Becoming Who We Are Ch. 06

"Afraid he was coming with us?" Mark asked slyly.

"A little," she admitted.

They laughed at the same time.

"So where are we going?" she asked, looking at the rowhouses and trees.

"Well, I do hate being cooped up on a such a nice day, so I thought a long walk first, then back to my house for a little while. Is that all right with you?"

She nodded.

"Sounds like a plan."

They walked in silence for a block, enjoying the buildings and the crisp clean clouds in the brilliant blue sky. Near the end of the block, he matched his arm's swinging to hers, and managed to capture her hand. She smiled and gave his hand a little squeeze as they wended their way toward the college.

"One thing that amazes me about cities, even cities this size, is how they can change so suddenly in just one block," Melina said as they crossed the street and left the rowhouses behind him. Now the homes stood on their own wide lots, with plenty of trees and grass between them and the sidewalk.

Mark nodded.

"New York's like that."

"That must have been a great place to live. How come your family moved?"

Mark pursed his lips, then sighed.

"My parents had a restaurant up there. One night last winter, we were closing up -- well, actually, my dad was closing up. I was back in the kitchen -- and this guy came in just as my father was getting ready to lock the front door. We had seen him before -- he used to order chow mein and egg rolls and that kind of American stuff, and you do get to know people after a while. So my dad let him come in, thinking maybe he had a late order. Well, he didn't have an order, and he did have a gun."

"You're kidding me!"

"Wish I were. Anyway, to make a long story longer, my dad had already put away most of the take -- he had just enough to start the cash drawer for the next day."

"Start the cash drawer?"

"Yeah. Um, haven't you worked retail or fast food or anything?"

"No. My parents won't let me. I'm supposed to study and get a scholarship."

"I know the feeling! Well, to start a drawer, you put in whatever amount of cash you think you'll need the next day to make change for the first few customers. They all seem to pay for a five-dollar tab with a twenty-dollar bill," he said, sidetracking for a moment. "I don't know why. Anyway, it's pretty awkward not to be able to make change, so you have to have some low bills and coins for starter money. That way, you can make change. At some places, it's fifty bucks, at other places, it's a hundred."

"Oh. Okay." She gestured for him to continue.

"So this guy comes in, pulls a gun and demands the money we've made for the night, which my dad doesn't have because he already sent my mother to the bank's night deposit with the two biggest guys from the kitchen. So he hands over the starter money: a hundred bucks in tens, fives, ones, quarters and dimes. This annoys the guy. Greatly."

"Uh huh."

"He starts waving the gun around, threatening my dad if he doesn't come up with more money. Then he notices all of us watching through the kitchen door. He swings around and points the gun at us. We drop to the floor, and a good thing, too, because he shoots at us."

"Good Lord!" Melina cried, aghast.

"Well, he didn't hit any of us, but he did scare the hell out of us. The next thing we hear is him yelling at my dad and my dad telling him to take the money. Then we hear another shot and a big thud as my dad hits the floor. Then we hear the guy swear and the door slam. Lee -- he's my dad's second-in-command -- gets up and runs out to my dad. He screams that my dad's been shot and call nine-one-one."

"That's awful. How badly was your dad hurt?"

"Well, it looked just terrible. Blood everywhere, my dad moaning, then my mother screaming when she and the kitchen guys walk into the middle of this mess. But the doctors said my dad was really lucky. The bullet missed all the arteries and veins and organs and everything. An inch lower, and it might have been all over. But in the end, he was okay."

Melina heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank God!"

"Yeah. After that, they decided to sell and move here, where there's a lower crime rate and everything."

"What happened to the guy?"

"We're still waiting for his trial date," Mark said, disgust coloring his tone. "My dad is supposed to go up and testify next month, but the guy's lawyers may change it again. They've already delayed it once."

They continued scrunching through the leaves and thinking.

"Your dad must be in good shape," she remarked. "Being shot's pretty traumatic."

