by Jenny Lee
“I don’t even know what her you’re referring to, bruh,” Steven replied, abiding by the bro code. If Dustin didn’t want to talk about Kimmie, then who was he to go against his wishes? Steven wondered whether Dustin might be interested to hear that the Count was out of the picture when it came to Kimmie, but at the same time he had heard from Lolly that Kimmie was still wigging out over the whole thing, so perhaps he needed to let things cool down.
Even though Steven had been warned by both his parents not to talk about private family affairs with outsiders, he knew he could trust Dustin to keep what he’d seen a secret. Steven also knew Dustin had family drama of his own. Everyone knew Dustin’s older brother, Nicholas, had been in and out of rehab for years, and as far as he knew that’s where he was right now. Heroin was something Steven had never tried, mainly because he was afraid he’d like it too much. He hadn’t tried meth, either, but that was more due to his misguided notion that meth was the drug of choice for the poor.
Steven considered the possibility of his father knowing that his wife slept with other men, but dismissed the notion quickly. Steven’s father was proud, as many Korean men were. It seemed a man would lose face immediately if he had a wife who had lovers on the side. His parents were certainly not the type to have an open marriage. Not a chance. Privacy, the protection of the family name, and Anna were his father’s top priorities, and Steven experienced firsthand how angry his father could become if anyone jeopardized those things. Steven shook his head, pissed with his mother for putting him in this terrible position. This was exactly the kind of shit Steven didn’t like to think about. Above my fucking pay grade, he thought to himself.
Steven knew exactly what would get his mind off his troubles: cocaine. But he didn’t have any on him, and he didn’t have any weed, either. Lolly was insisting on a drug-free Valentine’s Day, telling him she had special things planned that would make Steven high without the use of mind-altering substances. Steven smiled for the first time since the whole thing went down. Lolly had surprised him by being pretty wild in the sack right out of the gate. He had high expectations for the day’s festivities and had splurged on her Valentine’s Day gift, getting her a Cartier Love bracelet in rose gold. He had gotten his dad’s permission to charge it, and his father had said no at first, but Steven alluded to a little trouble in paradise and that he really needed to make up for some misdeeds on his part. Steven’s father liked when his son owned up to his mistakes and agreed, though Steven knew his father would probably use the nine-grand charge against him at a later date.
Steven’s stomach rumbled, which was when he decided he would wait upstairs in the room for Lolly and order room service. He needed food and fast, which was precisely when he remembered the two Hot Pockets he’d left in the microwave at home. Steven slammed his fist into his thigh over the error. Now his mother would know he had been home for longer than his note suggested. Steven briefly considered going home and getting rid of them, but that seemed too risky. The last thing he wanted was to run into his mother, or worse yet, Mr. Back Tattoo.
If his mother brought up the Hot Pockets, he’d play dumb and hope for the best. Yes, what more could he do?
Damn, he thought, Valentine’s Day is one crazy fucked-up day.
IX
The Westminster Dog Show was one of the few remaining benched dog competitions left in the country, the idea being that each dog waiting to be judged was given a designated spot in a holding area so that attendees could walk around and view the dogs up close while their owners, handlers, and groomers gave them last-minute touch-ups. Anna had been a dog lover her entire life and had attended Westminster many times as a child. Her favorite part was walking around and looking at the dogs before they entered the ring.
Her father had always taken her, and it was here at the show when she told him that one day when she was grown up, she would have a dog win a ribbon at Westminster. Anna’s father told his daughter that he was positive if she put her mind to it, then she would surely make it so. Now, ten years later, Anna had accomplished half of her goal, and though she didn’t know it, she was the youngest owner in the arena.
Her father was in Singapore on business and wasn’t able to be there with her, but he had woken up in the middle of the night and FaceTimed her to wish her and Jon Snow of the Wall the best of luck. The Working Group was due to be judged within the hour.
Anna loved her father and knew how much it pained him to not share this moment with her, but he assured her she had more than earned her place as one of the twelve hundred owners showing their dogs in this world-famous competition. She was touched to have received his call. Her father had raised her to be grateful for the important moments in life, and she made a point to savor today.
As much as she enjoyed her close relationship with her father, she saw it came at a price, which was the effect that it had on their family as a whole. The way her father spoke to Steven, his tone so stern and demanding, was shocking to her. It was true that Steven had started getting into trouble as early as the fifth grade, but even before that, Anna couldn’t help but notice how differently he treated them.
Anna’s Korean grandmother once commented on it as well, telling Anna over lunch one day how lucky she was to be treated like gold by her father. She explained in her halting English that in Korean culture, daughters were considered expendable and were never valued as highly as the sons. The sons had the family name and it was their duty and honor to take care of the parents, while daughters would grow up and marry, joining their husband’s family, which meant all praise or shame they garnered in their lives would be reflections not on their father’s good name, but their future husband’s.
“My daddy doesn’t think that way. Probably because he’s more American than Korean,” Anna had responded without thinking about her audience.
