Junjin doesn’t go to school for the next two days, and Eric tries not to worry. It’s easy enough to distract himself with matters concerning the café, baking bread and pastries at home until the wee hours of the morning while being serenaded by radio ballads, and helping Andy get ready for school as well as checking homework afterwards. He can handle that.

What he can’t handle, however, are the meltdowns Andy is suddenly prone to. Andy’s tantrums aren’t new, and have resulted in many a black eye (for Eric) and a broken appliance more than once. It’s something they’ve always been working on to improve, especially since Yumi’s…loss…but with Junjin also gone, Andy’s everyday equilibrium that he seemed to have regained appears to have been shaken, and Eric is admittedly grasping at straws.

“You said he was okay!” Andy whines loudly as Eric cajoles him to eat some dinner. The café is usually at its busiest near closing time, so Andy’s outburst causes several of the customers to turn and look.

“I did, because that’s what the doctor said.” Eric pushes the bowl of dumpling soup towards his son, ignoring the stares surrounding them. His main concern at the moment is getting his son fed. Junjin has only been gone two days and already Andy’s appetite, in addition to his behavior, has taken a downturn. “Andrew. Eat.”

“NO!” Andy slams the table with his palm, causing the soup to splatter. A sneakered foot makes contact with the table leg, spilling the soup further. “NO, NO, NO!”

“Now, now, kid. No need to yell,” Minwoo scolds gently as he suddenly appears beside Eric to act as backup, something he consistently does whenever tensions run high between them. Eric sees as Minwoo surreptitiously moves the soup bowl from the table to the bar area to avoid any major catastrophes. “And no kicking please. You know, maybe Jinnie’s dad just decided to keep him home to help him feel better.”

Minwoo has the patience of a saint. Eric could kiss him.

“But…” Andy is red-faced and frustrated. His small thin chest is heaving, unable to fully express his emotions. “But I need him HERE. He’s my friend!”

There is sobbing now, loud and uninhibited, shattering the comfortable din inside the café. Eric lets his instincts take over. Despite customers looking, he pulls off his café apron and scoots into the booth Andy is in. Andy initially pushes him away and although there’s the threat of a stray fist hitting him in the eye, Eric persists, bodily lifting his son and pulling him onto his lap. He himself is exhausted and spent, but if these past few months have not been easy for him, he imagines that for Andy it may have been even more difficult.

“Hey, hey.” He shushes, letting Andy cry against him. He winces as Andy punches his chest, his small knuckles hard against Eric’s sternum. “Ow. Andy, you’re hurting Daddy.” He pulls his son up and tries to meet his gaze, recalling hours upon hours of child therapy sessions they’ve had to undergo. Andy’s cheeks and lashes are wet with tears. “We talked about this, right? Talk to me. I want to help you.”

Andy gulps. His lower lip is pursed in defiance. “I’m mad, Daddy.”

“Why are you mad?”

“I don’t know. But I’m mad. Because I’m left alone.”

“Who left you alone?”

“Jinnie.” Andy answers right away. “And Mama.”

The words hit Eric like a punch to the throat. That he didn’t expect.

“Honey, Jinnie will come back….” He can’t find it in him to say the same about Yumi because he will not lie to his son, but he feels at the very least he should dispense some optimism for Junjin. “He will, I promise.”

“How are you sure?” Andy asks despairingly. “Daddy, how are you sure he hasn’t left forever?”

Like Mama. The words aren’t said but are still there. Eric has to steady his breath before he replies.

“I know so,” he says firmly. “Jinnie is at home with his Daddy who’s taking care of him.” He refrains from making a face at the mention of Hyesung, for Andy’s sake. “He’s okay, bubba. He’s just resting. You remember when you broke your arm when you went skating and you had to skip school?”

Andy wipes his face, his sobbing slowing down to hiccups. “Yeah…”

“Well it’s the same as that. He probably just needs to rest…”

He’s interrupted by the sound of the café door opening, signaled by the gentle tinkling of the wind chime they’ve hung above the door. Minwoo turns to greet the newest customer.

“Oh, hello!” Eric hears Minwoo say, his tone light and jovial. “I didn’t expect you to come, Dongwan-ssi!”

At this, Eric turns. Dongwan is approaching their table with sure-footed steps and a sheepish expression on his face. He’s still lugging his overstuffed camera bag on his left shoulder.