"Yeah, well, he does his tai chi and he's a pretty strong guy anyway," Mark said. "To tell you the truth, I think it actually affected my mother more. She was the one who made him sell and move down here. He wanted to stay there, on the 'lightning never strikes twice' theory. But she put her foot down, and when my mom puts her foot down, you'd better not be under it. My dad pretty much does whatever she says."

"So she's, um, a strong-willed person?" Melina asked, trying to be tactful.

"She's a bitch on wheels sometimes," Mark said after a long pause. "She didn't used to be, when we were little, but since my brother died, she's just gotten worse and worse. She's not so bad to Mary and me, but she can be cruel to Luke."

"How come?"

"He lived," Mark said simply. "Kind of like that movie, Ordinary People, come to think of it."

"You mean the book?"

"Was it a book, too?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well, the point is she can't forgive him for living when her favorite son died. I hate to say it, but I really do think she wishes Luke had died instead of John. I mean, she practically said so a couple of Sundays ago."

"Poor Luke."

He sighed.

"I don't know why I didn't see it before, and now that I see it, I can't believe I missed it for so long." He paused again. "I wish I could do something about it."

"I thought you told me you stick up for Luke now."

"I try to, but I can't help but feel like I could do more."

Melina stopped and pulled Mark to a halt as well.

"Look," she said in a tone that suggested he'd better listen up. "Do you feel guilty because your mom favors you over him?"

"Uh," Mark said, extremely uncomfortable by this turn in the conversation. He searched for words, and could only blurt out one: "Yeah."

"All right then. What would happen if you talked to your mom about it?"

"She'd deny there was a problem."

"But there is a problem. You said so."

"Yeah..."

"And you don't think she's interested in doing anything about it?"

"No."

"How about your father? Can you talk to him?"

"Not really. He'd say not to worry about my brother, that it's not my business."

"Hmm." She thought for a moment, then gave a decisive nod.

"So that leaves you and Luke. What does he say about it?"

"You know," Mark said, "you're awfully bossy sometimes, aren't you?"

"Yes," Melina answered. "And I'm also awfully observant sometimes, too. For instance, I've noticed that you're changing the subject."

"I don't want to talk about it," Mark muttered.

"Look," she repeated. "This bothers you a lot, doesn't it?"

He nodded.

"So why not talk about it and get everything out in the open? It seems to me that you've been holding everything inside for so long, you're about to erupt or something."

"It's too personal."

"Too personal?" she said in disbelief. "You kiss me like you're about to drag me off to some cave somewhere, and I'm being too personal?"

"It's not the same thing."

"It is too! Look, pal, you can't have one kind of ... of intimacy without expecting other kinds, too."

They walked in mutually sullen silence for a minute or two before Melina spoke again.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm crazy about you," she said, touching his arm. "I can see this really bugs you, and I want to help make things better."

Something clicked inside Mark's brain. He blinked once or twice, then drew her into a big hug.

"Sorry I was a jerk. It's just, getting things out in the open is not how we deal with problems in my family."

"Mine either, until a couple of years ago. Then my dad read this book, and he got my mom to read it, and everything changed."

"What book?"

"I can't remember the title, but it was about taking responsibility for your own behavior and through that, influencing others and, like, bringing out the best in them. In fact, that bit about the pause button you were talking about during the martial arts lesson? That was in there."

"Oh." Mark perked up. This sounded like his sort of book.

"I wasn't too thrilled about all this at first, and I kind of resisted for a while, but it really seems to work if you let it. My parents and I get along way better than we used to."

"There was a time when you didn't?" Mark wasn't sure he believed this.

"Sure. I used to hate my dad for moving us around so much and always treating us like privates in his own little army. In fact, I was not too happy when we had to move here, and I did act like a brat for a while. But both my parents kept listening to me and showing me they cared about me -- which my dad never used to do -- and then I started making friends, and everything got a lot better. And last night was the best of all."

She gave his shoulder a little squeeze and he put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"It was great for me, too."

"So," she said. "Now that we have that cleared up, what does Luke say?"

He chuckled.

"The girl never quits, does she?"

"Never. It comes from being a West Point grad's daughter."

