The Fold (11 page)

“John Ford Kang,” Gina said.

As though hypnotized, Joyce shuffled over to the stove. A blast of heat rose up and hit her face. Gina lifted up a large clump of hair stuck to Joyce’s cheek, making sure the flames weren’t too close.

Sam untied the apron from around his waist and dropped it on the table. “I guess, Joyce, you don’t need my help anymore.” He knocked on the bathroom door. “Let’s go home, Andy.”

“Finally,” Andy said and emerged from the bathroom.

“Thanks for everything, Sam,” Joyce called out as Sam and Andy left the kitchen through the back alley door.

“Is it drying?” Joyce asked Gina.

“It’s working,” Gina said. “Put the peas over your eyes.”

Joyce reached up, and surprisingly, her hair was dryer than before. She glanced over at Juan, who was standing at the dishwasher watching them, his eyebrows knotted in concern. When he caught Joyce’s
eyes, he licked his finger and touched the air, hissing his worries. Joyce smiled and nodded her head.
Muy caliente.
Joyce tipped her head back a bit and placed the bag of frozen peas over her eyes.

Just as Gina was finishing up, Joyce could hear someone entering the kitchen from the back door.

“What are you two doing?” Helen asked.

“None of your business,” Joyce said, her eyes still covered. “Why was your cell phone turned off?”

Helen groaned. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I meant to turn it back on after the meeting.”

“Well, while you were doing other things, we were in crisis mode,” Joyce said, removing the peas and stepping toward Helen. Gina grabbed the ends of Joyce’s hair and yanked her back.

“Just another second,” Gina said, wafting the hot air over to Joyce.

“What happened?” Helen asked, setting her bags down in the storage room.

“Andy got sick from the shark liver pills, and there was no one to cover the front, and there was a massive dinner party that came in early.”

Helen tied an apron around her waist. “But Apa said it was going to be quiet until later in the evening. There wasn’t a dinner party on the books.”

“Yeah, well, nothing went as planned today, and you weren’t around.”

Helen pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Look, Joyce, I’m sorry you couldn’t get a hold of me. I’m here now. I’ll take care of the dinner party while you and Gina do whatever to your hair. And if it was as crazy as you said it was, I don’t know how doing your hair over the stove is any way to deal with it.”

Joyce narrowed her eyes. “Just do me a favor and shut up.”

Helen walked out of the kitchen.

“Come on, Gina. My hair doesn’t have to be completely dry.”

“Okay, okay,” Gina said and released Joyce.

“How do I look?” Joyce asked and stepped away from the stove.

Gina studied Joyce’s eyes for a second and then raised her thumb. “Perfectly presentable.”

“Presentable? What does that mean?” Joyce worried.

Gina gave her a slight push. “Stop overanalyzing. Just go out there before he leaves.”

Joyce took a deep breath and walked over to the doorway.

Helen and John were exchanging hugs at the front door. They were too far away for Joyce to eavesdrop,
but Joyce could see John’s father studying Helen’s face as John pointed to Helen and waved his hands emphatically in the air. Helen smiled faintly, looking embarrassed. As John’s father pushed open the glass door to leave, Helen bowed, her hands clasped in front. John waved, following his father out of the restaurant. The rest of the group also bowed and quickly filed out.

Joyce turned around in a daze. Gina looked up from helping her mother and immediately ran over.

“What happened? I thought you were going out there,” Gina said, putting one arm around Joyce’s shoulders.

“I hate her,” Joyce stated and fell into Gina’s arms.

joyce
and Gina sat on a large sack of rice in the storage room. The two had retreated from the kitchen, trying to make sense of how Helen and John knew each other.

“Are you sure they hugged?” Gina asked again.

Joyce stared miserably at the cement floor. “Yes.”

Gina shook her head. “But wouldn’t you have known if Helen was friends with John?”

Joyce sniffled. “Let’s please stop talking about it. I don’t care how they know each other. They obviously do, and once again, I am second in line. Why would John ever want to go out with me if he knows Helen?” Joyce stared up at the fluorescent lights. “I hate being the ugly sister.”

Gina came rushing to her defense. “Whoa, wait. Stop harshing on yourself. Who said you’re the ugly sister? Come on, Joyce.”

Joyce frowned. “Let’s face it. It’s true. Helen’s always been prettier and better at everything.”

Gina stood up, silent.