“Hello, Eric-ssi. Minwoo-ssi,” Dongwan greets them with a small nod of his head. “Andy-ssi.”

Eric peers at him, unsure whether or not he should feel uneasy about Dongwan’s arrival. It isn’t exactly the best time, especially with a distressed child on his lap. But Dongwan looks as though he doesn’t expect to be denied an invitation to join them.

“Hi,” Eric says instead, keeping his tone level. He wonders what Dongwan can possibly want. “Can we help you?”

“Do you guys have a quick minute?”

Of course they ing don’t, but Eric is too polite to say no. “Grab a seat,” he says instead.

Andy isn’t in the mood to socialize and so hides his face by pressing it against Eric’s arm while furiously on his thumb for comfort. Eric is grateful that Dongwan at least notices their small crisis and proceeds to pretend that Andy isn’t there. When he slides into the booth opposite them, he only looks at Eric directly.

“Sorry if I just dropped by but I’ve come because I wanted to apologize.” Dongwan says, speaking first and in that rushed manner of his. “That showdown at the hospital…that could have been dealt with better. I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

Something in Eric bristles at the mention of the incident. For two days he’s been trying not to think about whether or not Junjin’s injury may be more than what they feared, or about the possibility of a lawsuit. For two days he’s tried not to think of Junjin’s father, that handsome, arrogant, cold , but he’s almost always failed.

“You’re always welcome here, but why are you saying sorry?” Minwoo asks, raising an eyebrow. He walks towards the bar, turning on the espresso machine as he walks past. “He didn’t send you, did he? Shin Hyesung-nim?”

Dongwan looks slighted. “No! Of course not. He may actually kill me if he finds out I’ve come here, but I figured he wouldn’t have come anyway and we did owe you an apology…this was the earliest free hour in my schedule so I came here to do it properly.”

Eric and Minwoo exchange glances before Minwoo heads off to disappear behind the bar.

“Take a load off.” Minwoo says to Dongwan, nearly shouting over the whirring and buzzing of the espresso machine. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

“How are you guys related anyway? You and…Shin Hyesung-nim.” Eric asks, curiosity now overpowering his annoyance. “Are you related?”

“Of sorts. By marriage. Also, I’m Junjin’s godfather.” Dongwan’s shrugs as he peers at the salt and pepper shakers on the table and rolls them over in his hand. He has a carefree air about him, practically the opposite of Hyesung’s. “That’s maybe the only reason I’m still alive today, since there aren’t a lot of people Hyesung can trust to leave Junjin with.”

“And I was a suitable choice?” Eric asks. Dongwan’s aloof attitude about the whole situation, as if he hadn’t ended up getting punched because of it, irritates him, but he finds it hard to dislike the other man completely. “You could have at least warned me he’d go berserk.”

Dongwan grimaces. “Hyesung is a bit over-the-top when it comes to Junjin. I did explain the situation to him though. He’s a busy guy, and Junjin is still too young to go home by himself, so we really don’t have a choice. But once I finish this project, I’ll be able to pick him up from school on time and get him home, so we won’t be bothering you any further.”

“And take away the kids’ playtime?” Minwoo approaches their table and places a demitasse cup filled with espresso in front of the other man. Beside it he places a plate of Russian tea cookies, round and dense and with a thin coating of powdered sugar, just the right size for dipping into the coffee. “Nah, come on, there has to be a compromise in this. The kids love being together.”

“Yeah well…” Dongwan makes a face. “We’ll see what Hyesung says. Personally, I’d prefer if Junjin could hang out with kids a bit more; the only ones he really knows are the ones from school...”

Eric feels as Andy fidgets in his arms. He’s listening in on their conversation.

“Speaking of Junjin…is he all right?” Eric asks, bringing up the topic Andy at least needs to hear. “He hasn’t been going to school.”

“Yes, of course he’s all right.” Dongwan says, and warm relief floods into Eric. “Hyesung just wanted to be safe and let him rest a bit. They’ve both been at the house. He’s okay though, I can assure you; I visited them last night.” Dongwan leans forward, now looking directly at Andy. “Andy, how has school been? Do you miss Junjin?”

At this, Andy twists around to face Dongwan, his cheeks flushed and his hands balled into fists. “Is Junjin coming back?” he asks, and Eric feels as he tenses against him like a coiled spring. “Daddy…he said he was.”

