Kimchi & Calamari(41)

“Did you notice how Dominick helped Foxy put her shawl on? That’s a good sign. Seeing Foxy with a decent guy helps me sleep at night,” Mom said.

Dad was already stretched out on the couch, buried behind the newspaper. Mom was snuggled beside him.

“I need to talk,” I blurted out, looking from Mom to Dad. They raised their eyebrows nervously, like they were afraid that I’d messed up in school again.

Dad got up from the couch. “Let’s go in the living room.” He put his hand on Mom’s back and led us there.

The last time we spoke in the living room was when Dad gave me the “what-makes-boys-boys” spiel. He must have known this was serious.

I took a deep breath and told them everything. Dad’s arms were folded over his chest; Mom’s knees were crossed.

“I think Hea is my birth mother. Jae does too, but she says we should check this out with the adoption agency—just to be sure. Then she’ll talk with her aunt. So…I need your help.”

Dad swallowed. Mom kept nodding her head.

I shut my mouth and waited.

Mom spoke first. “Of course we’ll help. We know how much this means to you, Joseph. Right, honey?” She squeezed Dad’s hand.

Silence. The tick-tock of the hallway clock gave me something to concentrate on.

Finally Dad opened his mouth. “Have you thought this through, Joseph? About the search, what it means?”

I nodded.

“I understand being curious about your birth mother and where you come from, that’s natural. I just think it’s too soon to be doing this. You’re only fourteen.”

“Fourteen isn’t four, Dad. I found this out all by myself so far.”

“He can handle it, Vinny. Joseph needs to do this.”

Mom was like a human bridge trying to connect Dad and me. But Dad kept shaking his head—not angry, because the Mad Meter wasn’t running, but not ready to join my search party either. Yet I could tell he was trying, in his Dadish way, to understand.

“It’s like you starting college, Dad, after all these years. You said you made decent money with the business, right? But that wasn’t enough. There was more to you than just washing windows. Well, it’s the same with me.”

Dad rubbed his fingers slowly over the top of his cast. Then his eyes met mine, and I knew: he’d help.

“Maybe we can call the adoption agency on Monday,” he said softly.

I felt relieved, like someone had taken an elephant off my back.

Mom’s eye shadow sparkled and her whole face lit up. “I’m off on Monday. I’ll call.” Sure, she’d do the leg-work, but this was the most involved Dad had ever been.

I told them how Jae said her aunt gave birth close to my birthday, right there in Pusan, and how the baby disappeared and was never mentioned again. And I wrote down Jae’s phone number for Mom, in case the adoption agency needed to contact her directly.

“Guess what? Hea has a brother with my Korean name, Duk-kee. I was probably named after him.”

“Or maybe there are thousands of Duk-kee’s running around Pusan,” Dad added, “like all the Giovannis in Sicily.”

Mom frowned at him. “Will you please try to be positive?”

“She’s my birth mother. I know it,” I said, purposely not looking at Mom. I just couldn’t.

“Are they Christian, Joseph?” she asked. “Remember how I told you that the note from your birth mother asked that you be placed with a Christian family?”

“I think so.” Actually, I’d forgotten to ask Jae that. But a gut feeling told me this would match up too, just like everything else Jae had said. Like the stars and planets on Mom’s astrology charts when things were meant to be.

The clock chimed. Midnight. Mom yawned. We got up and headed upstairs.

“Joseph?” Dad called when I reached the top step.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Doesn’t matter if they’re Korean, Italian, or Swahili—families are never perfect. Whatever you find, it’s okay. You’re my boy.” He looked choked up.

“Don’t worry,” I said, and inside I felt happy that Dad was thinking about me that way. And that my parents and I were finally in this together.

“Go to bed, Mr. Tough Guy,” Dad said, and he took Mom’s hand as they walked toward their room.



I woke Monday morning even before Spider-Man zapped me with his danger alarm. My head felt like a two-lane highway with thoughts whizzing in opposite directions: first on contacting Hea after Mom spoke with the agency, and second on making plans for the Farewell Formal. Time was running out. I had to bite the bullet and ask Robyn. And I’d promised Nash that I’d get Dad to write the note for Ok-hee.