This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad (44 page)

She starts dancing to ‘Domino’ and I can’t take my eye off her. Her freestyle is an upgraded version of
Flashdance
and something else totally awesome. She dances around me purposely avoiding my touch.
She
’s the one spinning me out of control!

“I promise to never let you go,” I say when I finally catch her at the end of the song. “You were incredible, better than most dancers in this studio and they train thirty hours a week.”

“Well, you were my inspiration. I would love to work with her, Jessie J. Maybe when I get to London in a few weeks,” she absently says and kisses me.

“It just comes to you with no real effort doesn’t it? That jump you made; none of my crew
have mastered it yet.” She needs to go back to dancing; she’s a natural.

“I’m a Riddell; dancing is in our blood,” she shrugs.

“Could you redo the routine? I want to learn it,” I tell her.

“Greg…” she warns. I shoot back my best innocent look. “You know what I like about that song? The use of the guitar, structure and the lyrics; it makes it an instant hit,” she says and walks away.

“I know but when you dance Lulu… You have so much talent.”

“I know that. Like I said, I’m a Riddell; we’re all talented. But I want to make music more than I want to choreograph a show. We’ve talked about this before.”

Yes we have and I should let this go before we fight again. “Sorry,
yaeya,
[33]
my lips are sealed.” For now…

She doesn’t look too convinced, but her phone buzzes and as usual, she thinks it’s about Cassie. But it’s not. It’s the other man in her life: the notorious BLG himself – Patrick Grant.

“Heya, Paddie. Do you like my Essex accent?” she laughs. She looks at me. “No, I’m free to talk. I’m in the studio getting my ass back in shape by… Don’t be mean!” She covers her phone. “I’ll take it outside,” she says and leaves the room.

Sometimes I hate not being her best friend anymore – the one who used to light up her eyes with a phone call or a visit – but I guess we needed to move past that stage of our relationship. But how Patrick Grant got the job I’ll never know. They talk, chat, text every day. It’s always Paddie this or BLG that. The man is so damn handsome…and a doctor! The perfect man really…if he wasn’t her ex Marcus’s older brother. But, really, how did Patrick Grant get the job? I quietly peek thought the door. Lulu is laughing and telling him about…everything! So that’s how it feels to be on the other side. It fucking sucks.

“Aunt Liv, for the last time there is no need to criticize her in Korean. She is fluent in that language as well,” I say to my mum’s cousin. Lulu is in the living room too busy trying to put Cassie down for her mid-morning nap to notice all the strange
stares going her way.  She is used to it by now. They call her
gug-oeja
[34]
and I’m still not sure why. It’s just another monthly Sunday brunch with the Choi Clan.

Our first 2012 New York gateway didn’t go as planned. Lulu ended up working most of the time, either from my townhome in Brooklyn or scouting new American talents her team had told her about.  Music, music, music…
Always music.

“
Yua?
[35]
It’s hers?” another cousin of my mum asks. Every time we get another member of the family showing up, we have to explain the ‘situation’.

“That would make her mine too, so no she’s not. She’s her older sister Noor’s daughter,” I tell her.

“And where is
that
Noor?” she adds.
Where is she, this one?

Last time we checked, in Budapest. “They’re dancers, her husband and her, like me,” I say, forgetting how much they are not so keen on my choice of career. “Anyway, they put up this big show last spring and they’ve been on tour ever since. Someone had to look after their kid while they’re away.” Not that we volunteered for the job. She was already leaving her with us.

Mum steps in. “She looks so much like Lucia, but if she was Greg’s she would have smaller eyes. Those Riddell girls and their huge grey eyes!”

“Still,” Aunt Liv adds and pours herself some tea. “His fam
ily could have taken care of her. That man, that Andrew, is just spending his wife’s money away. A man is supposed to take care of his family not the opposite.”

“Money?” says the other cousin.

“Oh yeah,
gug-oeja’
s family is really rich. They have trust funds and at thirty they are able to use them,” Aunt Liv explains.

“Oh…” she says and looks at me.

Oh…what? Unlike Andrew, I make my own money, thank you very much!

“Can you believe that he wasn’t even at his own child’s birth?” Aunt Liv continues.

“Aunt Liv…” I say.

“He wasn’t?” the other cousin gasps, completely horrified.

“No, Tammy. He was in England or something. He showed up a week later. A week!” Aunt Liv continues.

“Ladies
geuman!
[36]
” mum says. She bends down closer. “It was Dublin and ten days. But what can you do? He doesn’t have the success my Greg has,” she says, patting my shoulder. “Can you go check on your sister? The
other
men are getting hungry.” Anything to get away from the gossiping around table that is this room.

I find Kathie in her bedroom with Lulu and a sleeping Cassie.

“Hey,” Lulu whispers.

Kathie lazily stretches and yawns, showing off her pregnant belly even more.

“We’re waiting for you to start serving brunch,” I tell Kathie. She’s lying down next to Cassie and must have been asleep u
ntil a few minutes ago.

“Your nephew can’t stop kicking today,” she says and gets up very clumsily. My baby sister is having a baby; I’m still not used to that.

“Please warm up my
Japchae.
[37]
I’ll join you in a bit. I want to make sure she’s sleeping
sleeping
,” Lulu says.

“Ten more weeks of winter,” Kathie says, while rubbing her belly and following me outside. “Michael will be back for the birth.” My
unmarried
baby sister is having a baby; I will never get used to that. “She’s so good with her,” she says, referring to Lulu and Cassie.