“Well, your Daddy’s right. He’ll be back in school tomorrow, so you can see him then.” Dongwan grins, his teeth flashing in the last of that afternoon’s sunlight. Eric decides that Dongwan is affable enough, if a bit infuriating, but nowhere near as enraging as Hyesung. What Eric appreciates anyway is when people acknowledge his son and treat him with the kindness and respect that he wants Andy to receive and emulate. So far, Dongwan has been pretty good at it, despite the obvious langu of Andy only speaking in English and Dongwan speaking solely in Korean.

Minwoo has taken the seat beside Dongwan and now his eyes are widening theatrically. “You hear that, Andy? You’ll see Junjin tomorrow, isn’t that great!”

This time, Eric joins in, eager to lift his son’s mood. “You can help Jinnie with writing and coloring then. He’ll need it because his arm will still be in the sling. What do you think, huh? Doesn’t that make you feel better?”

This time, Andy is able to give a small, shy smile, and the sight of it after many grievous moments in the past 48 hours brightens Eric’s own spirits. “I can share my pencils and crayons too.” Andy sits up suddenly. “And lunch! Daddy, don’t forget to pack Jinnie a lunch too.”

Dongwan raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Wait, you pack my godson a lunch? Hyesung gives him enough pocket money to buy his lunch at the school.”

“Yeah well…Andy asked me to always make two lunches since he used to share with Junjin.” Eric says, unsure how he should venture into this new territory of being a parent. He understands why it would make Dongwan uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to think of what Hyesung would think of the arrangement, should he find out. “It’s not a big deal, they’re not huge lunches anyway. And Junjin seems to enjoy them.” He would offer to stop them if it would be more appropriate but decides against it. It’s just food, for God’s sakes.

“It’s just a sandwich usually,” Minwoo pipes up, backing up his guilty conscience. “Then we feed them again here in the afternoons. Junjin always finishes his food.”

At this, Dongwan gives a proud smile. “That’s good. He’s an easy kid most times, but he can be pretty difficult to feed, I know.” He sighs fondly.

“Not here in this house,” Minwoo says. “And he always finishes the lunches Eric packs him too.”

Eric nods in agreement. He doesn’t believe in picky children, just unadventurous adults. Junjin has shown an expansive palate and a curious appetite, and Eric has figured that, much like Andy, Junjin isn’t a child being raised solely on junk food like burgers and chicken nuggets, but on other things more refined. It only makes him even more curious of the boy’s background.

“He’s always welcome to stay here. If amenable to his father,” at this, Eric gulps, “I’d love to have him around so he and Andy can do homework before you take him home. They’ll probably need only an hour, tops. Then you can come by and pick him up.”

“You’re welcome to have dinner here too,” Minwoo offers. “No need to rush every time.”

Dongwan is chewing on a tea cookie. His lips are already flecked with sugar. “I guess that could work,” he says thoughtfully. “The kid could use the company anyway since I’d be bringing him back to a nearly empty house, and I usually have to work even when I watch him.” The description makes Eric ache for Junjin. How lonely could that child be?

“Where does Junjin’s father work? Why does he finish so late?” Eric asks, unable to help himself. “Who’s with Junjin at home when you drop him off?”

“I stay with him, of course.” Dongwan looks slightly affronted, but deftly avoids the other questions. “The housekeeper is there too.” He seems to be considering their suggestion. “I mean…I guess we can give it a try? He does like it here a lot with Andy, and he’ll at least be done with homework. Hopefully no other accidents will happen.”

“With you here, there shouldn’t be. But I’d like to think after that incident the boys are going to be more self-contained.” Minwoo says. He nudges Dongwan with his shoulder, a candid and friendly gesture. “Was Hyesung-ssi going to hit us with a lawsuit then?”

Dongwan shakes his head. “No, I talked him out of it. I told you, Hyesung tends to overreact a bit when it comes to Junjin.” He grins. “You took a lot of pot shots at him too, so he was naturally pissed off.”

Eric shrugs. He still isn’t sorry for them. Dongwan doesn’t ask for an apology anyway.

“Tomorrow, Jinnie comes back?” Andy asks, sounding hopeful. He’s been watching the grown-ups talk but Eric isn’t sure how much he actually absorbed. The intensity has vanished from his limbs and he’s all but melted into Eric’s lap. Eric gives his son a comforting squeeze, relieved for the abated storm.

“Tomorrow,” he says with certainty. And now since he has his son’s attention he attempts a gamble: “Will you be able to eat your dinner now, so tomorrow when you meet with Junjin you can have the energy to run and play around and help him out?”

