Author: liz

When Grace and I first met in New York almost 7 years ago, she was pushing around a baby stroller with Willow in it, kind of surprised that someone as young as Grace at the time would have had a child and jumped right into a case at her firm. It was also surprising to see that Willow actually laughed and smiled whenever Grace let me hold her. I had deemed her name as Little Bean, something that she used to go crazy about whenever I called her that. Since then, she’s always been Little Bean to me, even though in a couple of months there’ll be an actual little bean in the family again.

I was folding laundry one day with Grace when her phone rang on the vanity. She looked at the name and sighed, walking out of the room to take the call. From the way she sighed and excused herself, I knew she was talking to Max, Willow’s dad. While co-parenting has been the best option for them two since Willow was a baby, I could tell that certain topics and conversations are harder for Grace to have because of her own beliefs. For me, it was hard to get her out of that head space once she’s dug herself a deep enough hole. A couple of minutes later, she comes back into the room, sighing as she put her down back on the vanity, sitting on the chair and leaned back on it.

I turned around to check on her. “Jagiya, I can finish folding these clothes—”

“No, Jamie; I have to do it,” She quickly got up from the seat and walked to the pile of clothes on the bed. She was clearly in pain when she did.

“Grace,” I sternly said, worrying about her. “Go sit back down, you’re in pain and—”

“Stop treating me like I’m disabled or something,” Grace spat back defensively. “I still can do the little things and not have someone monitoring my every move.” I sighed loudly; today was going to be one of those days. Grace is at this stage of her pregnancy where she feels like she can’t do anything right; not because she can’t, it’s because she’s nearing the end of term in a couple of weeks. She was in a lot more pain nowadays, which made her snappy and moody a lot of the times. I knew she didn’t mean it, and she would always apologize and say she’s a bad person. I simply tell her, “Maki is just tired of being cooped up in there, she’s being impatient.”

“I know this can’t be about laundry,” I said, putting the piece of clothing back down on the bed. I turned around and looked at Grace sitting back down on the chair in the room. “What’s wrong, jagiya?”

“Everything,” Grace immediately answered. “Everything on my body hurts, and I have to go to the academy tomorrow for this inspection and I already know that the place needs renovations that’s going to cost me so much money, I have to finish Maki’s room before she comes, and then after all of that, Max calls me to remind me that he’s looking to book the venue space for Willow’s birthday.”

“Oh, you guys are throwing her a birthday party at a place?” I asked.

“We’re not; he is,” she answered, crossing her arms along her chest, resting them on top of her belly. “He only called to ask me what weekend works for me so that we could attend.”

“I’m not understanding what you’re upset about, jagiya,” I said, looking at Grace. She rolled her eyes at me, knowing she hated when she needed to actually explain her feelings and emotions properly.

“He’s thrown her birthday party every single year, and I was always the one that felt like the guest instead of her mother,” Grace admitted. I sat at the end of the bed, facing Grace. “For once, I want to be a part of the process.”

“Did you tell that to Max?”

“No.”

“So he doesn’t know that you want to contribute?”

“No.”

“Jagiya,” I smiled as I leaned backwards, trying to understand the situation. “If Max doesn’t know that him solely putting together Willow’s party makes you feel this way, how do you expect him to know?”

“It should always be a known fact that both parents should plan their child’s birthday parties,” Grace explained. She paused before she said anything else, clearly feeling uncomfortable now. “I… was never around to be a part of planning process, and I guess Max thought it would always be like that.”

“Grace, if you don’t it to be that way anymore, you have to tell him,” I said, trying to reassure her while validating her feelings. “Why don’t you tell him that you want to help this year?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure, you can; you can call him back and—”

“Jamie, I can’t,” Grace emphasized, looking directly at me. She sighed before she spoke again. “The academy isn’t doing well these days.” This was the first time hearing this from her. “A lot of the dancers are choosing to opt out of their contracts, especially since the building is literally falling apart, and I know that the inspection is going to cost me a lot to keep the building running, and on top of that we still have things to do before Maki comes, and… I just don’t have the money to help with Willow’s party.”

I scrunched my brows together, feeling slightly annoyed that Grace would keep something like this from me. I know Grace has this ideology that she has to manage the academy on her own because it was a family business. She always wanted to do things on her own and didn’t let anyone persuade her for help. I knew this would be something that she would have kept to herself if she was managing it the way she wanted it to.

I don’t bring up the fact that it irks me when she does this; it would just upset her even more and although I care about Grace and her well-being, I also have to consider that if she doesn’t feel good, Maki doesn’t either. Her stress will take an even bigger toll on her body; putting Maki’s health at risk too.

“Well, let’s start making a plan,” I said, slapping my knees with my hands to confirm. Grace looked up at me with a confused look on her face.

