Second Chance (36 page)

Jae nodded. He
was very good at acting indifferent. “You’ll have to introduce me to this
brother of yours,” Jae said.

“Mmmm, what
brother?” Sue asked sleepily as she stretched and yawned. “What time is it?”

“Twelve-forty-three,”
Jae said.

“Are we there
yet?” Sue asked.

“Almost,” Mai
answered.

Sue straightened
the back of her seat. Yawning, she asked, “How long did I sleep?”

“The whole trip,”
Mai answered. “Take a right at the stop sign then right into that parking lot,”
Mai said pointing in the direction of a full parking lot.

CHAPTER
47

After dropping
Mai off at her dorm, Sue and Jae had stopped for gas and picked up some
toiletries then drove to St. Peter where they had checked into a hotel off the
highway. Jae was quiet all morning and last night after they made love, and Sue
sensed something was wrong. Not the love making. That had been blissful. This
time, nothing separated them and they came together as one, truly one.

It was the way he
held her afterwards. And the way he kissed her, as if he was kissing away some
hurt. That somehow, if he held her tight enough, kiss her long enough, she
would stop hurting.

That was exactly
what Jae was doing.

Sue was still
thinking, was it Cherry and Michael’s presence that was making him, well, Sue
couldn’t pinpoint it, she just had this feeling that… Gosh, he is quite
handsome is he not?

They had left in
such a hurry last night to send Mai back to campus, they didn’t think to bring
clothes. Jae suggested they purchase clothes, but Sue had declined, this time
with more restraint. And so now, they were traveling home with the same clothes
they wore the day before.

Sue wore faded
blue jeans with a light blue short-sleeved shirt, Jae’s black sweatshirt that
matched the sweatpants he wore and her Columbia parka.

Jae wore black
sweats with HEAT printed in faded white down his right leg, a graphic T-shirt
that made him look almost boyish, and the black coat with the faux fur-trimmed
hood Sue wore the day they arrived in St. Paul. Dressed in black, hair falling
freely over his forehead and a day’s growth of facial hair on his chin made him
look like the type of man a good Hmong girl was warned to stay away from. A
thuggish rogue. A very handsome, thuggish rogue. One look at him and her
parents would lecture her about divorce and abuse. But for the moment, watching
this beautiful man by her side, she could care less about proprieties.

“Suzy, what are
you thinking about?” Jae asked. “When you are looking at me like that, you are
thinking something notorious.”

“I was thinking
how gangster you look right now.”

“Gangster?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Jae laughed.
“Woman, you are daft.”

“What did you and
my sister talk about last night? Whatever it was, you seem…off today,” Sue said
still watching him.

“We talked about
you. She warned me not to ask you what and where is Hmong.”

“Sometimes I just
get tired of explaining, that’s all.”

Jae turned
briefly to look at her before turning his gaze back to the road. “Will you tell
me—about Hmong? I know very little about your culture and yet you know all
there is to know about mine.”

“Only because
there are literatures on the subject of your culture. I only know as much as
what I’ve read and the experiences I gained in South Korea. As for Hmong, I’m
afraid, there’s not a lot of information out there. And if there is, I can
guarantee you it had something to do with the Vietnam War, the refugee camps or
the Miao. Frankly, there’s very little mass cultural literature about the Hmong
in general and the information out there is…rather lacking. I don’t know why I
get so riled when it comes to this subject, but in a nutshell, there’s more to
a Hmong person than the Vietnam War or elaborate costumes. Then again, that can
be said about a lot of cultures. I don’t often allow a particular event in
history to become the identifying icon for a particular culture, yet, just as
often, I find myself doing just that. Sorry, I can get carried away. What do
you want to know about my culture?”

“Let’s start with
marriage traditions. Your sister told me some interesting stories last night.”

“Which ones?” Sue
asked, cautious.

“Your Hmong
weddings,” Jae said with a grin. “And hers.”

“Ah, now you know
the family shame. Do you realize this is the first time you’ve asked about my
culture?”

“Yeh.”

“How come you
never asked before…before you asked me to marry you in Seoul?”

