Page 44 of Septembers

A red car blinked its lights when they walked out of the station, and Dae’s sister rolled down the window, yelling, “Yoo hoo!”

Theo had almost forgotten how absolutely delightful she was. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say ‘yoo hoo’ outside of the Bugs Bunny Show.”

“She’s trying to embarrass me.” Dae opened the backseat door for him, then got in the front, giving Min a stare. “Stop it.”

She put on a Very Serious Face and used a Very Serious Voice. “Hello to you too, Older Brother.” She’d cut her silky, thick hair into a stylish short bob that swung as she turned her head. “Theo! It’s about time you made the trek to Toronto-Lite. I could give you a tour, hit up all the artsy⁠—”

“We don’t have time.” Dae switched to Korean and the two of them bickered. Or at least, that was what it sounded like.

“Okay, fine.” Min winked at Theo through the rearview mirror. “But you have to promise to come back for a full weekend.”

“Promise.”

The drive was quick, with Min chatting the entire way, and then they were pulling up to a house that had a front yard, back yard, and a driveway. Theo didn’t know people living in a city could have so much space.

Inside, chaos unfolded under a cloud of spices and steam. Dae’s mom yelled something in Korean while his dad shook Theo’s hand and made introductions to grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and friends, then told him there’d be a test later. Classic dad joke. He even looked the part of a classic dad: tall and sturdy with greying hair, round glasses framing thick-lidded eyes, and a wide friendly smile. Theo attempted his one Korean phrase and was rewarded with a clap on the back and a hearty laugh.

He didn’t understand where Dae got his shy gene from. His family was outgoing, loud, and funny. A few of them asked to touch his hair, which he was more than happy to oblige. Talking to them was easy, even if his grandparents’ English was spotty. They’d only moved to Canada last year, which Theo learned when Dae went to cook with his mother and refused to let him help. Even Min wouldn’t let him set the table, which she argued had always been her job because she was useless in the kitchen.

Everyone wanted to do something for him: a drink from Dae’s dad, a snack from his aunt, even a wrapped hard candy from his grandma.

It was like a punch of understanding straight into Theo’s chest. This was where Dae got it: his generosity, his helpfulness, his kindness… His family had ingrained it in him, probably from the moment he was born.

And Theo? What had his family ingrained in him?

He took a deep breath, sucking in the steam floating from the kitchen, hoping to burn away the weirdness starting to swirl in his gut.

Min’s friends were huddled on the couch getting grilled by her aunts about their plans for the future, a fate Theo avoided by asking Dae’s dad to show him old pictures.

He lit up like Theo had given him an award and then showed him a cabinet with school yearbooks, photo albums, and dusty frames. Theo wanted more, wanted to see little Dae with his atrocious bowl-cut, smiling unabashedly. It confused his heart to see how he was in Korea: full of joy, silliness, and funny faces. Then the pictures shifted to Canada, and he began to change. His smile faded into the tight-lipped line Theo knew, his eyes rarely met the camera, and his shoulders hunched. It made Theo profoundly sad in a way he didn’t know how to hide.

Hands snatched the album away.

“Who gave you this?” Dae wasn’t angry or even annoyed, just embarrassed.

“Your dad.” Theo scanned the room for him. He hadn’t even noticed when Mr. Moon had left his side.

“Of course he did.” He shook his head and shoved the album under a couch cushion, then beckoned him to the table. “Lunch is ready.”

‘Lunch’ was a feast. They’d put three tables together (the fact that some people owned fold-out tables blew Theo’s mind) and had covered them in beautifully embroidered tablecloths. Almost every inch was occupied with a delicious smorgasbord: fish, noodles, soup, rice, chicken, a savoury pancake thing, kimchi, egg rolls, and more dishes he couldn’t identify.

The afternoon was a cacophony. English mixed with Korean that gradually rose in volume as the alcohol flowed. Theo sat at the end of the table with Dae, trying to catch snippets of conversation but also happy to just watch and listen. He’d never been to a big family meal before, and it felt like he was an anthropologist exploring a new, beautiful world.

One of Dae’s uncles called to his mom in Korean, asking a question that she answered, laughing, and a word caught Theo’s attention.

“Wait.” He turned to Dae, who had suddenly become very interested in his plate. “They all know my nickname?”

He refused to answer, so Min jumped in. “We’re a chatty family.”

“I noticed.” The other end of the table erupted in laughter, and it seemed the younger generation was forgotten. “What does it mean?”

Min silently consulted Dae, and the face he gave her must’ve been persuasive, because she shook her head.

Theo clicked his tongue. “You're doing the younger sister thing all wrong.”

“Because he’s too soft.” She hugged his arm and pressed her cheek to his, squeezing their faces together in a move that was impressively aggressive. “No one is more annoyed by that than me. It's not even fun to tease him."

Dae tried to squirm away. "That never stopped you."