"Is that where you get it? I figured it was your own killer instinct. Anyway, Luke doesn't really say much of anything lately except yes and no. He knows our mom wishes he had died instead of John, and he shouted that one at her during an argument. But mostly he just takes the abuse and doesn't stand up for himself. But that's typical. I don't think he's ever stood up to a bully."

He realized what he had just said and stopped talking. Was his mother a bully? She certainly got her way all the time; and no one could deny that she picked on Luke.

"Why do you think he won't stand up for himself?" Melina was asking.

"He just says people should respect him, and he shouldn't have to fight them for the respect he deserves."

"But you can't be a doormat and not expect people to wipe their feet on you."

"Exactly," Mark said. "I've told him that plenty of times. But he won't listen. It's like he's had all the spirit knocked out of him since John died."

"What was John like?" Melina asked after a respectful pause.

"John?" Mark cocked his head as he thought. "John was pretty much the perfect Chinese son. Very smart, good at athletics, made friends easily. The kind of guy you'd love to hate, except you couldn't help liking him."

"He sounds like the perfect son, period. Was there anything he wasn't good at?"

"Hmm. He never was all that good at spelling or languages. I think he and Luke were what's called mirror image twins, where one's right handed and the other's left handed, and one's naturally good at math and science, and the other one's really verbal and artistic."

"So Luke's the artistic one?"

"I guess so. I mean, he hasn't done any drawing or painting since we were little kids, but he was always good at that kind of stuff."

"And your parents don't want him to be?"

"My parents want him to be John."

"But he isn't. Why can't they deal with that?"

"Don't know."

By now, they had reached the campus and were strolling across an otherwise empty playing field. Melina thought for a minute.

"Does Luke want to be John, or does he feel like he has to become John? Like the kid in Ordinary People?"

"I don't think so. I think he just wants to be left alone to do what he does best."

He sighed. "Can we talk about something else now?"

"Sure. What?"

"Well ... you've already brought it up, and since we're already being serious, well, what about last night? Do you want to go out again?"

"You have to ask? Of course I do."

"Well," and he hesitated, "why?"

"Because I think you're a great guy. You're smart and sweet and everything I ever wanted in a guy."

"What about Pete?"

"Oh, him." She waved a dismissive hand. "Well, let's just say that wasn't meant to be. Tracy may be a nut case, but she's not necessarily all wrong about him."

"Meaning?"

"I did a little asking around. Everyone said he has a tendency to go through girlfriends like people with hay fever go through tissues. I don't like the thought of being treated like a, a disposable commodity."

"Disposable commodity?"

"Yeah. We learned about those in economics last year."

"Oh. You do come out with some interesting phrases. That's one reason I like you. I never know what you'll do or say next."

She beamed.

"Thanks. Anyway, to bring the Pete Hess chapter to a close, I still like him, and we'll probably be friends one day. But I definitely don't want to be his girlfriend."

"Just as well. Did you see him at Homecoming?"

"No! Was he there?"

"Yeah, but he left not too long after we got there."

"Was he with someone?"

"I think it was that clarinet player, Felicia."

Melina exhaled.

"That's okay. She won't let him take advantage of her. She knows him too well."

"Jealous?" he asked teasingly.

She shook her head.

"Not really. I hope they had a good time. Not as good a time as we had, mind you, but a good time."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"So what's next?" she asked.

"You mean, for us?"

"Yeah."

"What do you want?"

"Well, it seems to me we've had one very successful date. Agree?"

"Fervently."

"And before that, we had a very successful friendship. Agree?"

"Vehemently."

"So, vocabulary boy, it seems the next logical step is to decide if we want to: a. spend some more time getting to know each other and go out again; b. not go out again, but continue being friends; or c. I don't know what c. is, but I'm sure there is one."

"The only other alternative I can think of is to not ever see each other again. Which I don't really regard as a real option."

"Me either."

"Let's vote. If you favor option a, kiss me. If you'd prefer option b, sock me in the shoulder and tell me what a great pal I am."

"Like there's any question," Melina said. She leaned forward and lightly kissed him on the lips.

