Valentine’s day falls on a week day. Therefore, the McLarens have postponed the celebration of their love until the following weekend. It has been a long time since they went on a date. Perhaps they feel uncomfortable with the idea because they both readily and perfunctorily decided to put off the occasion. However, Lucy feels on edge about the postponement, too. She secretly resents her husband’s apparently eager consent to wait until the weekend. “Why couldn’t he recognize February 14th somehow today anyway?” she asks herself. She no sooner thinks the question than answers it for herself. “He doesn’t care that much anymore.” This thought gives her some emotional stress.
“Collin! You’ve watched enough TV this week! How about you guys doing something else for a change?” calls the mother to her son, who lounges on a couch alongside the Asian boarder in front of the 36-inch TV screen in the family room next to the open kitchen where her mother putters about distractedly.
Aroused, Collin stretches his neck to turn around at the sound of his mother’s agitated voice questioningly. “Mom, I thought we’d be eating soon. We’re waiting,” he explains. “We don’t want to get into anything different if we’re going to be eating soon. When’s supper?”
“When it’s ready,” is her sharp answer. She is annoyed further at her boy’s apparent disregard for the significance of the day’s date.
“Geez, don’t get angry. You don’t like it when I take off to get involved in something when you’re about to give us a meal. What’s the matter? Isn’t there anything to eat?”
“Of course, there is. We’re having—“ Lucy twirls around trying to recall what she wanted to serve for supper. “Don’t get smart with me! You’ll eat whatever is served!”
“God! What’s the problem? Come on, Minsun. Let’s go downstairs. Mom’s in a bad mood and she needs space.” Minsun knows what that expression means by now. The young men rise and find the stairway leading to the rec room below.
Lucy fumes at the fact that her son has neglected to turn off the television. Its noise seems like foolish blabbering and irritating muzak to her in this moment. “All it takes is a click of the thumb. Is it too much?” she mutters as she hurries to find the remote control on the chesterfield and cut off the annoying sound. She reaches the couch just as a Valentines Day ad comes up to advertise perfume. She verges on tears as she fiercely picks up the apparatus and violently presses the power button so that the remote control slips out of her hand and crashes on the hardwood floor, its case splitting open. “Damn!” she exclaims loudly.
Glen enters the kitchen through the door off the garage just then. “Hey-ho!” he greets the house. Noticing his wife’s creased forehead and uncharacteristic frown, he alters his approach to ask, “What’s wrong, hon?”
“Oh--! Do you have to ask stupid questions all the time?!”
“Oh-oh. What is it now? What can I do?”
“I just broke the remote control. Those boys were watching TV and they left the stupid TV on, again.”
“Hm. Well, let me see.” Putting down his briefcase and tossing his coat onto a kitchen chair he begins to cross the kitchen toward the TV.
“Your shoes!”
“You know they’re not wet. You know I go from the office to the garage and into the car and back into our garage.”
“I always tell you, there’ll be oil and dirt on them regardless.”
Glen raises each foot to take off each polished black shoe, kicking the shoes to the side before taking the next step. He finds the broken apparatus and picks up the pieces to examine them closely. “Nothing broke. If we just find the battery, we can snap the case back together.” Looking around on the floor then crouching down, he discovers the wayward battery under the chesterfield. “Ah, there! No problem. They only cost a few bucks nowadays anyway. You know that.”
“Well, it’s a bother to take a trip to the store at this time of year, is it not?”
“Yeah. But accidents happen. Anyway, it’s not broken this time. Say, what’s bothering you?”
“Oh, there’s only a month to go and there’s still a lot to do for mom’s party. And, you still haven’t told me if you’re coming.”
He sinks his long lean frame into the couch. “Ah. You know, I’m trying to clear my caseload. It’s the admin. They haven’t okayed it. I’ll bug them again tomorrow. Okay? Look, I’ll just tell them I’m going to be away. They owe me vacation time. How’s that?”
“Okay,” replies Lucy treading back to the cooking area.
