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“Dangshin, I told the staff they could have the night off. Elijah was hungry for mandu and I was in the mood to make some. Can’t I cook for my own son?”
I’ve never heard my mother talk back to my father.
“Call the staff in to clean up this mess and to make us some dinner before I fire them all,” my dad barks. His word final. He turns and leaves as my mom sighs.
“Your appa likes my mandu, actually,” she says to me softly. She bends down to pick up the pieces of the shattered bowl. I see red mixed in with the yellow eggs and the white of the broken ceramic before she even notices.
“Umma,” I say, panicked, “your finger is bleeding.”
It’s like I pulled her from a distant memory. She looks at her bleeding finger and wraps it in her apron. She picks me up and carries me over to the other side of the kitchen. “Elijah, go up to your room. It’s not safe in here,” she says.
I want to apologize for breaking the bowl. I want to get a Band-Aid for my mom’s finger. But instead, I drop my head and drag my feet as I walk away.
“Elijah?” I hear my mom call out to me gently.
“Yes, Umma,” I say, looking back over my shoulder.
“Thank you so much for helping me. I wish we could have finished. Next time, we’ll wait for Appa to be on a business trip and we’ll make mandu together without him, okay?” She smiles, but I see the sadness in her eyes.
“Okay,” I say. I walk away to my room, knowing there won’t be a next time.
“Dude, did I just hear my savior offer to help? Because I’m drowning,” Jason says, pulling me from my stroll down memory lane.
I scan the room and all eyes are on me. Maybe everyone’s as surprised at my offer as I am. Or maybe no one believes there’s anything I’m capable of doing to help.
And then they all begin talking at once.
“Can you look up the phone number for the printing company?”
“Can you contact the IT department and put in a help ticket for setting up the off-site network?”
“Can you ask Ann in the Travel department who she wants to be the point of contact for the hackers?”
I grab my phone and start typing in all the requests into my notes app. I hadn’t realized there was so much to do and people were dying for an extra set of hands.
None of this sounds too awful. So once I finish jotting down the list, I get to work.
It takes me all morning to get through just the first task, but the time goes by way quicker than I expected. I lift my arms up above my head and stretch out the knots between my shoulders.
“You’re acting like you’ve never worked a day in your life,” Jason says to me, patting my back. I let out what sounds like a painful huff rather than a laugh. I don’t say anything, though, knowing this is one area I can’t fake my way through. If anyone asks me what kinds of after-school jobs I’ve had, I wouldn’t even know what to say.
“Elijah, you’re with me this afternoon, if that’s okay.” Jessica stands and closes her laptop, gathering her things. Her eyebrow raises in question.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say, trying to tamp down the jolt of excitement I feel. I don’t know what we’re doing, but the thought of spending the entire afternoon with Jessica has my pulse racing. I was planning on exploring the High Line today. Maybe she’d want to go with me, and we could discover the city together. I can’t get the look of wonder that was on her face when I took her to Rockefeller Center out of my head. I keep thinking of things I can show Jessica around town that might spark that same magic for her.
Next thing I know, I’ll be suggesting matching couple outfits and key chains. Get your shit together, Elijah.
“The rest of you, please make sure you take a break for lunch and don’t stay too late. We’ll be gone the rest of the day,” she says. “Jason, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”
Jason lifts his chin and gives a quick nod, his face spreading into a cocky smile. I swear I see Jessica’s cheeks pinken. Dudes like Jason are such the obvious choice. Tall, funny, charming, smart. Whatever.
I stuff my phone into my back pocket and jam my fists into the front ones, waiting for Jessica to lead the way. I’m most definitely not pouting. When we get to the elevators I finally ask, “So, where we going?”
“I told you. You and I are Team Logistics. So today, we’ve gotta secure the New York Public Library as our venue. I can’t get it out of my head, all the possibilities. I even looked at pictures online and planned out how we could use the space for the hackathon. Can you imagine? Hosting some of the best young engineering minds to come up with new programming in one of the oldest, most majestic venues in the city?”
Well, when Jessica puts it that way, I’m intrigued. The contradiction. I imagine myself sitting at a workstation set up in the high-ceilinged hall, the warm wooden floors creaking on their own, as I type code for a new real-time strategy game. Very cool. A part of me wishes I could take part in the hackathon rather than help organize it.
“They, um, didn’t have any appointments available today so—” she hesitates, dropping her voice and letting out a small breath “—we’ll just have to go there and convince them to see us.”