“See, even you aren’t going to argue with me about that,” Joyce wailed.

Gina whirled around. “No, that’s not true, Joyce. I mean, I don’t believe Helen’s better than you at everything,” Gina said, her eyes scanning the room. “I’m just trying to find something.”

Gina leaped over to the shelves and picked up a large white dish towel. She folded it into a triangle and placed it over her hair, knotting the two ends under her chin.

Joyce stared at Gina, who now resembled a sweet country girl working in the fields.

Gina pointed into the air. “Look, it’s Godzilla!”

Joyce refused to smile, deepening her frown. Gina widened her eyes and made her mouth into a large O. “Oh, no, he is crushing our house!”

Joyce began to crack, the corners of her lips quivering.

Gina glanced at her and then began to hop around
the tiny room, patting her full cheeks. “Please, please, save me.”

Joyce broke into a grin that deepened until she began to laugh.

“Godzilla, do not eat me! Ahhhhh!” Gina crumbled to the ground in a grand faint.

“You are such a dork,” Joyce said.

Gina opened her eyes. “Yes, but I am your dork.” Gina sat up. “Helen can’t be better than you at everything. Who has the better best friend, huh?” Gina pointed at herself.

Joyce reached out her hand. “I definitely have the better best friend,” Joyce said, helping Gina off the ground and then scooting over so that Gina could sit on the sack of rice with her. “You’re my best dork.”

Gina bumped her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I just don’t understand why they hugged,” Joyce said, starting to feel miserable again.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure John just knows Helen from some stupid club.”

“But now that he knows where she works, he’ll want to see her all the time,” Joyce said, kicking the sack with her heel.

“You don’t know that, Joyce. Just talk to Helen and ask her about John.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Yes you do,” Gina said.

“Yeah, well, whatever Helen wants, Helen gets,” Joyce said.

“Stop being so negative.”

“I’m just saying what’s true.”

“Joyce, you don’t know that Helen even likes John. Why would she want to go out with someone in high school? Just because you think he’s a total babe does not mean everyone else is panting over him. Look at me,” Gina said, pointing at herself. “You see me being a complete fool for that weird light brown hair and lurch walk?”

“His hair is auburn, and he has to walk that way ’cause of all his muscles. Surfing takes at lot of strength, you know.”

Gina continued to stare her down.

Joyce sighed. Gina did have a point. John was younger than Helen, and even if he liked her, it didn’t mean that Helen liked him. Perhaps not everyone was as impressed as Joyce was with John Ford Kang.

“Okay, you’re right.” Joyce stood up. “Come on, we should go help out in front.”

“It’ll be fun working together,” Gina said, linking arms. “I got your back.”

“Thanks.” Joyce smiled.

Before Joyce had a chance to speak with Helen about John, the dinner crowd began to stream in. Gina and Joyce worked quickly, showing customers to their tables and taking their orders before bringing out the small plates of banchan. At the height of the dinner rush, when almost all the tables were taken, Gomo walked into the restaurant with a young man in a blue suit. Joyce almost tripped with her large tray loaded with rice, bulgoki and jap-che when she saw the two of them standing near the door. Apa quickly stashed his book under the counter before getting up to hobble over to the front.

Apa bowed and greeted Gomo and her guest.

“Joyce.” Gomo waved.

“One minute, Gomo,” Joyce called back as she set the tray down at a table with a family of five and unloaded the food. After making sure the family was all set, Joyce quickly hurried over to Apa, Gomo and her guest.

Joyce bowed and greeted Gomo.

“Joyce, this is Mr. Moon,” Gomo said, her face twitching into a smile as she introduced him. “Mr. Moon, this is my youngest niece, Joyce.”

“On-young-ha-say-yo,” Mr. Moon said and bowed.
When he straightened back up, Joyce noticed that he had a rather square head but pleasant enough features. Joyce wondered why Gomo was dining with him. She usually brought her friends, women her age from church, to the restaurant, not some young guy who looked like he worked at a bank or something.

Joyce bowed back and mumbled her greeting.

Gomo touched Joyce’s elbow and whispered, “Where is your sister?”

“In the back with Mrs. Lee,” Joyce whispered back. She could see a couple who had been waiting to be seated start to frown in annoyance. “Let me take care of these people first, Gomo, and then I will get Helen for you.”

