DING!

                The timer on the oven went off. And just in time, too, because I had just finished lighting the last of the three vanilla-scented candles that sat on top of the elegant silver candleholders. I sashayed into the kitchen and swiftly picked up the potholder. The second I opened the oven door, the rich scent of rosemary lemon chicken filled the air. The chicken had turned a pleasant golden brown color and the rosemary leaves sprinkled over the top turned dark green. I reached into the oven and pulled out the searing hot pan, resting it quickly on the countertop. I transferred the chicken to one of Mom’s nicest serving dishes, the white porcelain one with scalloped edges. Humming an upbeat tune by six very talented boys, I garnished the chicken with more rosemary and a few neatly sliced lemon wedges. I set the dish in the center of the table right between the white rice and the green beans, both in the matching white porcelain dishes with scalloped edges.

                I am by no means a chef; I hardly ever cook. I can, however, follow instructions. I’ve helped my mom make this rosemary chicken dozens of times. It’s my dad’s favorite American dinner, and once in a while he’ll ask my mother to make it. Mine looked similar to Mom’s, so I figured I had done something right. I burned the first batch of rice I dumped into the rice cooker, and I had put too much garlic on the beans. I hoped Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind too much; today had been a long day for me, after all.

                I had been playing housewife all day. The minute I woke up, I made my bed. I came downstairs shortly afterwards and made my father an omelet with a tall glass or orange juice on the side. Dad was a bit taken aback when he came downstairs at seven in the morning and found his omelet, juice and a note telling him to have a wonderful day at work. As he sat down to eat his breakfast made by his darling daughter, she had come waltzing into the dining room to plant a sweet good-morning kiss on his cheek.

                “Good morning Daddy,” I had said before I kissed his cheek.

                “Good morning Kirin,” Dad said, swallowing hard. “Did you fix all of us?”

                “Sure did,” I had said proudly. “Would you like more orange juice? Let me get some for you.” I danced my way into the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice. As I filled up my father’s glass, he spoke up again.

                “Is there a particular reason you made me breakfast this morning?” he had asked.

                I had shrugged innocently. “Just thought I’d do something nice for the most wonderful father in the world,” I answered with a smile.

                It only got worse from there. When Mom came downstairs an hour later, I was folding a load of laundry in the living room. She was puzzled, for I’m usually not awake until ten on weekends. I had simply handed her a stack of fluffy towels and ushered her upstairs to go take a long, hot shower while I finished up the rest of the laundry. When she came back downstairs, she too was greeted by an omelet courtesy of her darling daughter as well. She too asked what the occasion was; I had simply shrugged and told her the Best Mother in the World deserved to be treated every now and then.

                Over the course of the day, I had wiped down all the glass on the windows, cleaned all four bathrooms and vacuumed the carpet in all the bedrooms upstairs. Mom was completely astounded.

                “Alright, what’s with you today?” she had asked as I wheeled the vacuum through the hallway. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

                I shrugged. “You work so hard all day cooking and cleaning, I figured I’d give you a break today.” I opened the closet, which had been entirely cleaned out and organized, and neatly put the vacuum back.

                Mom had a skeptical look on her face. She didn’t believe me. “Kirin, what’s this really about?”

                “Exactly what I said before, Mom.” I planted a kiss on her cheek. “A new issue of your Home and Garden magazine came in the mail today. I made some lemonade; go pour yourself a glass, sit outside and read your magazine.”

                Mom shook her head slowly. She looked skeptical, but she threw her hands up surrender-style. “Yes m’am,” she giggled. She started walking down the hallway and disappeared down the stairs.

                Now that the day was almost over, I was feeling rather exhausted. I had danced around the house cleaning all day, the happiest, most peaceful smile pasted on my face. I felt like one of those Super Moms, who’s daily outfit consisted of heels and an apron, waltzing around their perfectly clean home with red lips and perfectly curled hair. My mom didn’t exactly walk around like that, and I didn’t either; my short hair was practically falling out of the loose ponytail and my white t-shirt was stained with God knows what from preparing dinner. After straightening out the spice rack in the kitchen, I had started to make Dad’s favorite dinner. Turns out, cooking a meal like this is a huge ordeal; it takes forever to prepare the raw chicken. It would all be worth it, though, when I got the answer I wanted.

                Suddenly the front door opened. “Hi, Daddy!” I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly the second he stepped through the door. “How was work today?”

                “Uh, it was fine.” Dad was a bit startled.

                “Can I take your suitcase for you? I’ll put it in your office. On your desk, right where you always put it.”       I took his suitcase from his hands and waltzed away.

                Dad sniffed the air. “Did Mom make chicken for dinner?”

                “Not Mom,” I replied when I returned. “I did.”

                “You did?” Dad was surprised. A smile spread across his lips. “I didn’t know you knew how to make chicken.”

                I shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. Chicken’s your favorite dinner, right?”

                “Sure is,” Dad said. He took a step into the dining room and inhaled deeply. “Kirin this…this looks fantastic! Did you put all of this together?”

                I shrugged again. “It was nothing, Dad, really. All in a day’s work.”

                “I’ll say.” Suddenly Mom appeared in the doorframe. “Kirin’s been cooking and cleaning all day.”