“Need a hand with dinner?” He notices the lack of cooking smells and sounds. He cranes his neck and fails to see any sign of food preparations. “Look. Take a break. Let me make it.” He gets up to follow her steps to the kitchen. “What do we have, now?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t had my mind on it.”
Glen opens the refrigerator door so survey the food situation. “Hm.” He opens the freezer box and digs through its contents. “There’s a little chicken here, and frozen vegetables. Not much time to thaw them out properly. In that case, getting something from the deep freeze won’t make a difference. What about a vegetarian meal, then? Yeah,” he observes as he closes the freezer’s door, “there is some salad stuff or stir fry stuff. Do we have rice? Or, noodles?” Leaving the fridge door ajar, he turns his attention to the contents of the cupboards. “Yup. There. We have some pasta here.” He removes a package of rotini from the upper cupboard shelf and places it on the counter. Then he opens a lower cupboard door to retrieve a pot. “Let’s just get the pasta cooking and start a stir fry.”
Lucy has retreated from the scene and is sitting on a wooden kitchen chair, watching his calm movements. “Why is he always so bloody calm about everything?” she reflects in silence. “So cool, all the time.” She leans her head over the table onto her hand, elbow resignedly on the table’s surface to support her tired head. She listens to the cold tap water rushing out of the spout into the stainless steel pot.
Switching on a stove element with a “There,” Glen rolls up his shirt sleeves before searching for the cutting board. Finding it and placing it on the opposite counter, he pulls out a sharp chopping knife from the knife block. “Shit. Left the fridge open all that time,” he mutters, shaking his head as he opens a produce drawer in the fridge and selects some vegetables to chop up for the stir-fry. After making his selection and placing the vegetables beside the cutting board, he kicks the door shut and gives his hands a quick wash. He tucks his tie through an opening between the buttons on his shirt after drying his hands and proceeds to take out a large fry pan. “Well we can wait a bit for that, until the pasta is somewhat cooked.” He swings around just as his wife was thinking that he had completely forgotten her presence, yet again.
He winks at her but finds that it does not work to perk her up. Now she looks a little tired and sad, shoulders sagging and head cupped in her propped up hand. So unlike her usual self. But there is beauty in her posture. He steps toward and behind her to put his arms around her. Leaning over, he asks, “How come so glum? Hm?” She does not respond. “Hey, this is a crummy Valentine’s Day. We should have gone out tonight, anyway.” After a pause, he whispers a “happy Valentine’s Day.” He hears her cry. “So, that’s it.”
The water has reached a boil, so he must cross the floor to turn down the heat and tear open the package of pasta shells so that a portion of them can be put into the hot water. That done, he returns to her. She has turned in the chair to face the wall.
Making his way back to her, he hears her say between sobs, “It’s nobody’s fault if we just don’t feel the same way anymore.”
“What are you saying? Nothing’s changed. Maybe that’s it. We’re a bit worn down by routine and obligations to hold the house and the family together, that’s all.” He pulls her up to hold her in his arms. “Come on. Let’s fix the food for the kids and then go out.”
“I can’t go like this now. You know me, I can’t just stop this when it starts.”
“Let’s go get some take out or something, then.”
“Where? It’s too bloody cold out. I’m going upstairs. The boys will smell the food and be up here any moment.”
“I’ll take you up. The pasta will take another 15 minutes or so.” He escorts her upstairs and helps her lay down on the made-up bed. After assuring her of his love with a warm embrace, he leaves the room abruptly, an action which causes another sob to rise in Lucy. “All I get are token gestures,” she complains to herself. But Glen returns quickly with a shopping bag in hand. “here. It’s for our date on Saturday. But under the circumstances, why don’t you open it now?”
Lucy stares speechless. But then she realizes that he will always do the correct thing; like a well trained lawyer, he will remember and follow the correct procedure to the letter. “No, it’s not the right time, with me like this. It’d spoil the occasion if I opened it now. Let’s wait for our date and do it right.”
“It’s up to you, dear.” He kisses her on the forehead. “Relax a bit. Let’s take it easy. I have to go finish dinner. I’ll get the guys to help out for a change.”