“So I’ve noticed. I wonder how Noor would have been with her,” I say. She shrugs back. “Cassie is not easy,” I tell her to explain my comment. The Mpobo-Riddell women seem to have guardianship agreements just lying around in case som
eone needs to have one signed.
Money
…

“Hmm…” she says.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing really… You don’t seem too
fond
of her – Cassie,” she tells me.

“I like the kid,” I interject and shrug. I like her like a cute guest in my house, home and life: a guest who sometimes ove
rsteps her boundary, like sleeping with my fiancée more often than less.

“But you don’t
love
her,” she says.

“No,
nan geunyeoleul salanghaji anhneun.
[38]
She wasn’t supposed to be a part of this, of us – Lulu and I.” I’ve been trying my best to be okay with it.

“Things change,” Kathie says and shows me her round belly. “You have to adapt. Luce is crazy about that kid and Cassie is crazy about her.”

“Don’t I know it!” We reach the large dining room and I help Kathie down next to Dad.

“When are you picking a wedding date again?” she asks me.

“On our two-year engagement anniversary in less than three weeks. We’re almost there,” I tell her with a bright smile.

“Why not on Valentine’s Day next week?” she asks.

“Because, Prego Brain, that’s what we decided two years ago!” Lulu says and sits down across me. “Are they done exchanging the latest gossip about your infamous
gug-oeja
yet?” she asks me half-teasing, half-serious.

“I’m so sorry about that. It’s not right,” I say. My mum ma
rried a white Irish man; they should be over the whole ‘foreigner’ thing.

“Please, I’m a child of many worlds. This doesn’t bother me,” she says with a reassuring smile.

“I don’t deserve you
yaeya,
[39]
” I tell her and kiss her hand from across the table.

She smirks back. “Besides, it’s a thousand times better than what they’re calling your dad!” she laughs.

“Excuse me?” I gasp.

“Oopsie!
Never mind.” She looks away. “Come to think of it, you haven’t been properly introduced to the Riddell clan yet,” she says looking back.

“Yes I have!”

“Believe me, you haven’t.
Gug-oeja
should be the least of your worries.” She winks and helps herself to a big serving of
Dak Bulgogi
.

I’ve got to
properly
meet the Riddell clan in the most usual circumstances – a funeral.

Our Valentine’s Day had already been ruined. Cassie was having a fever and no one but Lulu was able to calm her down. The poor little thing was all reddish, she couldn’t eat or sleep, and she wasn’t even babbling anymore. She was just silently weeping in her aunt’s arms. It broke my heart to see how fragile she was: nothing like the little spitfire who had been taking over our lives for the past year. Lulu had been sleeping in her room for the past two days or at least she had been trying to sleep.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I whispered when I entered Cassie’s room. 

Lulu looked up and smiled. She was catching up on some work while she could.
“Thank you, babe. I’m sorry we can’t do anything today. But I’ll make it up to you.”

“How is she?” I looked at Cassie resting for the first time in days.

“A bit better. Paddie told me that she would get better after a few days. The antibiotics are working.”

I handed her her gift. I bought it weeks ago when we had planned to go away for the day.

“Greg…” She opened the box and took out the flight tickets. “Glasgow? You big romantic!”

“Same hotel, same everything,” I whispered back.
Minus Marcus and his friends.

“How could I say no to that?” she smiled. And then the phone rung and ended this perfect moment. “Take it outside,” she mimed.

“Hello,” I said in the hallway.

“Greg? Is Lucia there?” Was it Patrick Grant?
On
my
phone?

“Patrick, are you alright?” He sounded horrible. Things couldn’t possibly get any stranger, like a declaration of love on Valentine’s Day…

“No, I’m not.”

I chose not to imagine the worst and brought the phone back to Lulu. “Patrick,” I mimed.

“My phone is off,” she said apologetically. “Paddie, BLG, thanks for checking up. Cassie is better today–” She almost dropped the phone. “Oh my god! No!” Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Patrick, I’m so sorry. What can I do? Tell me!” She started to cry effusively and left the bedroom. I found her in the living room crying her eyes out.

“Lulu, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?”

“Stanford, Patrick and Marcus’s dad, had a brain aneurysm this morning,” she said between sniffles.

“Is he going to be alright?” I didn’t even know he had a co
ndition.

“They found him too late; he’s in a coma, Greg. He’s not g
oing to make it, Greg!” she cried and fell into my arms. I knew how much she liked Stanford Grant or Best-Looking Grant as she called him.

“Hey… Don’t get yourself so worked up, Lulu. There is not
hing you can do from here,” I told her.

“I know,” she said, wiping her tears. “Paddie and Doddy; I want to be there for them. I’m going to Manchester.”

That was our Valentine’s Day – Lulu crying on the phone with Paddie and Cassie sick.

Stanford Grant passed away three days later. By then Cassie was feeling much better and had her picture taken for her first passport.

“I don’t understand why she can’t stay with her own mot
her,” I told Lulu while we were having lunch at Axelle’s. Noor and Andrew had landed in Toronto the day before and would be in town for a couple of weeks: long enough for us to go to Manchester and then Glasgow.

“They’re in the living room; you go ask them,” she said. She gave me a bottle. “Give this to Cassie while you’re in there,
Jagiya.
”

It was up to me to restore Cassie to her parents, so to speak. She was on the floor with Fraser and back to her daredevil ways. She and the latest Anderson family addition had the same big grey eyes. His were full of innocence when hers were full of mischief. She smiled at him before taking his toy and crawled away for more privacy, leaving her chocked cousin behind.

“Fraser, you have six months on her; fight back!”

He gave an ‘I’m a love not a fighter’ look.