They went to the food court and ordered a big table of dishes. There was spicy rice cake, fried dumplings, a pot of kimchi stew, crispy chicken and a plate of cold noodles. Her mom insisted Seo-yeon try everything. Her dad kept pushing plates toward her, and every time she finished one, he slid another across the table.
"Daddy, I can't eat all of this."
"You're eating for three now."
"I'm eating for two babies, and I'm still one person."
"Eat," he said, and put a dumpling on her plate.
For an hour, the three of them sat together and talked about names, nurseries and what the babies might look like.
"I hope they have your eyes," her mom said.
"I hope they have her smile," her dad said, and then looked embarrassed that he had said it out loud.
"What about names?" her mom asked. "I like Min-seo for a girl."
"Too common," her dad said.
"Then you suggest one."
He thought for a long time. "Princess," he said.
"You can't name a baby Princess."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not a name, it's a title."
"It's a perfectly good title," he said, and Seo-yeon laughed so hard she had to put down her spoon.
When she had caught her breath, she took a sip of water and put her hands on the table.
"Mom, Daddy," she said. "I've been thinking about quitting my job."
Her mom looked up, but it was her dad who answered first.
"It's about time," he said.
"Daddy..."
"I never liked it. You're my princess. I never wanted you to lift a finger." He set down his cup. "Working overtime, taking orders from some boss, coming home late. I didn't want that for you. But you were the one who got angry and walked out of this house. You said you wanted to be an independent lady, and you wouldn't listen to..."
He stopped. Seo-yeon's smile had faded, and she was looking down at the table.
Her mom tapped his arm hard. "What are you doing? Are you trying to make my daughter sad?"
"I only meant..."
"We aren't talking about that anymore. Forget it. That's the past." She turned to Seo-yeon and squeezed her hand. "I'm talking about my baby. We're talking about her quitting so she can put all her time and energy into herself and the babies. Not about you digging up old arguments and making her feel bad." She pointed her chopsticks at him. "If you do that again, you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."
Her dad smiled weakly. "Honey, I never said that. I only meant that I never wanted my princess to work. And now that she's carrying our grandchildren, she definitely shouldn't."
"Then say it like that," her mom said.
"I will."
Seo-yeon wiped her eyes. "It's okay, Mom. He's right. I was stubborn."
"You were," her dad admitted.
"Daddy."
"But I understand why," he added quietly. "And I'm proud of you for it."
She smiled, and this time it didn't fade.
Her dad cleared his throat and straightened his back. "Honey, you've threatened me with that couch for thirty years."
"And?"
"And I've never once slept on it." He crossed his arms. "Which couch are you even talking about?"
"The couch in the living room," her mom said.
"We have two in the living room."
"The big one."
"They're both big."
"The one you like to sleep on."
"I like both."
Her mom narrowed her eyes. "Then you'll be sleeping on both of them tonight."
"I can't sleep on two couches at the same time."
"Then you'll move between them."
"Honey, I'm eating."
Seo-yeon burst out laughing. Her mom laughed too, and then her dad, who tried to hold it in and failed so badly that he snorted rice into his napkin. Seo-yeon laughed until she had to hold her stomach, and her mom told her to stop before she hurt the babies, which made all three of them laugh even harder. A couple at the next table looked over and smiled.
"Okay, okay," her mom said finally, wiping her eyes. "Back to the topic."
They talked it through together. Her mom said she should rest and stop stressing herself. Her dad said the job wasn't worth her health. Her mom said she should also stop carrying heavy things, and her dad said she should stop walking up the stairs too fast, and then they argued about whether the house needed an elevator. By the time the plates were empty, it was decided. Seo-yeon would go to work the next morning and hand in her resignation to her boss.
---
They got home in the late afternoon. The delivery trucks had already started arriving, and two men in uniforms were carrying a white crib up the stairs while her dad stood at the bottom giving them directions. Seo-yeon's mom went straight into the kitchen, tied on her apron and started pulling things out of the fridge.
"Go upstairs and take a bath," she said over her shoulder. "Dinner will be ready in an hour."
"Mom, I can help."
"You can help by resting. Go."
Seo-yeon went up to her room. The bath was warm, not hot, with the lavender smell her mom liked. She sat in it for a long time, one hand on her stomach, thinking about the next morning. She wasn't sad about leaving the job. She had worked there for three years. She had made friends. Lisa, her co-worker, had covered for her more times than she could count. But she knew it was time.
When she came down, the table was already set. Her mom had made seaweed soup, grilled fish, braised tofu, three kinds of side dishes and a bowl of fresh fruit. Her dad was sitting at the head of the table with his napkin tucked into his collar, pretending he hadn't been waiting there for twenty minutes.
"Sit," her mom said. "Eat."
They had dinner together, and it was quieter than lunch. Her dad asked what time she planned to go to the office. Her mom asked if she wanted her to come along. Seo-yeon said no, she wanted to do it herself.
"Then take the driver," her dad said.
"Daddy, I can take a taxi."
"You'll take the driver."
"Fine."
"And call us when you're done."
"I will."
"And don't let that boss talk you out of it," her mom added. "If he asks you to stay, say no."
"He won't ask, Mom."
"If he does, say no."
"Okay."
After dinner, she went up to her room, brushed her teeth and climbed into bed. She lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of the house. Her mom washing dishes. Her dad talking to the delivery men. The soft hum of the heater. She put her hand on her stomach and smiled.
*It's going to be okay,* she thought.
She fell asleep before she finished the thought.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains and landed right on her eyes.