“A plan?” She repeated.

“A plan,” I stated, looking at her intently. “The academy isn’t going anywhere, and any damages that need to be fixed will be paid for—”

“But—”

“Maki’s room is almost done,” I continued, mentally checking things off the list of Grace’s worries. “We will call the painters later this week so that they can put up the wallpaper in her room.”

“I—”

“And,” I said, speaking over Grace. “We are going to call Max and ask how we can help plan Willow’s birthday party for her.” Grace looked at me, more angry than relieved in my opinion. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting from her.

“No.”

I tilted my head, confused. “No?”

“No.” Grace didn’t say anything more to that, but she had this look on her face that turned her worries into literal anger. “Do you hear yourself?”

“What?”

“I pour out my financial problems with you and all of a sudden, you just make up this ridiculous plan?!” The alarm on the washer is heard, which makes Grace get up from her seat, storming out of the room. I quickly followed her as she walked toward the washer and dryer in our bathroom and attempted to empty the next bath of wet clothes from the washer.

“Jagiya—” I ran over to her, helping her unload the machine.

“I don’t need your help, Jamie!” She yelled out. I was completely taken off-guard hearing her yell that loud. “I’m sick and tired of everyone doing everything for me while I sit around and do absolutely nothing because I can’t!” I looked down at Grace, seeing the tears form in her eyes as she spoke. Aigoo. It’s been hard to keep Grace in a stable mood these days; between everything that’s going on and with time ticking down for Maki’s arrival, I worry that she’s been too hard on herself.

“Ya,” I sternly said with my brow scrunched together. “You are not going to try to take these heavy, wet clothes from the top washer, being almost 8 months pregnant. And before you can argue with me about that; let me remind you that the doctor already told us you shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting these days.” Grace pouted as she looked at me, which lets me know that I’m right in what I am saying. The only thing she does is storm out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. These are the type of days when the best thing to do is to let Grace take some time to herself.

…

It’s nearly 11PM, and Grace and I decided to head on over to the cafe to have yet another serious conversation. We opened the door of the cafe. Grace immediately wobbled her way to our table, not saying a word to me, or to Bernie; the cafe owner that has known Grace and I since the very beginning.

I walked up to the counter where Bernie was polishing some glasses. He smiled, placing the rag on his shoulders before walking to the register.

“You’re both in here pretty late tonight,” he mentioned, taking out a note pad from his pocket and the pen from behind his ear.

I sighed before I smiled politely. “It’s one of those nights again.” Bernie winced, nodding his head.

“Well if there’s one thing I know about you is that you’ll help Grace get through it,” Bernie stated. “I know the restrictions are killing her ability of independence.” I nodded big, as if Bernie was able to take the words right out of my mouth. “The usual?”

“For me; yes,” I said, taking out my wallet. “For Grace, a hot chocolate. And a piece of your triple fudge chocolate cake.”

“Since when does Grace like chocolate cake?”

“Oh, she doesn’t,” I said as I paid for the drinks and dessert. “Our daughter does.”

I walked back to our table, placing down my iced americano and Grace’s hot chocolate and cake. Her mean demeanor slightly softened, looking up at me.

“You have to stop feeding Maki chocolate cake,” Grace said, putting her fork into the dessert. “I won’t be able to shed the pounds once I’m ready to go back to work.”

“Jagiya,” I said in a way that made Grace look at me. She knew it wasn’t the usual way I said her nickname; this time, it was more serious. “Why didn’t you tell me about the academy?”

“The academy has nothing to do with you,” Grace answered back quickly. “The academy was something I took on, which makes it my responsibility.”

“But we are still a team. If one of us is struggling with something, we are supposed to help each other get through it.”

“The academy is my responsibility—”

“Just how you are mine,” I debated back. “Grace, I don’t do these things because I think you are incapable of doing them on your own. I do them because you are a part of my own responsibilities.”

“I’m not going to burden you with something I chose to do. I should’ve kept up the academy better knowing that Maki was coming.” Grace lets out a deep breath, holding her belly. Before I could reach out for Grace’s hand, she waved it away. “I’m okay. I’m just… feeling really stressed these days and I swear, Maki can feel when I am.” I reached out for the hand that was still placed on the table, gently squeezing it to help Grace calm down.

“One of my many responsibilities is making sure my girls are okay. Maki can’t be okay if she senses her mom is not okay.” I can see the tears forming in her eyes again, biting the bottom of her lip to hold it together. I smiled gently at her, hoping that she is listening to what I am telling her. “I just want you to tell me these things. I want you to let me help you, not because I don’t think you’re capable of doing them on your own.” I picked up her hand and leaned in to kiss it, sitting back down afterwards. “But because we are a team now.”