Andy nods, sliding off of Eric’s lap to take his seat against the booth, patiently waiting as Minwoo fetches his dinner which has been sitting underneath the warmer.

--

Junjin does show up at the pick-up point the next day, his left hand holding on to Andy’s right while his right arm is still resting in the sling. His face brightens as Eric approaches, and he rushes to hug him once he gets close enough. Eric’s heart grows warm as the boy’s hold tightens. Junjin is open and affectionate and so easy to love; he never thought he could like another child as much as he likes his own son, but this boy has definitely grown on him.

“Uncle Dongwan says I can go with you and then he’ll pick me up later!” Junjin announces, his voice loud and lively.

“Yeah?” Eric laughs. “That’s good. How are you? You okay?” He asks as they pull apart, kneeling down to the boys’ level. “Lemme take a look at you.”

Junjin doesn’t look any worse for wear. Apart from the sling, he looks perfectly all right, with his hair still neatly gelled, his uniform pressed and washed, and his smile wide as ever. When he does, a small dimple appears on his cheek and his eyes nearly vanish into his face. Eric resists pinching him.

“I’m okay. Andy helped me with school.” Junjin scratches his nose with his good hand.

“Yeah, Daddy, we had to write about the sky for English. Jinnie can’t write fast with his left hand so I wrote for him.” Andy is hopping from foot to foot in excitement, the 180-degree change in his attitude from the past few days now completely evident. “But we had singing and stuff too.”

“Good job.” Eric smiles. “Did you like lunch?” Lunch that day was just roast beef and provolone cheese, but Eric had made the extra effort to cut them into star and moon shapes. He’d also added some mini gherkins for extra flavor since Andy loves them, as well as a small packet of yogurt-coated raisins.

Junjin bites his lip. “Yes. But I could only finish one star because my daddy made me lunch.”

“Oh?” Eric is surprised to hear that Hyesung can actually cook. He just…doesn’t seem the type. “That’s okay. What did your daddy make you?”

“Um. Kimbap.” Junjin says almost too quickly. “I have to finish it. But I can finish the other star and moon sandwich later too.” He smiles. “They’re super awesome!”

“I like your food better, Daddy.” Andy says definitively. “I don’t like semesam.”

“Huh?”

“Semasee.” Andy tries again. “You know, the tiny…the teeny bitty baby seeds?” He pinches two fingers together and closes one eye to emphasize his point.

“…Sesame?” Eric guesses, and Andy nods.

“Yeah.” He confirms. “I don’t like them.”

Eric wonders what the correlation is but decides to just have it for another conversation. For now, he stands, brushes the dust off his jeans, and holds both boys’ hands.

“Okay. To the café then, boys?”

Both Andy and Junjin cheer like kindred pirates in a ragtag band, the worries of the past few days gone like the passing wind.

“YEAH!”

--

Autumn deepens. The gingko trees surrounding the neighborhood turn the color of gilded sunshine, but then shiver and shake off their leaves with each frosty breeze that blows through, leaving the streets covered in layers upon layers of soft gold.

A busy afternoon at the café means a late dinner for him. No matter, he will always make do.

Eric invites Minwoo to their house to unwind after a particularly busy day. For some reason, people love the pumpkin and pecan pinwheels they make available at the café and are coming in droves. They are also demanding for more, but Eric is adamant on keeping the pastry items on a rotating basis. The pinwheels also take a lot of his own effort and time to prepare and he just can’t handle doing that several days in a row.

Dig through your freezer and look for any appropriate cuts of meat. You’re tired and hungry; only meat will satisfy the empty ache in your gut. Locate a pile of lamb chops that was supposed to have been dinner a week or two past. Haul it out of the freezer. Be careful not to get a concussion as other cuts of meat and frozen pastries start falling out.

“We already decided on sweet potato snowmen and maple bacon rolls last week.” Minwoo is sitting at the kitchen island, checking the notebook he keeps to keep track of their planned pastry and menu rotations, as well as his notes on the café’s other needs. “Are you set on doing that tonight?”

Fill the sink with hot tap water (the hottest it can go) and throw the lamb chops in sans packaging to defrost. Stir to dispel cool spots. If you do this right, you’d have defrosted your meat in ten minutes or less.

