IN THE CAR ON THE WAY TO THE RESTAURANT, I smooth down the skirt of my silk dress and say, “Daddy, please be nice to Reeve.”
He and my mom exchange a look. “I’m always nice.”
In the backseat Nadia and I exchange a look of our own. “Not true, Daddy,” she says in a singsong voice. “When you met James, you gave him the third degree about drinking and driving. And, hello, we don’t even have our licenses yet! Now James is afraid to come over to the house.”
My dad hides a smile.
I give Nadia a grateful look, and then she remembers she’s supposed to be giving me the silent treatment, and she turns her head back toward the window.
When we pull into the parking lot, Reeve’s sitting on a bench in front of the restaurant. He’s wearing a tie and khakis, and even a navy-colored sport coat that he must have borrowed from one of his brothers, because I’ve never seen him wear it before. He quickly stands up from the bench and shakes my dad’s hand. “Dr. Cho,” he says. “Good to see you again, sir.”
“Daddy, this is my friend Reeve,” I say.
“Hi, Reeve,” my dad says. The two of them are almost the same height. Reeve’s just an inch or so taller.
Reeve kisses my mom on the cheek. “Stunning as always, Mrs. Cho,” he says, which of course she eats up. My dad looks amused by this. To Nadia he says, “What’s up, li’l pup,” which she acknowledges with a wave.
When we get to the table, my dad pulls out the chair for my mom, and Reeve tries to pull out my chair, but he jerks too hard and it makes a terrible squeaking sound, and everyone turns around to look. I’m so tense, I feel like I’m going to give myself a stroke, but Reeve looks as relaxed and at ease as always.
My dad orders a bottle of sake, and when he offers some to Reeve, Reeve picks up his glass and accepts with both hands. I shoot him a panicked look, like What are you doing? and Reeve says, “Dr. Cho, I read that in Korean culture it’s rude not to accept alcohol from an elder.”
My parents exchange impressed looks. “Absolutely correct,” my dad says.
“And I’m supposed to drink it like this?” Reeve turns his head to the side and takes a small sip.
My dad hoots with laughter. Daddy never hoots. I can feel my stomach start to unclench.
“Wait, why is he drinking it like that?” Nadia asks.
“You aren’t supposed to drink in someone’s face, because it’s considered disrespectful,” my mom says. “You’re supposed to turn your head slightly. Reeve, where did you learn about this?”
“I read a few articles, and I watched a YouTube video on drinking with elders,” Reeve says.
“Oh, that’s darling,” my mom exclaims. “What else did you learn?”
Reeve sits up straighter. “Never pour your own drink. Never let someone else’s glass sit empty. Always accept a drink with two hands.”
My dad turns to me. “Do you know about all this, Lilli?”
“I know to accept with both hands,” I say.
“What about you, Nadi?” my mom asks.
“I don’t need to know about it because I’m not old enough to drink anyway,” Nadia says with a frown, spearing a cherry out of her glass. We both like to drink Shirley Temples when we go out to eat.
My dad laughs. “Well, it’s good to know anyway.”
Though he doesn’t say so, Daddy is also impressed by how much sashimi Reeve eats. My mom keeps putting more on his plate and he keeps eating it. It turns out he’s also fine with chopsticks. When my dad asks him about his postgrad year, I get nervous again, but Reeve is prepared. He tells him he’s been accepted to Graydon, that he’s already training again.
“Where is Graydon?” Daddy asks him.
“It’s about an hour outside Boston,” Reeve says. “In Connecticut.”
“Hm,” my dad says, but he doesn’t say anything else. He leans forward and says, “A colleague of mine’s son did a postgraduate year. He ended up playing a year of football at UVA before he injured his knee. Then he had to transfer because his grades weren’t good enough. What are your plans, Reeve?”
My mom gives Daddy a sharp look, which he pretends not to notice. I say, “Daddy, Reeve is really smart. He broke 2100 on the SATs!”
Reeve laughs an awkward laugh. “Lillia, you don’t have to talk me up like that.” To my dad he says, “I don’t have any illusions about playing in the NFL or anything. I just want to go to a great college, and football is my way in. I’d like to double major in business and communications, sir.”
That’s news to me. I can tell my dad is satisfied by the answer too.
Then Reeve tells a story about how he sold seashells to tourists when he was a kid, and everyone laughs, even Nadia.
On the way home my mom winks at me in the rearview mirror.