“It feels wrong to have you fix the academy problem though,” Grace pointed out. “The academy is the one thing that always felt like it was mine. I always know how to fix something at the academy; things are just different now because we have Maki on the way, and I am just not able to juggle everything at once anymore.”

“That’s completely normal,” I reassured her. I got up from my seat to sit in the one next to her. I could now she how she was anxiously rubbing one side of her belly. I placed my hand over hers to stop her; to calm her down. She fails to realize my sole purpose is to always make sure she feels safe, calm, and secure. She fails to realize that this is just the beginning of her being my responsibility. “I understand that the academy is like your baby in a sense. It was for a long time.” I smiled as I looked at her belly with our hands on top of it. “It’ll always be your baby, the only thing that’s different now is that I have to make sure that my jagiya is okay, no matter what it is.” She finally smiled at me, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. If there’s one thing I knew about Grace, is that it was always a good sign to see Grace drink and eat; it was always an indicator that she was feeling better.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the academy,” Grace began to say. “These last couple of months have been so scary. I feel like I haven’t had time to actually take care of the things I normally would. Things just have been hard for me.”

“I know, jagiya,” I said, kissing her temple. “You’re doing the hardest job out of the both of us, so the least I can do is help out with the other things.” Grace smirked, which was always a good sign. She sighed as she faced her body toward me, going straight into business. “Can you accompany me for the day of the inspection? Just walk around the academy with them for me?”

“Of course.”

“As for Maki’s room… maybe we can save some money and just paint the room instead of putting up the wallpaper… maybe Shawn can come over and help you paint the room for me?

“I can ask him when he’s available.”

“And, uhm,” Grace shifted nervously in her seat. It was my time to take control of the situation.

“And,” I began to say. “We will call Max tomorrow and ask how we can contribute to Willow’s birthday party.” Grace smiled, which was the only thing I needed to know for confirmation.

Shawn and Skylar have made my life a living hell ever since they discovered this sushi restaurant in the East Village.

They had invited Grace and I for dinner one night, and suggested this new restaurant they discovered. I looked at Grace with an immense amount of guilt, especially after seeing her pout looking at the menu of items, half in which she can’t eat because of the raw fish.

“I didn’t realize Grace couldn’t eat raw fish,” Skylar said as the waiter came out with our dishes. Grace had gotten the Chicken teriyaki dish while Shawn and Skylar shared a platter of different sushi rolls. I ordered an order of maki rolls and a side of rice. Grace watched me intently as I ate, making me feel slightly uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” I said, putting down my chopsticks. Grace pouted, leaning back on her chair.

“The one thing Baby is craving right now is the one thing I can’t have,” she said, looking at my dish.

“Are you sure agi is craving it, or is Eomma blaming agi for her own cravings?” I teased. Grace rolled her eyes and nudged my arm.

“I’m serious, Jamie,” Grace emphasized. “As soon as the waitress came out with your maki rolls, it was like Baby’s eyes got all googly.” She stares at my plate. “God, they look so good.”

“Willpower, jagiya,” I said, cheering her on. Grace was not amused, and started to play with the food on her plate.

“So Grace, we’re all dying to know if you guys decided on a baby name yet,” Skylar mentioned. “If not, I have one suggestion—”

“We are not naming her ‘Skylar’,” Grace deadpanned. I tried to hide my laugh. Grace was more blunt and honest about how she felt these days that I know Skylar will not understand.

“Well then what do you guys have in mind?” She questioned, crossing her arms.

“We haven’t really discussed it,” I answered for us, watching Grace try to eat her food.

“I’m surprised that wasn’t the first thing you guys did when you find out the sex,” Skylar mentioned. “If Shawn and I ever have kids, I already have some names picked out.” I looked at Shawn who looks at Skylar as if this was new information to him too.

“Inspire us,” I teased Skylar, curious to know the names of my future nieces or nephews.

“For a boy, I was thinking ‘Shawlar’,” I almost spat my drink out, not expecting that. “And for a girl: Skylawn.”

“Shawlar and Skylawn? Those both sound like names for over-the-counter medications they show on TV,” Grace commented without any remorse. I couldn’t contain the water in my mouth anymore, nearly spitting it out. Skylar’s mouth was gaped open, shocked at Grace’s answer.

“At least I have names for my hypothetical children,” Skylar defended. “You guys have a baby coming in 2 months and don’t have any idea on what you want to name it.”

“The right name needs to come to us,” I intervened before the ladies got into an argument. “We don’t want to give her a name that doesn’t suit her.”

“So you’re waiting until after she’s born to name her?” Skylar asked. “Her tiny little finger is gonna pick an index card with a name on it or something?”

