“You want to protect them. I understand that.”
“And you, Mr Kennedy?” He turns to me, ladle in hand. “What are you trying to do?”
“Trying to keep this family together.”
“Why do you care so much?”
I look into the living room, where the children are putting their notebooks away for dinner.
“Because I know what it is to lose everything that makes you feel safe.”
Mr Yang is silent for a moment. The only sounds are the chatter of Emily and Paul and the sizzling of vegetables in the pan.
“This is their story, not someone else’s,” Mr Yang tells me, harsh but fair.
He does not say he realised it was me.
He does not say that he understands that this wound I am trying to heal is my own.
“You are right, Mr Yang. I promise to do my best not to complicate the situation.”
“I’ve never liked lawyers.”
“Neither do I.”
“At least we agree on that.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Mr Yang becomes serious again. “I think you’re already doing it, Mr Kennedy. I just hope in the right way.”
AT DINNER, THE SITUATION improves thanks also to the presence of my friend Paul. I hate to admit it, but he has a way with everyone. I was right to ask for his help. I don’t know how I would have managed the first night at home with the children without Seth and with Mr Yang’s eyes always on me. Yet I thought I was getting on his good side. Maybe that was before I slipped into this family’s life as… what? I’m not quite sure what's going on. I offered to be a guarantor and pretend for a while that I lived here, that Seth and I were a couple. I didn’t take the children into account. How should I deal with them?
“I thought you said you liked noodles,” Mr Yang points at my almost full plate.
“Sure, a lot. Especially these.”
“I have already finished my plate and would like some more.” Paul lifts his plate and is about to stand up when Mr Yang stops him. “I’ll get it.”
“Thank you very much, Mr Yang. You are very kind and a very good chef.”
Mr Yang walks away laughing. I take the opportunity to kick my friend from under the table.
“Hey!” Paul groans, bending down to massage the part I hit.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why are you trying to get on Mr Yang’s good side?”
“I'm not trying to do anything. I don’t have to try to please others, unlike you.”
“Are you someone no one likes?” Mason asks, joining the conversation.
“I’m a lawyer,” I reply diplomatically. “It’s not easy to be liked in this job.”
“But I like him,” Emily says, alluding to Paul puffing up his chest like a peacock. “He’s nice.”
