Melissa Stanley, 1960-2010.1084Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwVTgEJiVUj
Melissa Stanley, the ghost in my dad’s eyes, was dead. Now he and his former best friend had nothing to hate each other over.
The Priest droned on over the open grave. He growled the same verses used at my grandmother’s funeral, dust to dust and such. Waiting for the resurrection of the dead to come. But my grandmother had been nearly ninety and a saint. I had never met Melissa so I didn’t know if she was a good person. All I knew was that her presence had haunted my mother out of my parents' marriage.
I peeked up the aisle and wondered if it had been the same for his family. With his face turned towards the front, I couldn’t see his expression. He had worn dark glasses for the entire service so I probably would never know what he thought about the woman both of our dads had loved so much.
Dad swatted my knee with his memorial pamphlet and I stopped jiggling it. He had barely spoken two words since we had landed in L.A. three hours earlier. The silence was strangling me.
Crossing my spindly arms over my chest, I looked back towards the front. He shifted his leg out into the aisle. A black boot with a scuffed, pointed toe tapped the damp grass. He turned his bleach blond head towards the sound of the freeway in the distance and snapped his gum. His dad swatted him like mine had done to me.
We couldn’t have been more different if we tried but somehow Joon Seok and I found ourselves in the same boat. The only reason why I knew his name was because I had googled him after his mom had died. My father didn’t know that I knew so much about them.
After Melissa Stanley had ruined them for life with their twisted love triangle, his dad had married a nice Korean girl and brought her back to California. My dad went home to Tennessee and married my mom, 1985’s Cotton Queen. Bin Joon Seok and I were born the same year, 1988. Both only children. His mom dead, mine having left me when I was five. Our dads emotionally useless. At least mine was.
I jolted from my thoughts as the Priest called for us to stand. The heels on my pumps sunk into the dirt. The coffin cranked into the ground. We were solemnly dismissed. Such an anti-climactic ending for a woman who had left so much destruction.
Joon Seok and his dad left first. My father kept his icy blue gaze on the grave as they passed. I glanced over and wondered if he knew who we were. Despite his sunglasses, I knew he was looking at me as well. Joon Seok snapped his gum again and sneered. My heart leaped into my throat, the back of my neck prickling cold as I gripped the back of the chair in front of me. Then he was gone.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I had waited for that moment since hearing we were going to her funeral. My curiosity satiated, I was ready to go home. I didn’t know about the wake at the hotel where we were staying.
Or the fact that my dad would be pounding through a fifth of whiskey with his dad on the patio out back.
I came down to the lobby after freshening my make up in my room. The elevator doors dinged open, glinting in the late afternoon glow. The shifting crowd of acquaintances and family spoke in hushed tones as they sipped coffee and nibbled on tea sandwiches.
As I entered the cafe area, I rested a hand on the sandalwood bar and peered out the wide windows. Shock rushed through my brain as I recognized one of the two figures by the pool. My dad, James Mack, and his dad, Bin Won Ho, were throwing back shots of liquor on a couple of loungers like there was no tomorrow.
“Ironic isn’t it?”
I whipped around. Joon Seok leaned against the bar and took off his black sport coat. The tendons under his heavily tattooed forearms rippled like chain link fence as he waved a folded ten dollar bill at the bartender. I blinked as he snapped his gum.
“What’s ironic?” I snorted, looking down at my chipped nail polish.
“Don’t act like you don’t know who I am. Or what we are here for,” he muttered as he took the beer from the bartender’s hand, “Can I get you one-“
“No. Thank you.”
Joon Seok shook his white blond head and glanced over at me. He was still wearing his sunglasses, like some wannabe rock star, “You look like you could use one.”
I shrugged, “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”
Joon Seok motioned to the bartender once more and got another bottle, “All the more reason to have one. Here, it’s on me.”
Our fingertips brushed as I accepted his offering and I tried not to notice. We weren’t quite the Capulets and Montagues but the quote from ‘Romeo and Juliet’ echoed in my brain. My only love sprung from my only hate. I cringed at the thought. That certainly wasn’t something I saw happening any time soon, not with him lighting up a cigarette. He took the gum from his mouth and stuck it under the bar stool.
“So, it’s Kristen, right?”
“Christina.”
“Right, Christina. Sorry, I don’t keep track of names well. Especially those belonging to people with our joined family history.”
Curiosity sparked in my brain, “What do you know about…all that between those three? Our dads and her.”
“The bitch who they are drinking about out there?” He arched a dark eyebrow and took off his sunglasses. He puffed his smoke, “Not much. Only that she used them both and then married some banker from L.A.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and took a long swig, “When did you find out?”
“My dad told me after my mom died.” His voice dropped.
I dared a peek at him. He turned the bottle with nimble fingers, studying the label with a trained, jet stare. His posture was rigid with hungry energy as though he would hop to his feet at the slightest provocation.
“You?” He spit.
“I figured it out from bits of conversation. Then I googled her.”
He smirked and peered over at me, his glare both disturbing and magnetic. I wished he would put his sunglasses back on, “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”
I shifted on my seat, “Just because I talk slow doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
Joon Seok laughed and threw back the rest of his drink, “Oh right. You’re southern. Tennessee?”
“How did you know?”
“Google.” He winked.
I rolled my eyes and took another drink to quell the flutter of flattery in my chest. It was stupid to think he was flirting. He knew the boundaries between us as much as I did. At least I assumed he did.
He leaped to his feet like a cat. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he pulled me up as well before I could react, “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
“Why?” I pulled my hand away, brushing a loose black curl from my face.
“You really wanna stay around here? You ever been to L.A. before?”
Setting my bottle on the bar, I peered nervously out at our dads on the patio, “No but I don’t want-“
“Believe me. Those two are gone for the night. Out there toasting their ghost. He won’t even notice you’re out,” Joon Seok held out his hand and furrowed his brow, “We’re all alone in this anyway. We might as well be alone together.”
I rubbed my forearm, “You could sugarcoat it a little-“
“I don’t want to, it’s not worth it. C’mon, Tennessee, live a little.” The corners of his lips lifted slightly in the closest thing to a smile that I had seen from him yet.
With a sigh, I jutted out my jaw and met his eyes, “Fine.”
He grabbed my hand and led me out to the waiting taxi line outside the hotel.
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