“Hyung,” Shawn whispered to me, looking down at my plate. “Can I try one of your maki rolls?” I nodded yes as I put one on his plate. Grace caught the exchange happen.

“You can give him a maki roll and not me?!” Grace argued.

“Shawn’s not 7 months pregnant with our daughter, jagiya,” I said.

“Sure, whatever,” Grace dismissed, picking up her fork to eat her food. “Just deprive your daughter of what she wants.” I smiled at her, knowing Grace’s game too well.

“Minahe, agi,” I said to Grace’s belly. “When you get older, we’ll introduce you to maki rolls.” Shawn ate the roll I gave him, slapping the table in enjoyment.

“Whoa, the maki rolls here are to die for,” Shawn said. Skylar slapped him on the arm.

“Babe, be considerate,” she said, looking at Grace. I placed my hand on top of her left one, rubbing her knuckles for support and comfort.

Shawn wasn’t kidding when he said he enjoyed the maki rolls at this restaurant. Every time we had them over for a movie or a game night, he would bring the maki rolls. Every time Grace forgot about the maki rolls, she would be reminded again and crave them dangerously. I once caught her in the kitchen with one, walking in at the exact moment she was pulling one out of the container. Let’s just say that night, Grace put me on couch punishment.

One afternoon, Grace stormed into the apartment after spending the day at the academy. I sat at the table, working on my laptop.

“Jagiya—” I said as I got up from my seat to hug Grace. She pushed me back down in my seat with a force I didn’t think she had.

“Don’t jagiya me, Jamie,” Grace spat back. “We have to think of some baby names.”

“Mwo? Why the change of heart? I asked.

“I spoke to Aimee and Maurice on FaceTime and they guilt tripped me into doing this today.” Aimee and Maurice were Grace’s two closest friends from the Ulsan dance production. I was glad that she was able to maintain those friendships with them, and even offered to do a residency here to teach Grace’s academy when she goes on maternity leave. Knowing Grace pretty well, she was scared to think about something in the future that is eventually going to happen.

I laughed and closed my laptop. “Okay, let’s talk about names. First order of business: we are not combining our names the way Sky did her future children.”

“Way ahead of you on that,” Grace commented. “Before we actually sit down and suggest names, we have to set down some rules.” She takes out a little spiral notebook from her purse, flipping to a page full of scribbles. “No names after our relatives. She will have her own identity with her own name, and not a name just to say she’s named after a great-great grandmother or something.”

“I can agree with that,” I commented. “What’s next?”

“She will not be a junior.”

“We can’t name her JJ?”

“JJ?”

“Jagiya Junior,” I teased. Grace sucked her teeth as she shifted in her seat.

“I’m serious, Jamie!” Grace shouted. “She will not be Grace Jr. Again, I want her to have her own identity.”

“May I also add a rule?” I asked, hoping Grace was open to some suggestions. “She must have an English and Korean name.” Grace cocked her eyebrow up, pondering on the thought.

“I mean, she’ll be born in America, so wouldn’t her name already be in English?”

“That’s up for us to decide,” I answered. “Do we want her legal name to be in English, or Korean?”

“Fuck, I didn’t think of that,” Grace gave herself a face palm. “Clearly it would make sense for her to have a Korean name too. How did you pick ‘Jamie’ as your English name?”

“It sounds the closest to Jaemin,” I answered. “I decided a name that wasn’t so far off my Korean name.” Grace sighed, tapping her pen against the notebook.

“God, this is hard,” she said.

“How did you come up with Willow’s name?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Her dad named her,” Grace admitted. “There was a Willow tree growing in the backyard of his apartment complex, and it had fully bloomed around the time Willow was born. He decided on Willow because her and the tree practically grew together in the course of 9 months.” I smiled. That’s a beautiful story.

“Agi’s name will come to us when the time is right,” I reassured, taking out the bag of food I took home from lunch with Shawn. I opened the box of leftover maki rolls, which caught Grace’s attention. She takes in a deep breath, trying to keep her composure.

“I’m going to fight Shawn once Baby is out,” Grace commented. “I don’t understand his obsession with those maki rolls…” Grace leans in, smelling my food. “God, it smells so good; Baby is going crazy for some maki rolls.”

“We’re gonna call her Maki agi, since she only seems to go crazy when maki rolls are in the room.” I rubbed Grace’s belly, and in a singalong tune I sing ‘Maki agi”. It was cute in the way they rhymed.

…

“Alright class, how would you interpret public law, section 46.3 for a client that is fighting a personal injury case?” I lectured for my online class. In the downtime I am not active on a case, I teach part-time at the CUNY School of Law, preferably students who are looking to continue their studies to become lawyers. It was a change of pace for me, and it felt good being able to take what I know and teach the next generation of lawyers, all while still being one myself.