“Your father is Korean first, and will always be,” her grandmother said with a ferocious scowl. “You’d do well to follow his example!” And then her grandmother reached over with her long red nails and pinched Anna’s arm. Anna, only ten years old at the time, cried out, more from surprise than pain. She didn’t shed tears in front of her grandmother, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. Instead she excused herself and wept alone in the ladies’ room.
Anna had no intention of telling her father what had happened, but when she knocked on his study door to say good night, as she did every night, he pulled her into his lap. He asked about her visit with her grandmother and Anna, not wanting to lie to his face, buried her face in her father’s shirt and said it was fine and how much she liked her truffle French fries, which was the only thing she had enjoyed about the visit.
Knowing his daughter well, he pressed her for details, and reluctantly, Anna told him everything her grandmother had said. Emboldened as she went along, Anna showed him the faint pink mark that remained from her grandmother’s pinch. Anna’s father’s face went stone cold as he listened to her story. He then told her, using a tone of voice that he promised wasn’t because of her, that he was displeased with his mother; her views, he said, were from another time and place. What he didn’t share with Anna was that it was his mother’s old-fashioned thinking that had caused her to have a terrible relationship with her own daughter. His mother and his younger sister Jules hadn’t spoken in years and had left him stuck in the middle of an unflinching standoff.
“You, my lovely daughter, are not expendable. You’re the most precious thing I have in the world, and I’m never giving you up to another family. All your accomplishments will be for your own name when you grow up.” He then kissed her head and finished by saying: “But for now, you’re mine, and mine alone!”
Anna giggled, happy to hear her father’s words match everything she had thought herself. “Does that mean you’ll never let me marry?” she asked, half teasing and half serious because some of this talk was a little over her head.
Her father laughed, not a sound she often heard. He told her no, but she should know that
he’d never allow her to marry someone who wasn’t worthy of her. And so far in all his years on the planet, he had never met a person who fit that description.
Anna threw her arms around her father’s neck and declared she loved him best. No one made her feel as safe and loved as he did. She knew she was lucky to have him for a father, so she told him she would always make sure she was a good girl he could be proud of.
“You’ll soon find that doing the right thing is rarely the easy choice. But I promise you’ll sleep better at night because of it.” And with that, he kissed his favorite child good night and sent her to bed.
Anna thought about that evening often over the years, because the whole incident left her with so many conflicting emotions. The next day her mother came into her room and sat her down for a talk. Anna had expected her to be supportive in the same way her father had been, but that’s not what happened.
Her mother told her that her father had called her grandmother and yelled at her for pinching Anna, using a voice that she had never heard him take before. Obviously, her grandmother was not pleased to be talked to that way by her favorite son, so she hung up the phone on him. Anna’s mother had always suffered a strained relationship with her Korean mother-in-law, who would never quite look her in the eye, because she deemed her unworthy of her son. Anna’s mother told her that her father was an important and very busy man and that these small matters would be better kept from him in the future because now it was going to take a while for everyone to get past what had happened.
Anna was so surprised by her mother’s reprimand that she just nodded mutely. After her mother left her room, Anna cried, and wrote in her diary that she loved her daddy more than her mommy because he was nicer and better and obviously loved her more, too. Ashamed at putting her feelings down on paper and afraid they would be found out later, she tore out the page, ripped it up, and flushed the torn scraps down the toilet.
Anna hadn’t thought about that second part of the memory in a long time. She and her mother weren’t very close, and if she had to say why, it was probably because of this very incident. In that moment, it was like her mom had declared her allegiance and shown where her true loyalties lay, not with her daughter but with her husband. Sometimes she wondered whether her mother was jealous over how her father doted on her. She and her father had far more in common, similar in so many ways. They were both quiet and calm, though socially adept, calculating but not cold. And of course they shared a love of dogs, admiring them for their simple natures and unconditional love. Anna checked the time and hurried back to find Lee Ann, her dog handler, and wish her well before the judging … and to give Jon Snow a good luck kiss on the snoot, for good measure.
X
As Anna made her way through the large backstage area, a familiar voice called out to her. “Darling girl, is that you?” Anna stopped in her tracks and turned around to see Geneviève R., Vronsky’s mother, standing near the bench of a majestic Russian wolfhound named Tolstoy, who had won Best in Breed and was waiting to go before the judges in the Hound Group, which would start right after the Working Group. Anna smiled and greeted the lovely woman warmly, taking in her incredible Tom Ford slate-blue pantsuit.
“Hello, Mrs. R. It’s wonderful to see you again,” Anna said happily. She was pleased to see Vronsky’s mother, but the reason her heart started beating rapidly in her chest was because she now had even greater hopes her son would be here as well. Geneviève introduced Anna to Tolstoy’s owner, explaining that he was going to be the stud for next year’s litter and she was promised one of the puppies. Anna congratulated the owner for her win and was pleased when the woman knew exactly who she was, and her not-so-little dog, too.
“Speaking of, I need to get back to him. Again, it was so lovely to see you.” But Anna couldn’t make herself leave quite yet.