                Dad’s eyes were wide. “Is that right?” he asked, glancing at me.

                “Why don’t we discuss this over dinner?” I asked, gesturing to the feast before us. I pulled out a chair for my father to sit in. “Dad, you must be so worn out from your day at work!”

                Dad slowly sat in his seat at the head of the table. He and Mom were sharing skeptical glances, wondering what on earth had gotten into me.

                I pulled out a chair for my mother and she sat down. “I’ll be right out with your drinks,” I said before I floated into the kitchen. I snatched the two wine glasses half filled with one of Dad’s red wines. I had no idea if red wine went with the dinner we were having, but it came in a fancy bottle so I figured it had to be special. I set the wine glasses down in front of my parents.

                “Wine too?” Dad asked, inspecting his glass.

                “And roasted chicken for dinner?” Mom asked, glancing at the golden hunk of meat on the table. She and Dad looked at each other again, looks of sheer curiosity on their faces.

                “Nothing’s too good for my amazing parents,” I answered, sitting down in my usual seat at the dinner table. “Now, bon appetite!”

                My stomach was churning; not because I was hungry, but because I had been waiting for this moment. I hoped the chicken was cooked correctly. I hoped I put the fork on the right side of the plate. I hoped I had given them the correct knives. I hoped my parents would appreciate the neat and tidy house and the delicious spread of food for dinner I prepared. I needed my plan to work. I slaved over a hot stove and a toilet in the bathroom all day; would they be impressed with all my efforts? Was this enough to make them appreciate me even more, perhaps enough to give me the answer I wanted?

                “Kirin, this is delicious,” Dad said after he swallowed a lump of chicken.

                “Yes, it was so sweet of you to make such a nice dinner for us,” Mom agreed with a wide smile.

                My hands were clammy. I nervously wiped them on my thighs. “Anything for the most wonderful parents in the world who I adore very, very much.” I took a deep breath. Time to put my amateur acting skills to the test. “I just wanted to show you both how much I love and appreciate everything you do for me.” I sighed dramatically before continuing. “You two work so hard all day, and I take it all for granted. I love both of you. And you both know I would do anything in the world to make you happy. Aren’t you proud of the responsible, caring young lady I’ve become? I’ve done so much both of you today, and I…I…” I tried to make it look like I was getting emotional. I was doing a pretty good job of it, if I do say so myself. “I’m sorry, I’m getting a little emotional…”

                “You’re not bringing Byunghun to California with us,” Dad said flatly, resuming eating.

                Well. That was blunt.

                Just like that, I dropped my act. “Dad!” I whined desperately.

                “Kirin, did you really think we would fall for this?” Dad chuckled.

                “I was doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?!” I cried. “I made this entire dinner! I cleaned the whole house all day!”
                “Thank you very much for doing so,” Dad said. “But you can’t bribe us with a clean house and nice dinner.”

                “Dad, please?” I begged—literally begged. I clasped my hands together and put on my best puppy dog eyes. I was about to get on my knees. “Byunghun’s dying to go back to America! His mom and his brother are there, and he never gets to see them! Daddy, can he please come? Please? He’s so sweet and polite! And he’d pay for his own plane ticket! He wouldn’t be a hassle to us at all! Please Daddy, please? I don’t have any siblings, so who would I hang out with when you and Mom are out? Please, Daddy, please, please, please?”

                “Kirin, I don’t see why he—”

                “Can’t come with us.”

                My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. Did I just hear what I thought I heard?

                I let a sharp gasp escaped my lips. My hands flew to my mouth and my eyes grew ten times their normal size. I felt my heart beat faster and my heart race. What did my mom just say?

                “What?” Dad hissed.

                “Oh, Chanho, why not? Byunghun lived in Los Angeles for crying out loud. He could keep Kirin occupied when we’re busy.”

                “Yoonji, this is supposed to be a family vacation,” my dad said back.

                “Chanho,” Mom said firmly. “Byunghun’s practically family. He’s coming with us.”

                At that moment, I sprang up from the table and let out a loud squeal. I ran over to my mom and squeezed her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

                Dad was outnumbered. He sat back in his seat and ran his fingers through his short, graying hair. “Are you sure he’d even be able to come?”

                “Of course!” I exclaimed.

                Dad sighed deeply, dropping his gaze. “And this would really make you happy?”

                “Dad, this would make me more than happy,” I begged. “This would make me ecstatic! Delighted! Thrilled! You have no idea how badly I want him to come!”

                Dad closed his eyes, thinking a moment. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but,” he opened his eyes and looked right into my eyes. “He can come.”

                I’d never heard three more beautiful words in my entire life. Okay, well, they weren’t as good as Byunghun saying “I love you,” but they still sounded like music to my ears. Squealing loudly like a squirmy, hyperactive piglet, I threw my arms around my father and squeezed him tightly. “THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!”

                Dad sighed chucked, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t believe you cleaned the entire house and made this dinner just to get your boyfriend to come to California with us.”

                I threw my arms out at my sides. “It worked, didn’t it?”

                Mom laughed. “Okay, okay. Well now that that’s been settled, can we enjoy our lovely dinner?”

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AHHHH!!! Have you all listened to "Where's Ma Girl"? Niel says "fly with me" in that song! That's the title of my fanfic! :D