“The door to the bedroom opened, and in ran Grace. “Oh my god, I figured it out!” She excitingly said out loud. She immediately covered her mouth with her hands once she saw I was in an online lecture this particular Saturday afternoon. I looked back to my class online, laughing nervously.

“I’m going to have you read the next two pages, and we will come back together to discuss,” I said. “I will be back in 10 minutes.” I tuned off my microphone and camera, turning my chair toward Grace. “Is there something I should be worried about?”

“No, no; come see me after your lecture!” Grace power walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. I shook my head and laughed before I got myself together to go back to the lecture.

…

Grace insisted that we go to the cafe for this conversation. Something told me it was a serious conversation, which made me nervous. There are so many conversations Grace and I have left to discuss, and I wasn’t sure which one she wanted to have today.

I ordered my usual iced americano as she ordered a homemade iced tea. Grace ordered 4 different cookies, and ended up not eating them all. Agi always made Grace crave and want a ridiculous amount of food that usually ends up going to waste. This time, I was left finishing the 4 cookies she bought, nearly sending myself into a diabetic shock.

“So, I’ve done some thinking and took into consideration of our rules, and I think I have a contender for her name.” Oh, this conversation.

“Yeah?” I said, sipping on my iced americano.

“I couldn’t get that stupid song that you sang the other day out of my head,” Grace began to explain. “It was the perfect song to fill the room with noise. So there I was, sitting in the baby’s nursery folding up some clothes we got the other day, singing the Maki agi song.

“The maki agi song?”

“Maki agi, agi Maki,” Grace began to sing. “That song.”

“Is this another attempt to have a maki roll, jagiya?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“No, no,” Grace waved her hand. “But I noticed every time I sang the song, she would go crazy.” Grace forcefully grabbed by hand, placing it on top of her belly. “Sing it.”

“Me?” I asked. She nodded her head.

“Just do it,” Grace commanded. I sighed, beginning to sing the maki agi song that wasn’t a song to begin with. But, Grace was right; agi was very excited whenever I sang the song. “It’s like she’s listening to us.”

“I’m having a hard time understanding how this relates to naming our daughter. Are you saying we name her Maki agi?”

“No,” Grace answered. “Maki.” Maki?

“Maki?” I questioned. “You want to name our daughter after a type of sushi roll?”

“Hear me out,” Grace said, palms faced down on the table. “I truly think she hears you when you call her agi. The fact that Maki sounds so close to agi, I think she chose her own name.” It was sweet hearing Grace’s theory that agi hears me call her that.

“I have to play devil’s advocate,” I began to say. “How does ‘Maki’ tick off the rule that she must also have an English name?”

“I knew you’d ask that.” Grace took one of the napkins from the cafe table, writing ‘Maki’ in Hangul. “The spelling of her name in Hangul has somewhat of a ‘g’ sounding ‘k’,” she explained. I was impressed at Grace’s growing knowledge of the Korean language and alphabet. She’s really come a long away since we first met all those years ago. “So, her name would sound like ‘Ma-gi’.”

It sounds a lot like Maggie,” I said. Grace pointed at me as if I discovered the meaning of the unknown.

“Yes! Her English name would be Maggie.” I pondered the thought, thinking about our daughter as a Maki.

“Kim Ma-ki,” I said out loud. “Maggie Kim.” I imagined hearing her name being called at her Kindergarten graduation. I imagined teaching her how to write her name. I imagined calling her for dinner, introducing her to the family by her name for the first time. I imagined now calling agi by her name now, giving her an identity way before she arrives.

“Isn’t it cute?” Grace said excitedly. It was cute to see Grace all giddy about this process. It was one of the few times she seemed to enjoy this pregnancy; something she had missed when having Willow. I smiled at her, looking at agi’s potential name.

“I’m glad you and agi had this revelation, but,” I looked at Grace, hating that I was about to burst her bubble. “Maki is a popular name in Japan.” Ugh, I can see her world crashing down.

“It’s not Korean?!” Grace said, heartbroken. “Oh my God…”

“Jagiya,” I reached out and went to give Grace a hug. Her hormones have been at an all-time high for this last trimester. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I just thought I had her name all figured out,” Grace said, wiping through tears. “She had reacted so clearly to it… I just thought for once I was on the right path.” I placed my hand on her belly, making small circles on it for reassurance.

“Maki“, I gently said, looking down at Grace’s stomach. Agi quickly kicked underneath my hand, as if she was responding to her name already. Grace was right.

“We can’t go against her wishes,” I said, looking up at Grace. “This is the name she has chosen for herself.” Grace widened her eyes and smiled big, looking down at her belly.

