced precariously on the edge of the sink.

  “No way,” I said. “My dad is driving me. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of since sophomore year. Don’t let me third-wheel on you and Pauline.”

  “We’re just going as friends,” he said with a laugh. He cleared his throat. “But, uh, you saw the selfie I sent you, right? How’s my hair?”

  “Looks great. Perfect balance between putting in effort and not trying too hard.”

  “Okay. That’s what I was going for.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

  “Yeah.” I paused. “Thanks for calling and offering a ride. I appreciate it.”

  The words came out awkward and strange, but I was trying t
o practice saying them. To remind him, and myself, that I was grateful for him.

  “No problem,” he said. I could almost feel him smiling through the phone. “See you at school.”

  After curling my hair, I slipped into my prom outfit: a shimmery silver dress with a halter neck and a crisscross back. Simple but delicate. A perfect last-minute vintage find.

  I checked the time and took a deep breath.

  I had a prom to go to.

  * * *

  The school gym had been utterly transformed. Gold and silver balloons filled the room. Long tables decorated with antique candlesticks were laden with food, from finger sandwiches to ten different kinds of fancy chicken. Somehow the decoration team had even managed to hang an impressive chandelier from the ceiling. The DJ was set up in a corner of the gym, playing hit pop songs while students made their way onto the dance floor, screaming and grabbing one another’s hands as they spun, on the high of senior year.

  I scanned the gym. Kristy Lo waved at me from the dance floor, her bright red dress matching her newly dyed auburn hair. Beside her, Joanne Patel and Rebecca Sanders were wearing a dozen matching glitter bracelets that they’d crafted themselves, dancing up a storm. Natalie Castillo and Amelia Perry were cheesing it up at the photo booth, while Tina Pierce and Matt Whitman were making out in a corner of the gym. Just as Kristy had predicted at the beginning of the school year.

  Charlie and Pauline were standing directly under the chandelier, surrounded by friends, the glimmering lights illuminating their faces. They talked and laughed like they had been friends forever without a two-year break. Pauline looked amazing in a sparkly aquamarine mermaid dress. Seeing them together gave me an odd sense of hope. Maybe if Charlie could find a way to start new friendships with unexpected people, I could too.

  It was strange being at a school event where I wasn’t V&C K-BEAUTY. I was just Valerie. The first few days after I had announced on Instagram that V&C was out of business, I’d thought my world would fall apart. But mostly I’d just gotten a bunch of DMs from people saying they were sorry to see me go, that shopping with me had been their favorite part of Mondays. Ugh! Heartbreak!! Best OG student business ever , Kristy had texted me.