Eric nods. He’s done a few things ahead for the pastries to be made tonight so it will require less prep time. As Minwoo runs down the list, he does a quick check on Andy whom he’d left to watch a Ducktales episode in the master bedroom for a post-bath, pre-bedtime treat. He finds his son asleep, wrapped around a gigantic stuffed monkey. Eric puts the iPad away, kisses him, and tucks him in. He doesn’t miss the paper ninja star clutched in Andy’s fist.

In the kitchen, the radio is playing its usual set of ballads, and hears as Minwoo hums in time with the song: Can’t I stay in the time that I loved you? Your scent won’t get erased.

“Ah, what melancholy.” Minwoo comments as Eric shuffles back to check on the lamb. “This is what you do every night? I’m relieved the stuff you bake don’t turn out sour or anything.”

Eric throws a dish towel at him. “Shut up.”

Get a shallow casserole dish and plunk your thawed lamb in. Score the fat and season with salt and pepper. Line them up like soldiers, fat side down, on the dish. Throw it into the oven set to medium-high heat and leave it alone for 5 minutes for the fat to render and crisp.

Minwoo glances around the apartment. “Minimalist, huh. I like it.”

Eric snorts as he rummages through the vegetable crisper. He knows without looking that the apartment is nearly exactly the same way it was when Minwoo first handed him the keys. The entire living space is predominantly black, white, and tan, with the occasional bronze accents. The only things that contribute any color are Andy’s clothes and toys and other school items that occasionally clutter up the area, like the red Nintendo Switch lying casually on the couch or the frog-shaped school bag hanging from one of the bar chairs. “I hardly put anything in. This is still pretty much all your stuff.”

Trim and add whole baby carrots into the casserole dish with the lamb. Bash a few cloves of garlic and leave the skins on. Throw them in as well.

“That was my point, doofus.” Minwoo sighs. “You want me to help you go furniture shopping? Get some stuff that’s more yours and Andy’s style?”

“What for? The apartment already has everything.” Minwoo had even furnished each of the bedrooms; Andy’s had a whole crate of toys and stuffed animals that Eric couldn’t refuse or take back, since his son had already dived headlong into them the moment he saw them when they first arrived. Although initially hesitant on accepting help to this extent, Eric appreciates it on several levels: they weren’t able to bring any large pieces of furniture anyway, and having Minwoo be the interior designer for the apartment they’re living in also makes it wholly unfamiliar, and therefore less likely to remind them of what used to be home. “Which reminds me, I should already pay you rent.”

Minwoo waves him off. “Whenever you’re ready is fine.”

Someday, Eric knows he’ll refuse this charity and demand his friend write up a stricter landlord-tenant contract. For now, he’s just thankful since it allows him enough breathing room to concentrate on other things. Like the café, or school, or dinner. Small things. Doable things.

Turn the lamb chops on their sides and cook for 2 minutes on each side. They should be golden on the outside, but still rosy in the middle when you cut it open.

He tosses Minwoo an orange. “Zest that, will you? Quickly please.” Eric says as he looks for a big enough dish to plate their food in. Minwoo gives him a small salute with a peeler that he fishes out from one of the island drawers.

“Aye aye.”

In the background, the radio ballads have melded into the clinking and slamming taking place into the kitchen. Somewhere, a loud buzzing suddenly joins the chaos, and when Eric glances, he sees it’s Minwoo’s phone vibrating against the countertop. He takes over zesting duties to free Minwoo up to answer, not wanting to risk it being a client or anyone of Minwoo’s family.

“Hello?”

Speed-peel orange zest straight into the casserole dish and add a few sprigs of thyme. Toss them all together to let the flavors get acquainted with each other. If the meat is done, take them out and put them aside.

“Shin Hyesung-nim?”

Eric stops.

“No, it’s all right, you weren’t disturbing anything. Eric Mun?” Minwoo glances up at him with a questioning look, but Eric is unable to respond quickly enough. “Yes. Yes, he’s here. Hang on.”

.

Eric widens his eyes as Minwoo hands him the phone, his hands still slick with oils from zesting the orange. What does he want, he mouths to Minwoo, because it’s been two weeks since Junjin’s accident, and they haven’t heard neither hide nor hair from Shin Hyesung. Eric has considered it a good thing, especially since Junjin is still staying over at the café after school, but now more often joined by Dongwan who has just wrapped up his most recent project and offering to photograph their items for a new menu ("Did you take these with an iPhone or something?! I could do it a billion times better"). None of them has ever asked Dongwan again whether or not Hyesung has given his express permission about the current arrangement, but since both Junjin and Andy have been well-behaved and enjoying themselves, it’s not really been the most pressing thing on Eric’s mind.