Gomo glanced over her shoulder at the other couple. “Mr. Moon and I are here to eat. We can sit over there,” Gomo said and pointed at the last empty table.

Before Joyce and Apa could protest, Gomo led Mr. Moon over to the table. Joyce sighed and shook her head. Apa turned to apologize to the angry twosome, but they were already heading for the door. Joyce headed to the kitchen while Apa limped over to talk to Gomo and take their orders.

Helen and Mrs. Lee were working quickly and efficiently together in the kitchen. There was no mad
scrambling or shouting instructions from across the room like there had been when Joyce was working in the back.

“I almost have your order ready,” Helen said as she quickly plated some marinated tofu and poured some sauce on top. Helen handed the dish to Joyce.

“Gomo’s out there with some Mr. Moon guy,” Joyce said, taking the plate.

“Who?” Helen looked confused.

Joyce shrugged. “Mr. Moon. Gomo wants to see you.”

Helen took a deep breath. “Can you tell her I’ll be out in another half hour or so?”

“Do you want me to handle the back while you go see her right now?” Joyce asked.

“NO!” Helen and Mrs. Lee both said at the same time.

“Fine.” Joyce scowled and left with the plate of tofu.

On her way to deliver the order, Joyce stopped by Mr. Moon and Gomo’s table to report that Helen would be with them shortly, after the dinner rush had let up a bit. Joyce saw a tiny flicker of anger wrinkle Gomo’s nose, which was the only part of Gomo’s face that could really move, but Mr. Moon seemed perfectly content
to wait. Joyce caught him squinting and studying her face as she spoke to Gomo.

“We need tea and some water,” Gomo said right before Joyce turned to leave.

Joyce nodded and rushed to drop off the marinated tofu with an older gentleman dining alone and then she made her way to the wet bar behind the register counter to fill Gomo’s drink order. Gina met up with her and picked up another pitcher of water.

“Who is he?” Gina whispered.

“I have no idea,” Joyce whispered back, filling two water glasses with ice. “He seems kind of formal, like a banker or something. Maybe he’s handling Gomo’s big lottery money.”

Gina quickly glanced over her shoulder. “Definitely not a banker. More like sales.”

Joyce grabbed two teacups and poured some warm barley tea. “How do you know?”

“Look at those shoes,” Gina said. “Brown shoes with a blue suit. Please. And the heels are really worn down. Definitely in sales and not at some classy place, either.” Gina took off to deliver the water to one of her tables.

Joyce shook her head. Gina should work for the CIA or something. Joyce delivered the tea and water
to Gomo and Mr. Moon, who was nodding his head at something Gomo was saying.

“Joyce. Please tell your sister she can at least come out of the kitchen to greet us.”

“Yes, Gomo,” Joyce said and headed back to the kitchen.

Apa was sitting on his stool at the register, finalizing the tab for one of her tables and glancing over at Gomo and Mr. Moon with a worried expression on his face.

“Helen,” Joyce called out from the entrance to the kitchen. “Gomo wants you to come out and at least say hello.”

Helen pulled her chopsticks out of a jar of kimchee. Her face began to color as red as the spicy chili seasoning on the cabbage. She set down her chopsticks and followed Joyce out into the dining room. Apa held up a check, and Joyce picked it up to deliver to the family that was ready to leave. Helen headed over to Gomo and Mr. Moon’s table.

“Gam-sah-ham-nee-da,” Joyce said to the family, presenting the check and picking up their empty plates. As she headed back into the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishes with Juan, she watched as Helen approached the table and Mr. Moon quickly scrambled out of the booth
to stand up. Helen began to bow just as Mr. Moon thrust out a small gift-wrapped box, smacking Helen in the forehead.

“Ai! Me-on-heh-yo,” Mr. Moon cried and grabbed his glass of ice water.

Helen grimaced in pain and backed away just as Mr. Moon tried to press the cold glass to her forehead. A cascade of water spilled down the front of Helen’s apron.

Gomo sat stiffly watching the exchange and then barked, “Sit down, Mr. Moon.”

“Please accept my deepest apology,” he said gloomily before sitting down.

Gomo leaned forward and grabbed the gift out of his hand.

“For you,” Gomo said and handed it to Helen.

Gina raised one eyebrow at Joyce as they passed each other, their laughter barely contained.

As Joyce headed out of the kitchen, Helen was hurrying back inside.

“He’s smooth,” Joyce said at the doorway.