“You know, I was just asking Alexia about you,” Geneviève said, as though divining Anna’s thoughts. She waved her hand in the air and continued with a knowing smile. “He’s around here somewhere.”
Anna asked Geneviève to say hello to her son and then started to head off. Geneviève wished Anna good luck. “I’ll be keeping an eye out for Jon Snow.”
He’s here. He’s here. He’s here, Anna thought as she quickly made her way toward her own bench. She felt foolish for being so happy about it, but she couldn’t help it. She had felt his presence and was glad to know she could trust her senses when it came to such things.
An hour later Jon Snow placed second in his group, which meant he would not be advancing to the main event where Best in Show would be crowned. Anna was disappointed, of course, but she reminded herself that Jon Snow was only two and a half years old, which was much younger than most of the other dogs he competed against. The dog who had won Best in Show the previous year was four years older than him, so he had plenty of time to become the one true king of Westminster. Second place would bring a ribbon home, which meant she had now achieved her goal of showing a dog and winning a ribbon.
During the competition, she had scanned the crowd hoping to spot Vronsky and his mother in the stands, but she never located them. Anna knew Geneviève would tell her son they had run into one another, so she forced herself to remain patient and let him find her. Tracking him down herself would give the wrong impression, something she was already worried she had done at the dance club.
Anna left her seat in the main arena and started to make her way back to the bench area when she received a call. It was Alexander. She was about to answer it, but as she stared at the picture of her bf’s face on the screen, she couldn’t make herself accept the call. Instead she ignored it, quickly texting him her second-place news and telling him she’d call him later. He immediately texted back: CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!! with balloons, but she had put her phone back before seeing his message.
When she arrived at Jon Snow’s empty bench, Alexia Vronsky was waiting for her. He was standing there admiring the next dog over, a feisty tri-colored corgi named Scribbles. Vronsky was wearing perfectly fitted jeans, a slim-cut T-shirt, and a navy Thom Browne sports coat expertly tailored to his build. His blond hair looked shorter than it had when she last saw him, but it was still long enough to hang slightly over his eyes. She watched as he brushed his hair out from his face. His baby blues were just as dreamy as she’d remembered them.
Anna stood there and admired him from a slight distance unnoticed. Just before she was about to walk up out of the crowd and say hello, she felt something goose her in the backside. Jon Snow’s favorite greeting, for dogs and humans, was nudging his giant snout into a butt. He had just arrived from the winner’s circle and was amped up from all the excitement. Twin four-inch strands of drool hung from his jowly mouth. Anna turned around and crouched on the floor, wrapping her arms around his big furry neck, and he returned her enthusiasm by knocking her over. This was a common occurrence in their owner-pet relationship as Jon Snow outweighed Anna by sixty pounds. Very much accustomed to such things, Anna laughed and inspected her outfit for the inevitable splotch of drool.
After she untangled herself from Jon Snow’s mane, Anna looked up to see Vronsky gazing down at her, flashing a smile as he offered her a hand to help her to her feet.
“Are you sure you can handle the slobber?”
“I’d love to handle any slobber associated with you,” Vronsky replied in his most charming voice.
Anna laughed at his response and took his hand, his palm warm, his grip firm. He helped her up and soon they were standing face-to-face where they struggled through the motions of an awkward half hug, somehow managing not to touch at all, betraying every instinct and desire to do the opposite.
“Count Vronsky, meet Jon Snow of the Wall, second best of the Working Group, though I disagree,” Anna said. “Jon Snow, meet Count Vronsky, best in his breed. Shake.” Her Newfie did as he had been taught and held out his paw, which Vronsky shook with a smile. He then took a knee and gave the giant dog a proper greeting.
Ann
a watched the whole thing with a huge smile until she remembered where she was, rushing over to Lee Ann and congratulating her on a job well done. Lee Ann handed Anna the large sea foam–green ribbon, which she took happily. Her plan was to have it framed for her dad when he arrived home from Asia.
Jon Snow was exhausted from his big day and rightly so. He made an anxious whimper that probably meant he wanted to see his sister, Gemma, and curl up with her for a much-needed nap. After Vronsky took a few pictures of the happy occasion, Lee Ann’s assistant led Jon Snow away to her hotel room. Lee Ann said good-bye and rushed off to watch the dogs being judged in the next group.
And just like that, Anna and Vronsky were alone together. Even amongst the swarms of people, it felt like they were the only people in the Garden.
“Can I take you to a late lunch?” Vronsky asked, the din of the crowd fading around his voice.
“Yes, sure, sounds fun.” She knew she should feel somewhat guilty, but all she felt was hungry, thirsty, and happy. What was the big deal? It was just one little lunch.
XI
Anna had never been to Keens Steakhouse before, but she knew it was a place her father and brother frequented after taking in a game at the Garden, where her father had four courtside seats. At one point in time, Keens, which was over one hundred and thirty years old, had a strict policy that barred women from eating there. When she walked into the large bar area and took in the masculine décor—lots of wood and leather—she noted that the place still didn’t seem to court a female clientele.
“Are you sure you’re okay with it here?” Alexia asked. “We can go somewhere else.”