“Hi, Maki,” Grace said to agi. I never thought seeing Grace talk to our daughter would give me butterflies like this. I can see just how much this means to her. This was her second chance to a life she couldn’t have before, and she basked in every moment this time around. She looked up at me and smiled. “I think her legal name should be Maki; her English name Maggie.”

“I like the sound of that,” I agreed.

…

Grace and I met Shawn and Skylar at the sushi restaurant for dinner one night. Grace took a deep breath as we walked in, finding our table where Shawn and Skylar were.

“Hey, guys,” I greeted the couple; Grace went in for a hug with her cousin. I pulled out Grace’s chair for her and settled down into our seats. “You guys are obsessed with this place.”

“Not we, him,” Skylar said, pointing at Shawn.

“Listen, the food here is delicious,” Shawn debated. “You don’t find good Asian restaurants in the city anymore–“

“Oh, you haven’t been to Flushing yet,” I said. “It’s New York’s Koreatown. Maybe we can go there some time and bring the ladies some goodies.” The waiter comes by our table, handing us menus. Shawn declines the menu.

“I already know what I want,” he said. Skylar rolls her eyes.

“Oh God,” Skylar sighed, hiding her embarrassment. And there it is: the con being Shawn’s wife.

“I would like 3 orders of the maki rolls,” Shawn stated. Skylar ordered the miso soup and gyoza special, while I got the chicken teriyaki in support of Grace.

“Speaking of maki rolls,” I started to say, looking at Grace.

“Don’t tell me you caved in, Jamie,” Skylar said, scolding me. “I know how persuasive Grace can be.”

“Uhm, rude!” Grace commented. I laughed, placing my hand on Grace’s leg.

“Grace and I finally decided on a name,” I began to say. Skylar’s eyes lit up, immediately shifting her mood from embarrassment to excitement.

“Oh my god, really?!” Skylar squealed. “Tell us the entire story.”

“Well, Grace had walked in during one of my lectures, excited to share a revelation she had in the nursery,” I began to explain, smiling in Grace’s direction.

“Well, let me rewind back a bit,” Grace added. “Your husband could not stop bringing over those damn maki rolls from this place, which—by the way, Shawn— we’re totally fighting after she’s born.” Shawn’s face turned red as I laughed.

“Back to Grace walking in,” I continued. “So, after my lecture, Grace insisted that it was actually the baby craving the maki rolls, not her.” Grace rolled her eyes as I recalled the story. “So, I had made up this silly song, calling the baby ‘Maki agi’.” Skylar looked over at Shawn, obviously for a translation.

“Agi means ‘baby’ in Korean, so ‘Maki Baby”, Shawn explained.

“Baby went crazy every time we’d sing that,” Grace continued on. And then it suddenly clicked to me. Maki should be her name.” Skylar slammed her hands on the tabletop out of excitement.

“Wait, that’s actually so fucking cute!” Skylar said with a huge smile on her face. Grace nodded, agreeing with her.

“One thing we also wanted was that she have an English name,” I further explained.

“Ah, that’s a good move,” Shawn commented.

“We saw how similar ‘Maki’ in Korean sounded a lot like ‘Ma-gi’, so we decided her English name—”

“Would be Maggie?!” Skylar said excitedly. “Stop, wait that is actually such a good fucking name.” Skylar gets up from her seat, nearly in tears as she hugged Grace. “Grace, stop; I’m so happy for you!”

“Sky,” Grace said, trying to hold back tears. Skylar walks to me, also pulling me into a hug.

“Baby Maki,” Shawn repeated. “I guess she also understood Uncle Shawn’s obsession with the maki rolls, so in a way I did you guys a favor.”

“You’re not off the hook,” Grace noted. “We’re still fighting once after Maki is born.” After Maki is born.

…

It was a rainy, April day in the city. I got out of work at 5 o’clock and told Grace I would bring home dinner. She insisted we could have anything I wanted to get, until I sighed.

“Jagiya,” I began to say. “Let me word it this way: what is Maki wanting to eat tonight?”

“She’s feeling birria tacos,” Grace said over the phone. “Oh! And a Mexican cola.” Grace had realized that she could get anything she wanted by saying Maki wanted it. I couldn’t say no to my little girl just yet… only when she’s asking for a nose piercing or tattoo when she gets older. I smiled through the phone, stopping in front of a shop.

“I’ll pick up some tacos for you and Maki,” I said with a smile. “I’ll see you in a few.” I hung up the phone and entered a brightly lit shop on 5th Avenue. I let out a sigh, walking up to the counter.

“Hello,” I greeted the person behind the glass counter. “I called about the engagement ring.”