Eric shuts his eyes before he speaks. He’s strangely nervous.

“Hello?”

“Eric Mun.” Hyesung says, and Eric barely recognizes him from the enraged father he had met in the hospital ER. The other man’s voice is calm and almost silky in its smoothness. Right away, Eric doesn’t trust it. “Andy’s father. Do you remember me?”

“Of course.” His stomach feels like a stone’s been dropped into it, and he does his best to keep his own voice level. “How can I help you, Hyesung-ssi?”

“I’ve been reconsidering our first meeting and have concluded it wasn’t done under the best circumstances.” Hyesung barely uses any formalities but his way of speaking is ridiculously formal that Eric feels more confused than anything else.

“Er…is this supposed to be an apology?” Eric asks, raising an eyebrow. He can hear Hyesung scoff softly on the other line.

“No.” Hyesung says. A You wish hangs in the air, unspoken. “But my son has talked of nothing else but your son the past few weeks and how they are such good friends. I’m of course glad that they are both adjusting well to school.”

“Okay…” Eric isn’t sure where this conversation can possibly lead. His irritation is also building so his American habits slip through and he drops the Korean formalities. “And?”

“The reason I’m calling is Choongjae’s birthday party is this weekend. He asked me to invite you and Andy and Minwoo-ssi especially. I’m here to ask you now if you are available to confirm.”

His tone is neutral but Eric knows Hyesung is using all his effort not to speak with gritted teeth. In the short time that they’ve actually known each other, it’s clear that they just do not mix well. It’s a strange feeling as the only other parent Eric had ever felt this kind of disdain towards was a mother whose son had pushed Andy down into the ground at the playground, and then proceeded to pretend like their child had nothing to do with the blood on Andy’s lip. He remembers nearly yelling himself raw. It shocks him to realize that that was only a year ago; it already feels like a lifetime away.

(It’s not worth it, babe. It’s not worth it. Just walk away. As long as Andy is fine, it’s okay. He’ll survive it, and so will you. You can’t retaliate and start a war on everyone who tries to start a fight.)

“Eric Mun…nim.”

Eric shakes his head, crash-landing back into the present.

“Of course.” He smiles so it colors his tone. He will not let Hyesung win. “We’d be happy to.”

“Good.” Hyesung says, although his tone implies it’s anything but. “Choongjae will be happy to hear it. You may bring your…wife…of course, if she is also available.”

Although Hyesung probably means nothing by it and is just extending the invitation by courtesy, the pain that one word brings is so immense, Eric has to steady himself by holding on the counter edge. His visions gray at the edges and he gulps. The next few words he’s able to push out almost feels like he’s spitting out bones.

“Yes. We will be there.” He confirms, then promptly gives the phone back to Minwoo, who accepts it with a worried look in his eyes. He turns away and turns his attentions back to the oven, concentrates on his reflection on the tempered glass, trying to steady shaking breaths.

“Hello? Yes, sorry about that, Hyesung-ssi, but Andy was calling Eric…kids, you know. Anyway, what was that that Eric confirmed…?”

Make sure everything hasn’t burnt to a crisp in the oven. If it’s still salvageable, juice three oranges into the casserole dish. Turn away when the scent of oranges makes you long for home so badly you nearly lose yourself in an existential crisis. Let the juice bubble and reduce until sticky. Let your ribs loosen and your heart slowly recoup from its shattered state.

“Eric?”

Toss the lamb back in with the juices gathered during its resting period.

“Eric, you okay?”

Plate. Serve.

“Yeah. Of course.” Eric swallows the sour taste building at the back of his throat. He straightens and re-gathers his nerves. He places the platter of sticky lamb chops onto the counter as well as two empty plates. His hands are trembling. “What…what did Hyesung say?”

“He said he’ll send me an invite to my email. Junjin’s birthday party will be at their house.”

Eric serves them three lamb chops and a heaping pile of roasted carrots each. “Great,” he says flatly. He suddenly feels drained of energy and can’t find it in himself to procure any relevant feelings for the upcoming event. The scent of oranges wafts into his nose again. His throat tightens.

“You know what’s funny though?” Minwoo is still talking, either on purpose to distract him or because he’s clueless to Eric’s plight. “It feels like I know him from somewhere. Like…he’s just familiar somehow. But I can’t put my finger on it.”

