Chapter 12

Sunny’s turn:

We configured the week so that we’d be freed up early Friday. We’re staying ahead of the game. Next week the construction guys will be hanging the big aluminum pipes that carry megawatts of power at a hundred and thirty-eight thousand volts on one side and some lower voltages on the other. Our part is testing the switches and breakers and transformers out in the yard where they’ll be working, and we’re ahead of them.

It’s advisable. Don’t wanna get whacked on the head by several hundred pounds of metal.

That’s the daytime.

Nights? Oh, baby ... What was marriage supposed to be about? What about that ‘love’ thing that’s subject of word and song?

I found out. The alarm goes off in the morning and wakes up both of us because there’s this activity that we do together that results in perfect sleep.

Carl’s fun in the morning. We sleep comfortably, I in my old cotton night shirt, he in an oversized T-shirt. I beat him to the trailer’s single toilet, and he’s standing there dancing at the door, waiting on me, so when I come out, I rope him for a kiss.

“You’re lucky I haven’t peed on myself, Sunny.”

“You’re a big boy. You can hold it.”

“It’s infinitely more fun when YOU hold it.”

“Horrible!”

He’s good for horrible puns. Ever since we first met, he’s always got me for a turn of a phrase or a pun or a joke. And a smile.

And just fun.

Last night. Showered, eager for bed. He had me naked, lying on his side, facing me. Grabbed me in his arms, strong, loving, rolled onto his back with me carried atop him. Momentous grin.

“Whaaa-aatt?”

“Sunny-side up! It’s better when it ain’t eggs.”

I popped him playfully. “Am I to believe that’s an example of the humor I must endure for the rest of my life?”

“You bet your tootie, cutie!”

“Good enough,” I said. If I’m kissing him, he can’t make those horrible jokes.

Friday morning we went through our little trailer and made sure it’d stand our absence for the weekend. We worked until after the normal lunchtime. The construction crew was getting set up for the afternoon when we met with Jumbo and said bye.

And it’s off on an adventure. I’m going to meet the parents.

And yes, I’ve already talked with my future mother-in-law.

“Mizz Primeaux, I don’t remember if Carl mentioned, but I’m of Korean ancestry.”

“Awww, hon,” she said, “We’re Cajun. That’s a little bit of everything. Adding a bit of Korean can’t help but be a good thing.”

We chatted about a mutually interesting subject – her son. Then, “Are you gonna get your parents to the wedding too?”

That’s the hard question. I was prepared. Uncomfortable, but prepared. “I’m afraid not, Mizz Primeaux. We’re kinda – the word is ‘estranged’, I think. Previous marriage...”

“Oh,” she said, “You’re divorced.” A sigh. “So’s Carl, but I can’t imagine him not telling you.”

“She was the wrong one. I’m the right one.”

“Awww, baby, that’s sweet.”

“It’s true. Mizz Primeaux, I was in a tight-knit Korean community. Parents still arranged marriages. They arranged mine. It was completely wrong, but...”

“ ... You tried bein’ a good daughter and making a go of it...”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Sunny, you take good care of my son, you’ll be MY daughter. Ask Carl’s sister. We love our kids...”

“Carl’s sister!” I spat. “We need to call ‘er too...”

“He hasn’t told HER?”

“No, ma’am.” My mind worked. “D’you have her number?”

“Sure I do. I’ll text it to you.”

“Thank you.”

“Her name’s Carla...”

“I know. He DID tell me that. Don’t know why he hadn’t called ‘er.”

“Sometimes he’s clueless,” she said.

I giggled. “Sometimes, but sometimes he’s so utterly charming, too. And smart. And kind.”

“And loves a giggly girl,” she said. “Carla would be hurt if y’all showed up and didn’t tell ‘er.”

“I’ll call ‘er myself.”

“Will you? You’re gutsy, girl.”

“I am. I got gutsy enough to finally tell HIM how I felt and how he was supposed to react.”

Her laughter told me that she understood that this was a slight exaggeration. “I’m sure he was sitting there hoping...”

“So was I. Didn’t know it was about Carl, though. Now it’s obvious.”

“Darlin’, I am so much lookin’ forward to seeing you in this family.”

“Thank you, Mizz Primeaux.”

After I hung up with her, I dialed the number in the text.

Harried-sounding “Hi, this is Carla...”

“Carla, you don’t know me. I’m Sunny Kim...”

Squeal! “Carl’s fiancée!”

My sigh of relief. “So you know...”

“Yes, I know. Carl told me.”

“He didn’t tell me or your mom that he told you.”

“Just a quickie phone call, Sunny. Basically, ‘Hi Carla. Don’t’ be shocked, but I’m getting married. Her name’s Sunny. We work together. She’s perfect.’”

“I’m not perfect,” I said.

“Hon, I’m his sister. I’m here to tell you that neither is he.”

“Uh, did he tell you I was Korean?”