I lost count on how many cups of coffee I had today, but Grace reminded me just how shaky my hands have become throughout the duration of our busy morning.

“Jamie,” Grace sighed as she said my name. “You are not allowed to make yourself another coffee. You’re not about to have me up all night because you can’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry, jagiya,” I said, watching Grace open the fridge and hand me a water bottle. “I’m just feeling a little nervous having my family in America all together for the first time.” My relationship with my family shifted once I made the decision to live in New York. They weren’t thrilled that I was adamant about starting my life over in a foreign country with a girl they’ve met once. Surely as time passed, we were all able to let it go, especially after telling them the news about agi.

“What time are they landing?” Grace asked.

“Their flight says arrival is 6:15pm,” I answered, looking at the information on my phone. “We should probably make it to JFK an hour before.”

“Ya,” Grace said, walking over to me and brushed my hair away from my face. “You know everything is going to be fine, right?”

“I know, but you never know with my family,” I said, letting out an anxious breath. “My family is super traditional, and trying to explain our relationship to them is nearly impossible for them to understand.”

“They don’t have to understand it, they just need to accept it,” Grace replied sternly, trying to prove her point. Grace was never the “cookie-cutter” type of comforter, and will tell you exactly how she feels about something.

She sighed, walking up to me and placed her hand on my cheek. “I mean that in the nicest way possible, babe. I don’t want her to grow up not knowing her entire family.” The past couple of weeks since we found out agi was a girl, Grace has been determined to give our daughter a life she didn’t get to have growing up. She missed out on knowing her mother’s side of the family, and I can only imagine she feels anxious that agi won’t know my side.

“She will.” I wrapped my arms around her, taking her in for a hug. Maybe Grace was right. Maybe I didn’t have anything to worry about, and it was all in my head. But I can’t help but wonder, what if I’m right? What if my family is upset at me still for moving to America? Is there anything that will change their mind about things?

…

“We’re so happy to see you!” My mom immediately walks to Grace for a hug. Even Grace was shocked at the gesture. She returns the hug, putting on a smile. My mom let Grace go to look at Grace’s belly. “How are you feeling?” I watch the interaction happen, feeling like I’m currently in the twilight zone. My mom and grace were actually having a conversation in Korean in our New York apartment.

“Eomma couldn’t stop talking about coming here,” my sister, Lia, said to me. I looked over at Mina, coming into the door with my mother’s bags.

“Jaemin,” Mina called out. I went to the front door, helping her with the bags. She smiled at me once she got situated. “Hi, baby brother!”

“Hi, nonna,” I said, giving her a hug. “I’m glad you and Lia could make it.”

“Of course we were coming,” Mina stated. “We have to come visit before our niece comes!” Lia and Mina walked over to Grace, giving her hugs. It made me smile seeing my family like Grace, considering this wasn’t the attitude they had a year and a half ago. Maybe I was overreacting over nothing—

Or maybe I just knew there was always some hidden conversation waiting to happen.

“Grace, this is delicious,” Mina said, wiping her face with her napkin.

“Actually, Jamie did all of the cooking,” she mentioned. In the corner of my eyes, I saw my mother’s expression change as she ate. “I was just moral support.” Grace started to laugh, but my family looked more confused. Grace clears her throat and wipes her mouth. “Let me take those dishes from you—”

“Ani,” my mother shook her head, stopping Grace. “You will not lift a finger in your condition. Jaemin,” she calls for me. “Help me with the dishes.”

“Eomma, we’ll do it—“ my sisters volunteered, but my mother protested.

“Jaemin will help me,” my mom smiled in my direction, prompting me to get up from my seat.

“I’ll be back, jagiya,” I said to Grace as I kissed the top of her head. I took the plates from the other women at the table, while my mother insisted she take the garnish dishes back to the kitchen.

“So, Jaemin,” my mom said as she cleaned the dishes. I insisted we use the dishwasher, but like my mom, she immediately protested. “How far along is Grace?”

“A little over 6 months now,” I answered, drying the wet dishes with a cloth. My mom gasped in awe.

“Ya, Jaemin,” my mom reacted. “Are there any plans of a marriage soon?” Here we go; the conversation I knew I was going to have with my mother. “The baby will be here before you know it—”

“Eomma,” I sighed. “Grace and I have other things to focus on right now.”

“And you think once you bring a baby into this world, you guys will have time to think about marriage? A newborn baby consumes your life, Jaemin.”

“And you think rushing a marriage is the conventional thing to do?” I asked. I mom scolded me for talking to her in such tone.