Eric doesn’t reply. He had also felt a slight deja-vu while speaking to Hyesung without seeing his face but the actual connection has eluded him. Now he’s getting a headache and they still have to get past dinner and prep the pastries for tomorrow’s opening, as well as get the kids’ lunches for tomorrow ready…. There’s still so much to do and so little time to do it, Hyesung can honestly wait a goddamn minute before they can spare him an additional brain cell.

“Could you turn that off please?” Eric gestures to the radio, which is still playing an endless stream of ballads. Minwoo stands without further comment and walks over to the bronze display shelf where the radio is and promptly shuts it off. Eric feels as Minwoo’s eyes rest on him, studying him. With worry? With pity?

“Eric. I’ll help you with the pastries tonight, don’t worry.”

“No, you don’t have to.” Eric doesn’t want to accept any more charity from his friend. It’s just too much. “I’ve got it covered. I swear.”

“Shut up, I want to. It’s my café too. I need to make sure we have everything ready.”

Minwoo is firm but the underlying emotion in his words is nothing but concern. He takes his seat again opposite Eric at the kitchen island.

“I can do it. No biggie.”

“You don’t even know how to bake.” Eric says lamely, but his resolve has already weakened. He never expected a single word thrown at him without warning would affect him so much.

(My wife…I’m looking for my wife…Yumi Mun…I saw on the news…)

“I can follow instructions well enough.” Minwoo is still talking, undeterred by Eric’s discouragement.” I can cut and slice and mix and what have you. It’ll be easier with two rather than just one, trust me. Let me help you, man. It’s okay.”

(If you need any help…anything at all, man. I’m all ears. If you want to fly out here to Seoul with your son for a break, I can set you up. I’m so sorry about Yumi…)

Good old Minwoo.

“Okay,” Eric sighs. He rubs at his eyes with his thumbs. He’s so tired but if his oldest and best friend is offering him a helping hand, well…he’ll just have to accept for now, his pride be damned. “Okay. But don’t fall asleep on me, or I’ll kick your . I’m warning you now.”

“Funny, I was about to tell you the same thing." Minwoo grins. "Didn't know a guy like Shin Hyesung would have that effect on you.”

“Shut the up.” Eric manages a crooked smile, already feeling a little bit more whole. Minwoo picks up a chop without bothering with a fork, clamping the bone between his thumb and two of his fingers and ripping a strip of meat off with his teeth. His lips glisten amber from the orange juice reduction, and a trail of it dribbles down his chin. 

“This lamb...is so ing delicious.” His eyes disappear into lines behind Clark Kent-esque glasses that are more for show than actual function. "Maybe if we make them for Hyesung he won't be such a stuck-up jerk and actually have a decent conversation with us for a change. I feel like he's an interesting guy."

"More like a douche." Eric mutters. He doesn't want to know anything more about Shin Hyesung except maybe further information on how he is as a father to Junjin. Eric can already feel his temper flaring at the thought of him neglecting the boy in any way, and he's pretty sure Hyesung does, even if not on purpose. Anything else about the man, he doesn't care for.

"Never say never." Minwoo says, almost in sing-song, as though reading his thoughts. "Don't write him off yet. You never really know what'll happen."

"I've no use for him. Except maybe for playdates."

"Doesn't that make you practically in-laws?"

"He ing wishes."

"Sweet."

"You know what, I've changed my mind. You can leave."

Minwoo sticks his tongue out at him. "I own this building. You can lock the door on your way out. I'll have Andy's adoption papers ready by tomorrow morning."

Eric laughs, genuinely this time, his stomach cramping with the sudden movement. Minwoo tsks at him good-naturedly.

"Now that we have that settled, hurry the up already with that so we can get started on baking. I want to be finished before the sun actually rises. If we're late, I'm taking it out of your paycheck."

tbc

Author's Notes:

1. I'm feeling better! Thanks for the concern. :)
2. TBH this chapter is just...a lot of character-building and explaining, as well as Eric fumbling around with his messy self. He's going through a lot, this guy. I really have no other explanation. He's the one setting the pace, and any forced interaction with Hyesung that I tried to do, he balked at. 
3. Thank you as usual for reading and commenting!!! The pace will pick up once Eric and Hyesung actually gain their footing. I think it's...close. Maybe. LOL. 
4. The song lyrics are In the Time That I Loved You by Junsu.