He leaves the bedroom to find his daughter in the hallway. “Hi, sweetie,” he gives her, and a pat on the head. “How’s your day going?”
“Fine. Is there something wrong with mom?”
“No. It’s Valentines Day, so we’re giving her a break. I’m making dinner. Want to give me a hand?”
“Sure!”
They go to the kitchen, from which point Glen proceeds to the stairway access and calls down at the boys, “Hey, guys! Come up!”
“Is supper ready?” asks Collin.
“No, because we have to make it. Your mom’s taking a break tonight.”
Collin surfaces with Minsun. “Boy, was she in a weird mood tonight.”
“She’s just a bit tired tonight.” Glen refrains from saying “and frustrated,” as he was about to add, deciding it would be inappropriate for its very accuracy. “She’s had a few hitches in organizing your grandmother’s birthday party. Anyway, it’s Valentine’s Day and she ought to have a break tonight.”
“Right. Valentine’s Day. I bet you’re in the dog house and you have to make supper. Right, Dad?”
“Nonsense. Not at all. I told you why your Mom’s a bit out of sorts today.”
“Woof-woof!” is the answer from Collin. Glen ignores his son’s playful sarcasm.
“Girls are kinda sensitive about that, arnen’t they, Minsun?”
“Yeah, same in Korea.”
“Do you have a girlfriend, Minsun?”
“Sort of. Someone I knew in elementary school. A special friend, yeah.”
“Collin has a friend like that. What’s she doing tonight, Collin? Arf-arf.”
“Ha-ha, Dad. She doesn’t go to our school. I saw her on the weekend when I visited her house. I got her a stuffed animal. She still likes that kind of thing. Minsun helped me pick it out.”
“Yeah,” confirms Minsun. “The girls like stuffed animals. I mailed one to my friend a couple of weeks ago. It’s a cute dinosaur. Hope she got it by now.”
“K, guys. Get me a bag of dinner rolls from the deep freezer, then set the table, eh?”
“Aw. Why didn’t you ask us while we still down there? Come on, Sun, we have to go back downstairs to get some bread rolls. They’re in that freezer down there.”
The boys leave the kitchen to complete their first task. Minsun likes it when there is a problem in the household. Usually, it is too quiet. He is used to animated noisy crowds. Households are crowded and noisy in Korea, and people are very emotional. For Canadians, a little temperamental conduct is alarming whereas Koreans take it in their stride. They like drama and excitement. It is strange in this country where people are quiet and polite, especially in the silence of a Prairie winter. A little anger or sadness upsets everyone. Canadians frown more and laugh less than Koreans. Yet, there faces usually tell all. They are not guarded. Minsun thinks they should not be so naïve and make sure to protect themselves by not showing too much around people. What is more, he thinks they should not speak too freely and expose their heart and mind. It is not wise.
“I think your mom gets the winter blues,” comments Minsun as Collin opens the lid of the freezer to search for the bread rolls.
“Could be,” replies Collin. “Wanna grab your hot sauce and stuff from the bedroom while we’re down here?”
“Your mom keeps some stuff in the kitchen for me.” Minsun’s own mother sends kimchi and other items regularly by post. He thinks that he probably does not really need it and tells his mother that it is an unnecessary expense on top of all the other expenses for which the family makes sacrifices. However, eating Korean foods during his stay in Canada does make it homier for him. He does not know of any Korean restaurants and specialty stores in Calgary, though other students tell them they exist in other Canadian cities.
The boys return to the kitchen with the bread and then find the dishes, placemats and cutlery needed to set the kitchen table. Minsun knows how it is done, although they have chopsticks just for him. The homestay people say, however, that the international students should not expect any special treatment and instead just follow the way things are normally done in the Canadian household so as to learn the culture. The homestay parents know that and are likewise told not arrange for the international student’s cultural practices to be done in the home. Nevertheless, the parents are nice and try to make the students feel more comfortable by indulging them to have and do little things from the students’ home countries in their Canadian homes.