“You both should’ve got married before you two decided to have a baby,” my mom nonchalantly expressed. “Your father would’ve wanted you to be married before having a child.” I hated when my mom’s guilt card was mentioning my father. There was a lot that my father wanted me to do instead of the things I’ve done, constantly showing that I was never interested in living my life the way he wanted me to. In the same breath, he would’ve wanted me to find my way of life in the best way I knew possible.

“Wouldn’t appa be happy that I am starting a family though?” I questioned. My mom side-eyed me, continuing to wash the dishes. “That I am carrying the Kim family name?”

“With a woman that is not your wife—”

“She will be,” I spat back, revealing something I wouldn’t have in front of my mother. “We are both aren’t ready yet.”

“I really do like Grace,” my mom started to say. “I do believe she’s a great woman, but I do not like the fact that you’ve thrown all of your culture away to fit into this American one. My son would’ve stayed in Korea and settled down with a woman that had the same values as you. My son would’ve been married with children already. My son would instill his culture into his family, to carry out our family traditions for generations to come.”

“But that was never your son.” I emphasized, looking directly at my mother. “Your son wanted more outside of Korea. Your son wanted to make a name for himself professionally. Your son always knew that he would live a life that wasn’t conventional. Your son fell in love and found home with a woman in New York.” I slightly open the covering of the island, showing my mom Grace and my sisters laughing together on the couch. “All she wants is for our baby to know all of her family.” My mom looked out at her daughters, looking at them talking to each other comfortably. Even seeing Grace let go of the misconceptions she had about herself and my family for the sake or our daughter, there wasn’t any doubt that Grace will be my wife someday.

My mom turns around and sighs, looking up at me. She places her hand on my cheek, smiling at me. “Something you and your father had in common was your stubbornness.” I smiled as my mom laughed. “And the way his heart was always in the right place for the ones he loved.” Shortly after, Grace walked into the kitchen, carrying some glasses from the dinner table.

“Ah, jagiya,” I said as I walked toward grace, grabbing the glasses from her. “We were going to come back for the other things.”

“She’s ready for some dessert though,” Grace said, rubbing her belly. My mom walked to Grace with a smile, placing a hand on Grace’s belly.

“Eomma,” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed. Grace didn’t seem to mind it, smiling as my mom shushed me.

“Halmeoni is excited to meet you,” my mom said to agi, looking up at Grace and smiled.

…

Later that night, Grace and I lie in bed together. Grace was watching her weekly reality TV show, while I worked on some paperwork for my next lecture. I looked over at her, laughing at the drama happening on the reality show, relaxing in her element. I don’t know why all of a sudden I think about my father and wonder if he would be happy for me. All he ever wanted for his son was to live a happy life, whatever that looked like for me. He always knew I would be different than his daughters, and he knew that once he left this world all those years ago, he left his legacy in my hands. A part of him lives on through me. I grew up watching my parents smitten for each other. My father would look at my mom with such loving eyes, something I took for granted when he was alive, but vividly remember as I now look at Grace that way.

“Oh,” Grace said out loud, as if she remembered something. “Mina and Lia and your mom are going to go to a Broadway show this weekend!” She reaches over her nightstand, taking out the tickets. “I was going to surprise your mom at her birthday dinner tomorrow night.”

“When did you get those?” I said, genuinely curious.

“Not too long ago,” Grace answered. “My aunt Mars is one of the actresses in The Lion King and was able to give me a deal for the matinee show this Saturday. I tried to get tickets for a different time, but this was the only one she could get.” I smile at Grace, reassuring her that she didn’t need to feel bad for going the same time as my next lecture.

“My family will love it,” I said, kissing Grace on the forehead. “Thank you for accepting my family, jagiya.”

“I kinda have to,” Grace teased, laughing after she rubbed her belly. “But, I know what you meant. Her show starts back up, and Grace immediately glued her eyes back to the screen.

My father gave me the “love” conversation once in my life. I was now an adult, and he sat me down over coffee at a shop near the firm I used to work at in Korea.

“You will know when the time is right,” he said, sipping his coffee. “When you feel like the pieces are falling in place, fitting to create an overall picture.”

“Appa, I don’t know,” I said nervously. “In this line of work, it’s hard to have the time needed to settle down…I barely even see Seohyun these days because of school…”

“I’m not saying you have to figure it out now,” he emphasized. “I’m just letting you know, for your future self when they are ready to hit that milestone in life.”

“Ya,” I dismissed, never realizing that would be one of the last times we ever spoke about the future.

I looked at Grace, eating her current craving of Cool Ranch Doritos while watching TV. She looked over at me. “What?” She asked. I smiled, putting my hand in her family size bag of chips.

“Nothing,” I said, grabbing a handful of chips from Grace. “Are they really leaving the villa tonight?” Grace turned her head, about to explode in reality show gossip with me. These were the right times that my father spoke about.