Casey heard the television go on in the living room. The men would be watching some nature program. Her father could watch those things forever. They weren’t talking anymore.
“Is he nice to you?” Leah asked quietly in Korean.
“He’s a kind person. Much nicer than me.”
“That’s good. A man should love more than the woman.”
It was such a typical thing for her mother to say.
“Can you bring out some ahn-ju for your father?” Leah handed her a wooden bowl filled with dried cuttlefish, and Casey brought it to the men. They were watching a show on PBS on lions. Unu said thanks, and Joseph said nothing. He pushed the bowl toward Unu, who grabbed a handful; then Joseph took some for himself. Both their glasses were full of whiskey.
“More ice,” Joseph said, and Casey went to get some.
Her mother sat as she put the prepared food into platters and bowls.
“You don’t look right,” Casey said to her mother after filling a white Corning bowl with ice cubes. They didn’t have a proper ice bucket in the house.
“Umma is okay. Don’t worry,” Leah said, but actually she wanted to die. It would be easier if she were dead—this pain, unbearable. She was ruined forever, soiled. Had he been serious about coming to get her? And what would it be like to live in that house in Brooklyn? Who would take care of her husband, who was no longer young, who had worked all of his life to take such good care of her and their daughters? What would Casey and Tina think?
“How is school?”
“Fine,” Casey said. “I have terrific grades, but this summer job is tough as—” She stopped herself from cursing. The word shit or damn might have knocked her mother over. She looked so frail. Besides, what was the point of explaining her need to get an offer? Her parents didn’t understand these things. It was her job to bring home success or not to come home at all. The mechanics of success were her problem. “Maybe you should see a doctor. About the cough.”
“Umma is okay.” Leah folded up the brown paper bags that the food had come in. “How is Unu’s work? Is he doing okay?”
“He’s not working right now.”
“Oh?”
“He’s taking some time off. He’s trying to figure out what he wants to do.”
Wasn’t that what her daughter had said after graduation?
“How old is he?”
“Older than me.”
Her mother looked at her exhausted.
“He’s thirty. Thirty-one in August.”
Leah nodded. He was not young anymore.
Casey resented the quiet judgment. She’d always assumed that Unu would get the same job elsewhere. It hadn’t dawned on her that it might take him this long to find work. It had been four months. Hardly an eternity, but the way he was looking for a job, or not looking for a job, was disturbing. There were money problems, naturally. That was obvious, but it was mostly from the gambling, not merely the job loss. Hugh had said Unu’s problem was serious, distinguishing a kind of gentlemanly betting from a moral failure.
Ted Kim had made it plain on a number of occasions that the way you got a job on Wall Street was through contacts. If you were good, you were contacted. If you were hot shit, everyone in your field monitored your happiness. If things looked a little glum for you, a rival company would swoop into your life, make you an offer impossible to refuse. Get a better life, an upgrade, a bigger piece of the pie. Was this true? Ted was a big talker, but his landing was cushy after what had been his moment of public disgrace. Unu wouldn’t have disagreed entirely with Ted’s assessment. For Unu’s kind of job and at his level, you wouldn’t be reading the classifieds. And as for headhunters, the aphorism they followed was: The hired were hired away, the fired would stay that way. If what Hugh said about Unu’s gambling was true, did others on the Street think this as well? Could Hugh have discussed it with Walter? What were the chances that Unu might get hired for a senior position? She’d never before considered what people in the industry thought about her boyfriend. They weren’t even married. Her future wasn’t tied up with his, she told herself. He would get something. Of course he would.
The baby was here. Swaddled in his yellow-and-blue blanket, Timothy was drowsy from his last feeding, his tiny features peaceful. Joseph was visibly gleeful holding his grandson in his arms. Leah cried from happiness, and Tina held her. Her coughing dissipated some. Leah couldn’t hold the baby for fear of getting him sick.
Casey was glad to see Tina and Chul, too. The apartment felt happier with them in it. Her younger sister looked exhausted, but nevertheless pleased to be home. The flight was long, Chul admitted, but the baby had been good. Slept most of the way and was peaceful when awake. Only a little crying at takeoff and landing.