Another two-part update: 98 and 99 are going up together!

A particular children’s story book that was read to me countless times growing up is referenced in here.  I have attached the link of the author reading the book at the point in the story where they are reading the book.  Please take the seven minutes that it takes to hear the story.  Because it is rather important in the second half of this particular one shot if you want to understand why I am writing in the way that I am…and it’s just a great children’s story aswell.  As some of my friends are now getting married and having their own kids, I always include this book as a gift to them at their baby showers because I remember it so vividly from my childhood – and my mother’s reaction to it.  I honestly don’t know if there is a Korean translation of this book…but let’s just pretend there is because I want to use this so bad.  In fact, once I decided to use this book, this story practically wrote itself.   

#98 – Writer’s Choice: Book

Taemin adjusted his bag as he stepped off of the elevator.  It was digging uncomfortably into his shoulder and it seemed that nothing he would do could make it lay comfortably like it usually did. 

He plodded down the hallway, wariness deep in his bones with the effort that he had been throwing into his work recently. 

He punched in the code into the glowing pad by the door and smiled faintly when a little tune played to let him know that he had entered the right code. 

He made his way in and had managed to take off his shoes when a small mop of black hair came bolting around the corner from the hallway that led to the bedroom. 

“Papa!”  Munhee came barreling into Taemin’s leg as he walked in the door, back from his first trip away since Munhee had joined their family six months ago.  “You’re home!”

Taemin dropped his bag and bundled his son into his arms, overwhelmed for the moment at the intensity of the emotion that welled up inside of him at the sight of his son so happy and ecstatic, solely because Taemin had walked in the door. 

“I missed you Papa!” Munhee giggled into his dad’s ear as Taemin’s arms tightened fractionally more. 

“I missed you too buddy,” Taemin said softly, kissing the boy lightly on his head as Jinae and Kibum walked into the entryway.

“Papa!”  Jinae jumped around Taemin’s legs, demanding to be picked up too without words.  And Taemin leaned down to grab her as well, holding one child in each arm as Kibum claimed a small kiss from his husband.

“Welcome home.”

*****

“Appa!  Read me a story!”  Munhee begged, his little eyes shining as he looked up at his father who was helping him get ready for bed. 

It was Taemin’s habit to read stories to his children before they went to sleep.  He wanted them to love words and stories like he did, the same way Kibum wanted them to have the passion for arts and colors that had led him to fashion in the first place. 

“I missed your stories while you were gone.” 

Taemin smiled ruefully, “Did Appa read to you?”

Munhee smiled, “Yeah, but he doesn’t do all the funny voices like you.

There was a mild huff from the doorway and the duo turned to see the aforementioned man standing with a small grin on his face.  “Sorry I’m not as good at stories as the almighty Lee Taemin.”

“But you’re the Almighty Key, which is even better.”  Taemin quipped, grinning as a flash of amusement crossed Kibum’s face.

Their children didn’t get the joke, as the men hadn’t yet figured out how to explain to them that their dads had been particularly famous once upon a time.  They figured that they would get around to it when the kids got older.

Turning attention back to him, Munhee tugged on his father’s shirt arm.  “Papa!”  His voice was high and carried right through Taemin, “Book please?!” 

“Yeah Papa!”  Jinae called from behind Kibum in the doorway, who seemed surprised that she had been standing there at all.  “Tell us a story!”  And she darted around her papa and into Munhee’s room where she went to the bookcase and pulled out a light blue book with the image of a little boy terrorizing a bathroom on the cover.  Love you Forever by Robert Munsch. 

Kibum bit his lip and Taemin understood without saying anything as his husband excused himself from the bedroom as Taemin gathered the children around him on Munhee’s bed to read them the story of the love between a son and his mother that spanned the years.

“I’ll love you forever

I’ll like you always

As long as I’m living

My baby you’ll be.”

Munhee had already drifted off to sleep as Taemin sang throughout the story, and Taemin quietly closed the book and turned to look at Jinae who was dozing but still slightly awake next to him.

He quickly extracted himself from their tangling limbs and decided to just let Jinae sleep there tonight rather than move her to her own bed.  Covering the children up and laying gentle kisses to their foreheads, smiling at the mumbled, “Love you Papa…” that Jinae let out before curling one arm around her brother and settling in for sleep. 

Taemin turned out the lights and quietly shut the door, and moved through the apartment, flipping the switch to kill the lights throughout, eventually arriving at his bedroom door where the only light in the place glowed warmly from a slit under the door. 

He gently pushed the door open and what he saw broke his heart.  Kibum sat on the edge of their bed, facing away from the door, left arm clutched around his middle and right hand over his mouth, trying to smoother the sobs that made his shoulders quake ferociously. 

“Bummie?” Taemin inquired carefully as he sat next to his husband, wrapping an arm around the distraught man and allowing Kibum to lean against him, resting his head in the writer’s neck. 

Kibum just whimpered and removed his hand from his face before curling his arms around Taemin’s sturdy frame and for a moment Taemin just lent his silent support, carding his fingers through Kibum’s hair and just being there for that moment when Kibum needed to let it out.

The book had started it, Taemin knew.

It was a book that Kibum’s grandmother and mother had read to him frequently as a child.  Each making up their own melody to accompany the song, just as Taemin had done for his children, and like he suspected that they would do for their own children should they elect to read them this loving story one day in the future. 

In fact, the book had been a gift from Kibum’s mother when Jinae had been born, back when the designer was still talking with her and had been trying to maintain a relationship with the woman who did not approve of his chosen partner. 

The book brought back all sorts of memories for Kibum.  Ones that should have been happy – memories of his childhood, curled up in his mother’s arms as her lilting voice sang sweetly to him, were suddenly cast into shadow with the lingering resentment and no small level of anger that Kibum felt towards his mother now.

It was hard to reconcile the two images of the woman in Kibum’s mind: the kind, caring mother who was wrapped around Kibum’s finger and the spiteful woman of today who Kibum hadn’t spoken to in longer than he cared to recall. 

Taemin rocked his husband, back and forth, and back and forth. 

Kibum cried out his fear that he would never see his mother again, his anger at her reaction to the love of his life, his grief that she had never met her grandson…everything left unspoken began to pour from him now, and there was Taemin, his rock, never letting go.

Once Kibum had quieted down, exhausted emotionally, mentally and physically, and his eyes started to droop with this limbs growing heavy, Taemin began to sing.

“I’ll love you forever

I’ll like you for always

As long as I’m living

My Bummie you’ll be.” 

And it was with a smile that Kibum finally drifted off. 

My sisters and I loved this book as children.  And we always wanted our mom to read it to us.  I didn’t know until I was much older how much she hated that book.  You see, her mother had died when I was only a year and a half old.  She’s often told me that I was what got her through the death of her mother because she had this little baby to take care of.  But I loved this book.  I wanted her to read it to me all the time.  Seriously, I always wanted her to read and sing that song to me and she did.  But she told me years later, as I unearthed that book while we were clearing out the crawlspace one Spring and she told me that she would read the book and put us down for naps or whatever and then would go to her room and cry because she missed her mother so much.  It was with this experience in mind that I wrote this story today.