Minsun will talk about Korean culture in one of his classes soon. It is a group project with the three other Koreans in the class.
Minsun is now in the full-blown homestay program as one of the 20-odd international students at Collin’s junior secondary school. There was a welcome party and an orientation at the beginning, two weeks ago. His parents want him to study hard and he has books from his school back in Korea because he will have to write government examinations at the end of the year. For now, though, there is nothing to study, really. The international students have easy things to do and they mostly attend physical education, computer, math, music and art classes where the language is not as difficult as it is in the academic courses.
Most of the international students come in February, which would be closer to the normal start of the year in the Asian home countries—at least they start the program around the time when Lunar New Year is over. This year, Lunar New Year had occurred around the end of January. His parents wanted to come but he convinced them to come later when the weather would be warmer and they could see him in Vancouver, which would be more interesting and pleasant for them. He will be staying in Vancouver for three days in March in order to attend Collin’s great aunt’s big party. His parents are thrilled that there will be a big party to attend, for everyone likes family birthday parties in Korea. For that reason, they agreed to visit him later. He knows that it was more convenient for the family at New Year’s; his parents were present for the New Year celebrations in Korea after all. In addition, his parents have acquaintances in Vancouver and can visit them too, which would give Minsun some more relief from his mother’s anxious over-attention. Besides, he is excited at the prospect of going to Vancouver, too. Afterwards, his mom and dad can see the house in Calgary and visit the Rockies.
Minsun’s parents want to take him home with them in March. But Minsun is hell bent on staying in Canada until November. In November, he would resign himself to returning in order to prepare for the onerous government exams.
Minsun sits himself at his usual place at the table once the table is set, on the odd chair taken from the work space in the basement to accommodate him. He is content to observe the father and his sons quibble with and tease each other. He enjoys this quiet space, mindful of the coming storm in which he will fight to stay longer in Canada. His parents will not like the idea. He should not take this quieter time for granted, therefore.
“Does Mommy want dinner in bed?” asks Trixie. She laughs. “Hah! We sometimes make breakfast in bed for her, so why not Valentine’s supper in bed, Daddy?”
Her father laughs with her. “Well, why not indeed? Go ask your mom what she wants to do, Trix. We’ll do as she wishes then.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Trixie trots upstairs to ask the question of her mother. Lucy feels unusually lazy, stretched out on the bed as she is. She agrees to the suggestion of dinner in bed and tells Trixie where to find the bed tray after asking Trixie to keep her company by eating with her up in the bedroom.
“Sure, Mommy. It’ll be fun,” answers Trixie delightedly. She returns to the kitchen to inform him that it will be dinner for two upstairs, though for mother and daughter instead of husband and wife.
“Oh, I see. You’re taking my place, are you?” is her dad’s response. Silently, he wonders whether that is what Lucy intended, to exclude him for the time being. He shakes off the thought, however, knowing full well that it is best if one of the parents eats with the boys.
“Oh, you two will have your romantic date on Saturday,” smiles Trixie. “I bet you’re going to stay overnight in a hotel downtown.”
“That’s right, my light-bright girl.”
Trixie finds and prepares the tray and her father loads it and proceeds to lift it and take it to his wife, Trixie on his heels. Trixie jumps upon the bed beside her mother in excitement, curling her legs under her and getting into a relatively comfortable dining posture. Lucy sits up properly as Glen places the legs of the bed tray on both sides of her body so that the tray stands over her hips.
“There should be some cake in the freezer if you want dessert,” advises Lucy.
Glen quickly nods and, with a “bon apetit, ladies” quickly turns to head back down to the kitchen. In the kitchen, he tells Collin to go fetch the cake from the deep freeze while he serves their food.
“Aw, geez. I have to run downstairs again?” complains Collin.
“You’d think I was asking you to do a triathlon each time. For Pete’s sake, Collin, it’s only one flight of stairs. Are you such a feeble old man already?”
Collin rises to go fetch the cake without replying, wry smile on his face as he descends the stairs.