"That's settled then," Mark said.

"The only other question is what we tell other people. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Good friends? Just going out? Or what?"

"You have a tendency to make things complex, don't you?"

"It goes hand in hand with my incredible bossiness."

They both laughed.

"What do you think?" he asked.

She considered this.

"I think for now, we're going out. I think maybe it's too soon for the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. That sounds pretty serious."

"Okay. One question."

"What?"

"Do I still get to kiss you at every opportunity?"

Melina sighed.

"How did I ever hook up with a such a dummy? Of course you do. In fact, you ought to right now."

Around five, they headed back to his house. Mark felt torn between pride in his not-quite girlfriend, and anxiety that his mother would say something embarrassing. His spirits rose as he realized his mother would soon leave for the restaurant, so the window of opportunity for disaster looked fairly small.

They walked in through the back door and into the kitchen, where they found Mrs. Tang assembling a casserole for her children's dinner. She gave Melina a sharp look even as the girl smiled at her.

"Mom, this is Melina," Mark said.

In an instant, Mrs. Tang's expression changed from disapproval to welcome.

"Hello, Melina," she said. "Mark's told me a lot about you. You must be a very special young lady."

If Mrs. Tang had spent hours devising a remark less likely to make a guest feel at ease, she could not have found a better one. Melina hesitated a bit before responding.

"Thanks," she said. "He's told me a lot about you, too."

"All good, I hope," the woman said. Mark picked up a faint edge to her tone.

"You sound like a very interesting person," Melina said. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

"Oh. Well, that's very nice of you, Melissa."

"Melina," Mark corrected her.

"Sorry," Mrs. Tang said. "It's not a very common name. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard it before."

"Probably the most famous Melina was a character in a James Bond film in the eighties. That was after I was born, though."

An awkward pause settled over the threesome.

"So did you have a nice time with Mark last night?"

"Absolutely. You have a terrific son, Mrs. Tang."

"He's a good kid," Mrs. Tang said. "He makes us all proud."

"I really like Luke, too," Melina continued.

Mrs. Tang stiffened.

"How do you know him?"

"Mark and Luke and I walk to school together most days," Melina said, yielding to her impulse to see how far she could push this. "Luke's really smart, and sweet, too. I don't have a big brother, but if I did, I'd like one like Mark's."

"Really?" Mrs. Tang said faintly.

"Sure. He's terrific. I like him a lot."

This praise left Mrs. Tang, and Mark, unsure as to how to proceed.

"So what's that you're making?" Melina said, changing the subject smoothly. "It looks good."

"What? Oh, this. An Italian chicken kind of thing. My mother used to make it." She glanced at her watch and took back the reins of the conversation. "Well, I've got to be off soon. How long were you planning to stay?"

"Not too long," Melina said. "My dad wants me home by six."

"Oh, that's all right, then," Mrs. Tang said, placing the casserole on the oven rack. "Normally, the children aren't allowed to have friends over when we're not here, but I can't imagine you'll find much trouble to get into in half an hour. Mark, this needs to come out when Melina leaves. Make some snow peas or green beans to go with it."

"Okay," Mark said.

"Nice to see you again," Mrs. Tang said to Melina.

"Thanks."

Mrs. Tang trotted up the stairs to fetch her purse and put on her blazer. That girl had some nerve talking about how "smart" and "sweet" Luke was, she thought angrily. Luke was nothing of the kind. She would have to discourage Mark's interest in this one.

As she fussed with her keys and coat at the front door, Mark asked, "So what did you and Dad decide?"

"Decide?"

"About the guy in the picture."

"Oh. That. We probably won't press charges. It's been so long since Mary was attacked, we're worried they won't believe her now. Besides, one pending court case is more than enough. We really don't need any more trouble."

"Oh," Mark said. "Okay. Well, see you later."

"All right," Mrs. Tang said. She lowered her voice. "See that Melina gets home on time. I wouldn't want her to be late."

Mark shook his head at the door as it closed behind his mother. She really didn't tell lies very convincingly. He knew all too well why she wanted Melina out of the house.