“Like in ‘she’s this perfect little thing from Korean-American parents’. Like that?”

“Our Carl said ‘Korean-American’? Mister Political Correctness himself?”

“He did. Said that given the choice between us accepting that little detail and us not, he’d choose YOU over us.”

“I hope it’s not like that,” I said. “I know what it’s like, losing your family...”

“How?”

I explained, the sanitized, general overview that I keep in memory for just this sort of conversation. She sounded almost relieved.

“I was afraid it was ‘I tunneled out of North Korea with a soupspoon...”

“No, Dad’s a wholesale specialty grocer.”

“Sunny, I’m good with it. Mom and Dad didn’t raise us to be haters because of race. Stupidity, maybe, but not race.”

“That’s a relief, Carla. So, did you know we’re visiting your folks this weekend?”

“No, I did not. Seriously?”

“Yes. He wants us to meet before the marriage.”

“Okay, let me get this straight, because he’s been known to misconstrue details. He said y’all’re getting married the weekend after you meet us?”

“‘Us’? You mean I get to meet you too?”

“I’m callin’ Mom and tellin’ her that I’ll be there Saturday morning to help her put together the feast. Uh, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Heavens, no ... That’s the idea. I want Carl, therefore I want to be acceptable to Carl’s family.”

“Sunny, you WORK with Carl. I’m tickled you’re not a business grad with an idea about casino marketing.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“He needs a REAL one, Sunny.”

“So do I, Carla.”

“Then as much as it pains me to say good things about my big brother, that’s what you’re getting.”

What I’m getting is driving us south into Louisiana.

“Thinking?” he questioned.

“Yeah, just replaying the conversations I’ve had with your family.”

“If you’re worrying, don’t. Like I said...”

“I’m not worried, Carl. I come away with the feeling that your family sees your happiness as a goal.”

“Little sister never said that, not in all the years I’ve known her.”

“She wouldn’t. She told somebody who could do something about it. Me.”

He turned to glance at me. Smiled. His hand reached over. Our fingers interlaced.

We drove on. I looked at the scenery passing by my window.

“Lots of trees.”

“Trees’re money in this part of the state,” he said. “I’ve been in a paper mill or chip mill or plywood mill a time or two...”

“Interesting,” I said.

“Different world.”

“Electricity’s electricity,” I answered.

“Some of ‘em smell real bad. Others have some rather interesting approaches to providing power. Gotta keep your antennae up.”

“Babe,” I said, “we do that anyway. Every day we’re working with enough electricity to kill us.”

“Yeah, but some deaths are less impressive than others. And all mistakes aren’t injuries. Shut down a plant one time...”

“You’ve done that?” I asked.

“No, but I’ve been there, part of the crew. Somebody made an assumption that turned out to be incorrect. Things got very quiet until the plant people showed up, then it got rather strident.”

“I bet,” I said. “Everybody’s got stories.”

“Some of those stories include dismissing suggestions from junior technicians that things just MIGHT not be as you assume...”

I eyed him. Knowing the way WE relate on the job, I know he listens, considers, coaches ... I learn. Learning with Carl is the best, not that others haven’t done great things in my career development. Jason Ellerbee does not hire technicians who cut corners or who cannot or will not teach. Or learn.

That’s me. My ‘Halfway to a Double E degree and I need a job’ approach worked, somehow. Glad it did. Got to see real people, all mixed up as to backgrounds and races and abilities and skills working together. In the middle of that I made a name for myself.

Now I got Carl out of the deal.

Or he got me.

Or we got each other.

We hit town at dusk, checked into our hotel.

“A shower we can BOTH fit in,” Carl noted, just about the time his phone rang.

“Hi, Mom,” he said. Pause. “We just got into town.” Pause. “Well, we didn’t want to bother you. Y’all’re cooking tomorrow.” Pause. “I’ll ask ‘er. I’m pretty sure what the answer is, though.”

He turned to me. “Mom says she don’t wanna wait until tomorrow to see you.”

“Let’s go,” I said.

He turned back to the phone. “Y’hear that?” Pause. “We’re on the way.” Pause. “Love you too, Mom. Can we bring anything?” Pause. “Okay. See you in a bit.”

He scooped me into his arms. Okay, I’m eminently scoopable around him, okay? Big kiss.

“Let’s do this,” I said. “They can kill us but they won’t eat us...”

He smirked. “Dunno, I kinda enjoy eating you, myself...”

“That’s soooo BADDDD!”

“C’mon, beautiful,” he said. “And I got my sharp sense of humor from my dad...”

“Oh, god,” I laughed.

I was actually excited for the meeting. I know some people have trepidations, but I’d talked with Mizz Primeaux and I’d talked with Carla and I feel good. I’m sure, seeing how Carl is, that his mom makes sure his dad is properly advised.

The front door of their house flew open when we pulled into the driveway. I’ve seen the pictures of his folks, so I recognized the woman who wrapped me up in a hug.