Heart & Seoul (2 page)

Drake groaned next to me, tossing his head
back to the seat. “Crap. We almost missed her if Emerson is outside
waiting for her.”

I turned, my hair bouncing on my shoulders.
“Almost missed who?”

Drake waved at the old man through the car
window with a small smile. Like he wasn’t upset about whoever the
driver was waiting for.

“
My grandmother,” he said,
creeping the words through his tight smile.

The man waved back in response, unaware of
Drake’s distaste.

After giving the man my own smile, I
subtlety grabbed Drake’s arm. “Your grandmother is here?”

“
Mmmhmm. My dad’s mother.”
He stopped waving when Emerson went around to the passenger side of
the car… and then stopped smiling. “My mom called to see if we were
still coming before you asked if I was ready to go. She said she
was finishing up with her.”

Crap. So he
was
stalling. I
swallowed hard, fearing the reason why. “What’s wrong with her?
Will she not approve of us?”

He turned my way. Realization dawned on his
face, and I knew he understood what I meant. His expression
surprisingly settled into a smile. He grabbed my hand. “Oh, no,
Lace. My grandmother will love you. I know it. My grandfather might
have been a little harder to bring around, but he died from
dementia several years ago. He was a lot like my dad. My
grandmother couldn’t be more opposite, though. I suppose that’s why
she was his first wife of three.”

My eyes widened. “Three?”

“
Yep.” He got out of the
car and came to my side to help me out. Once I was on his arm with
my cookies in hand, he continued. “My grandmother is something
else. Fiery, I guess you could say. I could only guess they were
together in the first place because they were completely opposite.
Complemented each other. She definitely gave my grandfather a run
for his money.”

It made me smile to hear that, but confused
me at the same time. I didn’t understand why Drake wanted to avoid
her.

He didn’t explain and led me into the house
where the Drake’s housekeeper, Manuela, greeted us. She took my
cookies from me and told me she’d get them prepared on a platter
for afternoon tea.

After she left, I decided to push Drake
about his grandmother. “If your grandmother wouldn’t have a problem
with our engagement why were you trying to avoid her today?”

He took me through the house. “Well, I was
the first grandchild. One of only two for her, and I guess you can
say she can be a bit—”

“
Tru Tru?” came a raspy,
but excited voice. “Is that my little wrinkle bottom, I
hear?”

Drake cringed. “Clingy,” he finished.

A tiny woman with long white hair at the
root that flowed into gray at the bottom charged in from the
direction of the Drake family’s parlor. She had an alarming speed
backing her feet considering her age. She looked to be pushing at
least eighty. She met us in the living room. Her arms out in front
of her, she passed right by me with a goal-oriented gaze. With her
focus set on Drake, I could see why. He was in her arms within a
minute; his face scrunched up as she smacked kisses all over his
cheeks. He was so much taller than her that he had to bend at the
waist to get to her level.

“
Tru Tru, how I’ve missed
you,” she crooned, pinching his cheek.

He gave a wide smile showing no teeth. “I’ve
missed you too, Memaw.”

I placed my fingers
casually to my lips to keep from smiling.
He calls her memaw. That’s so freakin’ cute.

She held his large hand in her tiny ones.
“It’s been so long since you came to see me. Why haven’t you since
your parents moved you and your sister to the city? And why are you
so skinny?” She pulled back, seemingly flabbergasted at the sight
of him. “Your mother doesn’t still have you on that vegan diet does
she?” She popped her tongue out in disgust.

“
Truman doesn’t live at
home anymore, Lorraine.” Drake’s mom came into the room, sitting
gingerly on the arm of the sofa in her pink skirt and white ruffled
top. “He takes care of his own diet now,” she said, but she was
smiling.

Drake nodded. “She’s right, Memaw. And I’m
sorry I haven’t been by. I’ve been busy.”

His eyes veered my way. His gaze softened in
an adoration that had my heart melting. His grandmother noticed and
placed her hand on her chest.

Drake slid his hand into mine. Pulling me
forward, he presented me to her. “Memaw, this is my fiancée, Lacey.
Lacey, my grandmother, Lorraine.”

Instinctually, I put out my hand, but the
elderly woman wouldn’t have it. She threw her arms around me, and I
giggled. “Nice to meet you, Grandmother Lorraine.”

“Oh, sweetheart, call me Memaw.” She pulled
back. Holding my hands, she took me in. “Tru Tru, she’s simply
gorgeous.”

It was official. I loved this woman.

She tugged me to her, whispering. “You know,
it was Tru Tru who came up with his nickname. Truman was a mouthful
for him. He refused to be called anything else until he was five,
but by then it stuck with me.”

I fought myself from snickering. Even as a
kid Drake was particular about his name.

His eyes lifted to the heavens. “Memaw…”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Tru Tru. It doesn’t
leave this house. I know you hate it.” She winked at him.

His face flooded with relief, and I had to
keep myself from going over and kissing him. I loved bashful Tru
Tru.

Drake’s grandmother cuddled up on his side,
and he hugged her back.

“What brings you to the house, Memaw?” he
asked her.

She beamed up at him. “I heard you were
going on a pretty important journey soon.”

“She brought you a gift, Truman.” Drake’s
mom came over and handed a sleeved VHS tape to his grandmother. The
sleeve looked worn, old. The elderly woman then gave the tape to
her grandson.

“I think it’s time you see
this,” she said.

♥ ♥ ♥

Our small party settled into the living
room. Drake got the VHS cued up on his family’s DVD/ VHS player,
then took his seat between his grandmother and me. We all sat in
front of the family room’s wide flat screen television.

Drake pressed play and the screen filled
with the scene of a busy airport terminal. The date on the corner
of the screen showed that this was recorded footage by a personal
camera and also explained why the image was so grainy. This video
was almost twenty years old.

