Tina looked older—it might have been the weight gain from the pregnancy, shorter hair, the dark-rimmed eyeglasses she wore for the plane ride. She joked about how large her bosom was: 34DD in her nursing bra. The last time they had all been together was the wedding, but the look of the bride was completely erased. The baby had come so soon, and Tina looked shocked herself that she had a child. “I have a son,” she exclaimed.
“It’s kinda nutty,” Casey said, grinning.
The men went to the living room. Chul chatted with Unu; they were comfortable with each other. Joseph went to the kitchen to get Chul a glass. Soon, they were all drinking whiskey and nibbling on o-jing-uh. The nature program was still on, the volume lowered—a lion tore into a hapless wildebeest. From the kitchen, the women could hear the clink of glasses and the calm male voices. Leah was less jumpy with Tina here. For a second, Casey thought, family happiness was completed: the immigrant family with two daughters in graduate school and two Korean boys from nice families, a grandson in tow.
At the dinner table, Chul said grace, and Leah smiled at him. Tina couldn’t have brought home a finer husband. Unu came from a better family, but Chul was sincere, still smitten with Tina. Leah tried to put the professor out of her thoughts.
The baby woke up only once to eat and have his diaper changed. Tina nursed her son in her childhood bedroom. Casey sat with her quietly as she did this. The baby drank greedily, then in a blink fell asleep again.
Tina and Chul gave Unu and Casey a lift to the city. They were going to stay at the Hilton in midtown for the night, even though Leah and Joseph wanted them to stay with them. Chul had to meet some colleagues very early in the morning at Roosevelt Hospital. The men sat in the front seat of the car and talked about the Baltimore Orioles—Chul’s hometown team and one of Unu’s favorites.
In the car ride, Casey noticed how little Tina spoke. She was utterly absorbed with Timothy. Casey admired the baby. How could you not? The infant was perfect.
“You are so lucky,” Casey said wistfully, wanting Tina to notice her. “Hey, Tina, I’m sorry about the baby shower. The finals kicked my ass. And I was freaked out about the school loans and the interviews. The tuition loans are huge. You have them, too, I know.” Tina didn’t seem worried about her loans, however.
“Oh, showers are stupid. And you sent that crib, Casey. It must have cost—”
“I figured a crib was better for everyone in the long run than the cost of my plane ticket, or flunking out of school. I would’ve liked to go.”
“Look at you. A year of business school and you’ve gotten all practical.” Tina laughed.
“That’s a scary thought.”
Tina stroked her baby’s lovely dark hair. At the baby shower that her girlfriend from school had thrown her, everyone had asked where her mother and sister were. Tina had explained that they were busy with work. Except for her father, who had always made her believe that she could do anything, her mother and sister could not be counted on. They could hardly take care of themselves.
Casey lowered her voice. “I wanted to give you back the money. To pay you back for your loans. This job I have this summer pays really well. If I get hired by them after I graduate, I probably will never have to worry about money again.”
Tina shook her head gently. “Forget it, Casey.”
“I’ll send you a check. I should have brought it.”
Timothy stirred, and both held their breath. He was still asleep. The men in front weren’t paying any attention to them, either. Tina tucked his blanket into the car seat. Her husband didn’t know about Casey’s abortion or that she had loaned Casey the money to leave home after graduation. All that seemed minor. Like childhood scrapes from a long time ago. They were supposed to be women now. Tina wanted to think about the future. She’d taken some time off from school, but she’d return in the fall of 1998.
Tina smiled and pointed. “Look at that. You still wear your Wonder Woman cuffs. I love them.”
Casey crossed her chest with her forearms, and they laughed. She glanced at the cuffs she’d worn since freshman year in college, one of the first presents Sabine had ever given her. She pulled one off her wrist.
“Here,” Casey said. “You take one.” She clasped it on her sister’s wrist.
“No. I couldn’t. They’re part of a set. And they’re yours. Wonder Woman needs two. You can’t break up the pair.”
“Then take both,” Casey said. “I never give you anything.” She removed the other one and put it also on Tina’s wrist. “They look great on you.”