Later that afternoon I look through my Instagram feed and read some online articles about BTS. I’m looking to see how the band has been affected by the loss of Jungkook. I am shocked to realize that they are not nearly as popular without him. Half of the fans are missing. BTS is still growing in worldwide fame, but they haven’t hit the top yet. They aren’t the most popular band in the world. I feel sorry for BTS, but so much happier for myself. My life has been so enriched by knowing Kookie. By being his mom.
And the Rose Bowl concert I attended never happened. The pictures that used to be in my photos are missing. They’ve been replaced by pictures of Kookie’s freshman musical. Nana was the backstage manager. They did a rendition of Disney’s High School Musical. Jungkook performed the lead role. He was a brilliant and beautiful Troy Bolton. Emmie played Gabriella. She was amazing too. She overcame her fear of the stage to sing opposite Kookie. And found a gift she never knew she had.
After looking through picture after picture of Kookie and Emmie on stage and admitting how cute they look together, I put my phone on the charger. Then I stick my head into the living room where Kookie is playing his guitar.
“Hey, Kook, want to help me make dinner?”
He lifts his raven head and looks at me with those piercing, dark eyes. “What’s for dinner?”
“Your favorite!”
“Ramen?” A big grin spreads across his face. “But no onions, right?”
I laugh. I like it with green onions, but Kookie prefers it without, so we go back and forth between who’s going to make it. Today it’s his turn. He’s made it quite plain that I can add onions only if I’m making Japanese ramen.
I head back to the kitchen. Just then there’s a knock on the front door.
“Kookie, can you answer the door?” I call out to him before turning towards the fridge to get the rest of the ingredients.
But something makes me follow Kookie. Call it a mother’s intuition. I’m standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room when Kookie answers the door. So I get to enjoy the look of awe that crosses his face.
A beautiful, little Korean girl stands in front of him. She has long, flowing, raven hair and the largest, widest, darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. She has the sweetest face too. What a pretty girl! And judging by the look on Kookie’s face, she must be Melody! He is obviously quite taken with her and stands speechless before her.
She smiles up at him and her entire face lights up. “Kookie! Hi!”
She calls him Kookie? Only Nana, Emmie, my boys, and I still call him Kookie. This girl must be someone special.
“Hey, Melody,” Nana, just now entering the living room, welcomes the pretty girl. “Ready to study?”
I walk towards the two girls. Nana looks up. “Mom, have you met Melody yet?”
No, but I am intrigued. I shake my head at her.
Nana turns towards Melody, “Melody, this is my mom. Mom, this is my friend, Melody. She’s brilliant at math, so we’re going to study together.”
“Hello, Melody. It’s wonderful to meet you.”
“Hi,” she responds sweetly yet absently, for she’s still gazing at Kookie.
I glance at Kookie too. He’s still staring at the little beauty. I decide to interfere. “Do you have a test coming up? Why don’t you invite Kookie to study with you too?”
Melody’s smile grows wider. “Sure! Do you need help, Kookie?”
He shrugs and scuffs the toe of his shoe against the floor. Clearly, he’s forgotten how to speak.
“I’ll help you, Kookie. Algebra is a snap! You’ll have it down pat in no time at all!” Then the smart girl looks at me and asks, “Should we come sit at the kitchen table?”
“Yes, that’s perfect. Kookie was about to cook some ramen for dinner. Would you like to stay and eat with us?” I happen to glance at Kookie as I ask this, only to discover that he has turned bright red.
“Sure! Just let me call my mom first and check with her.”
Ah, yes, I love this girl!
And so does my son. I look back at Kookie, and he’s staring at his feet, but every so often, his eyes shift quickly to Melody’s face before darting back to the floor.
“Come on, Kookie, let’s get our math stuff while Melody calls her mom,” Nana bosses him around before shouting towards her bedroom, “Emmie, Melody’s here! We’re going to study in the kitchen with Kookie.”
Uh-oh. This is about to get interesting. I can see the love triangle forming already. The kids follow me to the kitchen. Kookie pulls a chair out for Melody. Then belatedly for Emmie, who notices and gets the saddest, little pout on her face. She pushes her glasses back up her nose before burying it in her math book. But she has her eyes on Kookie. And Melody. All is not well here.
I am far more intrigued by the little drama unfolding at my kitchen table than I am by the dinner menu and my task of creating it. I pull the raw chicken from the fridge as I try to keep one eye on the kids at the table. Only Janna is actually studying the algebra book. Everyone else is too interested in another person at the table.
I watch Melody as I try to assess her feelings. She keeps sending Kookie surreptitious, little glances. Every time their eyes meet, a current seems to flow between them. They both instantly drop their gaze and pretend to be busy doing something else. Yep, the kitchen table is a really good place for every meeting they have!
Poor Emmie. She looks like she’s going to cry. My heart goes out to her. But I think, given my earlier conversation with Kookie, that there still might be hope for her. As long as things don’t progress too far with Melody.
“Emmie, are you staying for dinner?” I ask her.
She glances up at me, and I can see the tears in her eyes. Then her gaze shifts to Kookie, who just happens to pick that moment to gaze deeply into Melody’s eyes. Oh, man!
Emmie looks back at me as she wipes the corner of her eye. “Um, no, actually I need to head home now,” she responds shakily. She jumps up, grabs her book, and tells Nana goodbye before she heads for the front door. I sigh. Oh, teenage angst. It’s some of the worst!
Now that Emmie’s left, I see Melody scoot her chair closer to Kookie. She bends over his book and begins to explain algebra to him. That’s when I realize what a bad idea this is. I recognize that look in his eyes. Nothing is penetrating his brain right now except for his love of Melody.
I went through this exact same scenario. Except for me, it was Differential Equations in college. My future husband was trying to explain escape velocity to me in the tutoring lab of our community college. I was the tutor. He had just followed me into the room to help me with our homework since I had missed that morning’s lecture to attend another class with a conflicting schedule. I didn’t know until that day that I loved him. But when he glanced at me as he explained escape velocity, I happened to fall straight into his jade green eyes. I was a goner, and the rest, well, it’s history!
Kookie has that exact same look on his face now. I sigh. Good thing Emmie left! I turn towards the stove. Time to start dinner.
A few moments later, I hear Melody exclaim, “Kookie! Perfect! That’s right! Hey, you’re a quick study! I thought you said you weren’t good at algebra. But I think you actually have a natural knack for it.”
Ah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all! Not in any respect, apparently! Haha! Ap-parent-ly! LOL! Where is Jin when I need him?
—
A little while later, Alastair brings his reading assignment to me to check. I read through the list of compound words he’s created: lighthouse, mailman, snowflake, horseball.
“Horseball? Uh, Alastair, I’m pretty sure horseball isn’t a word.”
Kookie speaks up. “Are you sure, Mom? We play horseball all the time on the basketball court.” But he’s grinning at me, so I know he’s teasing.
Alastair picks up his defense, echoing Kookie’s words. “Yeah, we play horseball all the time.” His eyes are round, and he appears so earnest. I ruffle his dark brown hair.
“Nice try, guys. That game is called HORSE. Just horse. Back to the drawing board, kiddo.”
A confused look passes over Alastair’s face. “What drawing board? I don’t have a drawing board. Do I need one?”
“Here,” Kookie responds. “Come sit by me, kiddo. I’ll help you. You don’t need a drawing board. You can work on the table. Mom just meant you need to try again.” He grins sweetly at his little brother, and my heart turns over once more.