The camera movements flashed around, picking
up every sound of the people surrounding it. The image was a bit
shaky and unfocused, making it hard to see much.

“You must forgive your late grandfather.”
Drake’s grandmother placed a hand on his arm. “The old codger had
that camera barely a day and didn’t know what he was doing with it.
The feed will clear up soon.”

He looked at her. “Grandpa took this?” He
faced the television. “What is this?”

“Just watch, Truman,” Drake’s mom spoke from
the chair, her lips lifting.

Just as Drake’s grandmother predicted, the
image cleared. There were clusters of people around. Some held
signs that said things like, “Welcome home” or “Happy Birthday,”
while others had balloons in their hands. There was lots of excited
banter and many people shedding tears. I didn’t understand why and,
by the look of Drake’s expression, he didn’t either. He watched
with extreme focus, leaning forward with his arms rested on his
knees.

The camera flashed to a familiar face in the
crowd and his eyes widened. His parents were there except they were
younger. His father’s hair wasn’t salt and pepper, but brown with a
hint of gray. His face had less age lines, less stress. There was
also one other thing I noticed as well.

He was smiling.

The camera focused on the woman beside him
who was held tight to him under his arm. Drake’s mother was
absolutely stunning. She was beautiful now, but then she was
exquisite. A flawless beauty. She had tears glassing her eyes, her
fingertips placed to her lips.

“He’s almost here. He’s almost here,
Phillip.” Though Mrs. Drake whispered, the vintage camera picked
her up, her emotion-filled voice and all.

Mr. Drake rubbed her shoulder. “I know,
Madeline. Not long now, sweetheart.”

Mr. Drake’s words were so soothing to his
wife, caring. It was almost as if he were a different man back
then. Perhaps he was. This footage was taken years ago. Anything
could have happened since then. His career, his life in politics,
or simply life in general. Either way, this man was different. Less
cold. Happy.

Drake noticed as well, watching the man who
adopted him in extreme fascination. I could only imagine his head
must be spinning.

The volume of the crowd blasted several
octaves, pulling us both back to the footage.

“Make sure you get this, George.” A much
younger Memaw Lorraine next to the cameraman pointed ahead, and the
camera followed.

A small plane on a runway opened its door
and out of it came several people. The camera zoomed in, and the
people became clearer. They were tiny women, all of Asian descent,
and they carried small bundles in their arms.

“Oh, Phillip,” Mrs. Drake gasped.

She and her husband waved. Mr. Drake lifted
a small sign in his free hand, but with the camera angle, I
couldn’t see what it read. Whatever it said had gotten the
attention of a woman in blue, the bundle of yellow blanket she held
nearly overwhelming her she was so tiny.

Smiling brightly, she walked right up to the
Drake’s. I held my breath as she unwrapped the small bundle in her
arms.

Inside was a tiny child
with a head full of messy black hair. The baby’s tan cheeks were
painted a rosy red, and also adorably chubby. The little one’s eyes
were shut tight, sleeping soundly despite the elevated noise of the
crowd. Other than sleep, the baby’s only focus seemed to be the
small thumb in his
mouth, sucking on it
innocently during his dreams.

I placed my hands to my mouth, my eyes
glassing, as I watched the child handed to Mrs. Drake.

Her tears weren’t welling now. They’d
completely escaped her eyes as she brushed her fingers along the
baby’s chubby cheek.

She sniffed, cooing to the child. “My sweet
boy,” she said, kissing his flushed cheek. “My sweet Truman.”

The footage focused in on the care and love
between the new parents and their small child. I couldn’t focus on
it long. I was watching the room. Mrs. Drake, now older, but still
lovely, had the same tears in her eyes as she did then. She was
drawn to the image just as Memaw Lorraine. Her head was tilted,
watching the footage behind glistening eyes, as if seeing it for
the first time. She had her hand on Drake, rubbing and squeezing
the arm of her grandson that was no longer a boy, but a strong
man.

A wonderful man.

Drake sat there beside me, awed by something
he was clearly seeing for the first time. Though he wasn’t
displaying the same emotion as his mother or his grandmother, the
way he studied the image in front of him showed he was feeling the
same thing. His dark eyes flickered, moving with the action on the
screen. His lips parted, his nostrils flaring once with a light
flush to his cheeks. He couldn’t possibly remember that day, but it
was obvious he was feeling it, reconnecting with it and all that it
was. It was a day full of emotion, a day filled with so much love
and beauty. He was loved. Loved so very much, and I had a feeling
it was even more than he knew.

Chapter Three

“These turned out so well, baby,” I said to
Drake, admiring the black calligraphy on one of our freshly printed
wedding invitations.

His mother let us keep one for our records
yesterday during tea. The rest were headed off to the planner for
mailing, and since we got to keep one, I couldn’t keep my eyes off
it. Even now, despite the fact we were at our departure gate in the
airport waiting to fly off to Seoul. The art deco elements in them
looked wonderful. Drake and I agreed on a vintage, old Hollywood
style wedding. He was going to wear a white jacket and black slacks
and everything. This was his idea, not mine, but I was glad he had
it. He’d look adorable.

Drake wasn’t lying when he said he enjoyed
talking anything having to do with the wedding, but today he only
seemed to be half listening to me. His look was very reminiscent to
the one he held yesterday as well. The one he sported long after
the footage of his arrival to America had ended.

He seemed lost, staring off into space. He
had his foot propped on his overturned carry-on, his elbow rested
on his knee, and his fingers to his chin. His thoughts were clearly
moving. No doubt about everything that awaited him ahead. Was he
anxious about the trip? Was he, dare I say, scared? Whatever he
was, I’d be there for him. That was my job, and I was so happy to
do it.