“It didn’t matter
to me. I fell in love with you, everything about you. And at the time, I
thought we would have more time for me to learn. I was wrong.”

“You and your
sweet words,” Sue said, smiling. “The Hmong word for marriage is the same word
for to buy. In essence, it’s synonymous with making a purchase,” she began.
“The literal meaning for dowry in Hmong is
cost of the head
. It used to
be the parents of the bride that sets the price. Nowadays, I believe there is a
set price, though I think it varies from state to state. I’m not sure. Then
there are charges, like service fees, processing fees and delivery charges.
Sometimes there are hidden fees. Sometimes, there are even Clarence sales for
the shamed and lamed. Stop laughing,” Sue said smiling. In a mocking tone, she
continued, “Oh, your son took our daughter on a date without proper chaperones;
that would be an additional two-hundred please. And there was that time your
uncle said some rather nasty things about my uncle, that’s an extra two-hundred.
And don’t forget the clothes and food we fed her last night and that chicken we
bought to
hu plig
(blessing), that will be an additional, let’s see,
fifty for the clothes, twenty-five for the food, five for the chicken, that
brings your total to…” Sue pretended to punch the numbers on a calculator,
“eight-thousand-four-hundred-eighty, not including taxes and delivery charges.
Cash only. Visa and MasterCard accepted only by certain families. Lifetime
guarantee. May exchange or replace for another daughter if available, in the
event of a death or inability to sire male heirs. Sorry, no refunds.”

Jae was laughing
before Sue had finished talking.

“Stop laughing.
This is a serious purchase!” she said, trying her hardest to say it seriously.
When they stopped laughing, Sue continued, “Okay, so I’m biased and I over
exaggerated, but that’s usually how it works. My mother once explained to me
that they do this—requesting monetary dowry to assure that my husband will

love me. But I
still view it as a cold purchase when done in this way.”

“Why are you so
against this tradition of requesting monetary dowry for a wife? Many cultures
have similar practices with different forms of payment for a dowry, often
requiring the woman to have a dowry. What if I love you so much, want you so
much, I’m willing to pay whatever price to get your hand in marriage? Do you
still deny the love involved and say you are being purchased?”

“Feminist pride.
Lack of freedom. Pro choice?”

“Answer me.”

“There you go
again, with your sweet words that makes me all Jell-O-y.” She sighed. “I
suppose, yes. If you love me so much, want me so much, you’ll have enough trust
in me to allow me to make a decision on my own. What I’m talking about is the
practice of a man thinking he wants something and makes a purchase without the
woman’s consent. If it’s a mutual agreement, well, I could rant all I want, it
wouldn’t make any difference.”

“What about your
sister? She made the choice to marry on her own, why interfere?”

“She was young.”

“No different than
us.”

“My sister wanted
freedom and believed that marriage was the only way to obtain that freedom. She
was only sixteen. I just wanted her to wait, that’s all.”

“And you? Why did
you marry me in Seoul? Was it for the same reason?”

“Is it so hard to
believe that I married you because I loved you?”

“No.”

“Your turn. Why
did you ask me to marry you?”

“Is it so hard
for you to believe that I asked you because I loved you?”

“Honestly, I
don’t know. Did you?”

“I suppose I
deserve that. Yeh, I loved you. So tell me, how many husbands do you have?”

“Last I checked
I’m single.”

“Not even a
boyfriend?” he asked teasingly.

“Nope.”

“Then what am I?”

“My…lover?”

“Lover, eh?”

“Yep.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You make me—”

“Daft. I know,”
she said cutting him off. “Take the next exit and stay to your right.”

Chuckling, Jae
followed her directions as he asked, “Are you evading my question?”

“What were we
talking about?”

“Weddings?
Husbands?”

“Oh that, well,
let’s see…” Sue said as if in deep thought. She silently counted her fingers,
holding up her right hand and showing the number of fingers as she counted.
“Are you asking just Hmong weddings or others as well? Stay straight past the
lights to the ramp on the right.”

“Just how many
have there been since me?” he asked as he continued to follow her directions,
entering the ramp to the Mall of America.

