Since I have night blindness, Hae-in drives us home. My hand is in his. His callouses are rough, his fingers are blunt. The warmth of his hand in mine anchors me in the moment. I wish this moment in time could last forever. It is a wish that won’t be granted. Shadows form in the back of my mind. They whisper warnings to me that I will not heed. I have a choice, I can enjoy this moment or destroy it with worry and concerns. I refuse to do that. Too soon, we are at the bend in the road that takes us to Auntie Ji An’s house. The house lights are out when we pull into the drive. Only the porch lights are on at Auntie Ji An’s and Neighbor Song’s houses. The car rolls to a stop. We are here. I wait to see what Hae-in will do next. I am certain he will not make out with me in this car. We aren’t kids. He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it.
He clears his throat. I wait expecting a confession of some kind, none comes. I push down my disappointment. This is not a Korean drama. Neither Hae-in nor I were raised in Korea. We are Americans. We know about the Korean Culture and we have both experienced it, but we have not lived it. At least I haven’t. Hae-in releases my hand and we get out of the car. The instant the car doors close. The fierce bark of Gong Yoo echoes in the house. That damn that little dog!
A light is turned on inside. Auntie Ji An is now awake. Hae-in presses a kiss on my lips and rubs his nose with mine and says, “I had a good evening.”
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“Me too.”
He smiles, glances at Auntie Ji An’s front door and says, “Good night.” He flees.
I call after him, “Coward!”
He glances back and says, “No, a wise man.” His pace picks up as he heads to Neighbor Song’s back door.
I make my way to the porch, not eager to discuss my evening. The sound of Gong Yoo’s barks have been silenced. I brace myself and pull out my keys. I bet Neighbor Song is NOT waiting up for Hae-in. He won’t be grilled, but I am about to be. I unlock the door and walk inside. Auntie Ji An is on the couch holding Gong Yoo. He is gnawing on a chew stick. She looks up at me and smiles. The first question is lobbed at me, “So did you and Hae-in have a good time?”
“We did.”
“Good.” With Gong Yoo in her arms, she comes to me and gives me a peck on the cheek. This a tactic my mom used when I was in high school and had been out with friends. I know she’s not checking for alcohol but the distinctive smell of Old Spice. She chuckles as she walks away. She definitely smelled Old Spice. I am relieved she didn’t ask any more questions. I am not ready to talk about anything.