Chapter 5: Under the Table

Mina kept looking at him.

"You look like someone," she said.

"I get that a lot," Eli said. "I have a common face."

"You don't, actually."

My mother came down the hall behind her in an apron, waving a wooden spoon.

"Mina, move! Let them in! Eli, welcome, welcome, come in."

Mina stepped aside.

She didn't stop watching him.

Dinner was at seven in the dining room, with the good plates.

My mother had made galbi and japchae and four kinds of banchan and a whole roast chicken in case Eli didn't like Korean food.

My father sat at the head.

Mina sat across from Eli with her fiancé beside her, a tax attorney with very white teeth.

Jae sat next to me.

My two aunts from Chicago sat at the end and stared at Eli.

My mother filled his plate before he sat down.

Then she filled it again.

"Eat, eat," she said.

He ate.

He ate everything she put in front of him, and he said "this is really good" in a way that made her glow.

Mina waited until he had his mouth full.

"So, Eli. What did you two do last weekend?"

He finished chewing.

"Hiking. Devil's Lake."

I'd spent last weekend in the library with my finance textbook and a bag of pretzels.

"Really," Mina said. "Hana hates hiking."

"She does," Eli agreed. "She complained for six miles."

Under the table, his hand settled on my knee.

It was warm and heavy and completely still.

It didn't squeeze or move.

It just stayed there.

"Which trail?" Mina said.

"East Bluff. She made me stop at every overlook so she could draw the rocks."