“Patience is a
virtue,” she said, still pretending to count. “Would you believe four weddings
and a husband?”

“As long as that
husband is me, I don’t give a bloody care how many weddings you have,” he
answered, smiling.

They parked and
entered the mall on the second level to the rotunda of the Mall of America. The
mall was massive. Sue had been at the mall before but had not walked through
all the sections of the mall.

“What would you
like to do?” Sue asked as they stood in front of a kiosk. “Want to see fishes
or go on kiddie rides? Though, I don’t think you could go on most of the rides
here at Nickelodeon Universe.”

He grabbed her
waist and drew her to him then kissed her. “Lunch,” he murmured against her
lips.

Grinning, Sue
took hold of his arm and began walking. “Come on, Lefty. Let’s go feed you.”

They had lunch at
Rainforest Café, walked through Nickelodeon Universe, met SpongeBob and shared
a large Lychee bubble tea from the Tea Garden Café before stopping at Barnes
and Noble where Sue picked up a new book.

“Your boyfriend
looks like that Korean actor Khyba,” a cashier at Barnes and Noble said,
looking at Jae.

“Really?” Sue
asked, pretending to be surprised. Jae came up next to her by the register.
“Oppa, she thinks you look like this Korean actor, what’s his name?”

“Khyba,” the
cashier provided.

“Ah yes, Khyba,”
Sue said with excitement. “Isn’t that weird?” Sue said grinning at him.

Jae’s eyebrow
rose as he paid for the purchase. “Really?” he asked the cashier. The cashier
blushed. “I bet I look cuter,” he added, grinning. The cashier’s face turned
crimson.

“Vain today,
aren’t we?” Sue said laughing, leading him out of the store.

“Very,” he
replied, grinning.

CHAPTER
48

“This is
authentic local cuisine?” Jae drove Sue’s car into a parking lot.

“Yep. Shall we
eat in or take out?” Sue asked, looking at the snow falling on the ground.

Jae grinned.
“McKs? This is authentic local cuisine?”

“Very authentic.
Very…Americana.”

Jae laughed. “How
about we utilize the groceries we purchased?”

“You cook?”

“You want to try
my cooking?”

“Why not?”

Jae thought about
it. “I’m rather hungry. How about, you feed me and I’ll show you my favorite
dance?”

“Hmm, all right,
you have a deal,” she extended her right hand out for a shake. “No authentic
cuisine then?” Sue said, grinning, shaking his hand.

“I’ll pass.”

They made dinner
together. Nothing fancy, just rice with chicken stir-fry. It was the best meal
Jae had in years.

After dinner, he
assisted with loading the dishwasher. He did the honor of pushing the start
button. His face showed an expression of extreme satisfaction as he performed
the task, making Sue laugh.

“Are you laughing
at me?” Jae asked, turning to her. She was standing beside him by the kitchen
sink, her arms crossed at her chest, chuckling when he turned to look at her.

“Yes, I am.
Congratulations, Mr. Park, you’ve just started the dishwasher.”

He took a step
toward her, she took a step back. “What are you thinking?” she asked, her brows
narrowing in curiosity. He took a step toward her. She in turn took a step
back. “Jae?” she asked cautiously, uncrossing her arms and holding out a hand
to stop him from progressing toward her. He was grinning that wily grin of his,
slowly advancing toward her, prowling like an animal about to attack its prey.
“Don’t you dare—aaahhgh!” He grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her off the
floor.

He pulled her
into a tight hug, her chest pressing against his. He kissed her neck and she
laughed as he cradled her bottom. He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs
around his waist, locking them. He kissed a trail to her lips, brushing his
lips against hers, teasing her until she laced her fingers into his hair,
drawing him into full contact.

“Ready to dance?”
he murmured, nipping her bottom lip.

She was still
holding onto him, her legs straddling his waist. She rested her head on his
shoulder, steadying her breathing. She couldn’t speak so she nodded, her head
bumping his chin. She was still amazed that his kisses could still leave her so
breathless.

Jae thought the
same. He placed a kiss on her cheek. Holding onto her, he walked into the
living room. He placed her on the couch before dimming the living room lamp.