Speaking English with My Father

By Susan de la Vergne

When 27-year-old Eun Pahk moves from Seoul, South Korea to Los Angeles, she makes the move in part for the adventure of living abroad but more importantly to get to know her workaholic, corporate executive father before it’s too late. His life, she believes, has been his work, and the distance between them only grew after her mother's death.

In LA, Eun goes to work at her father’s company. There, she finds herself navigating the complications of being the boss’s daughter, as well as new and different social customs, and the magic of romance. New job, new city, new friends, and new co-workers–some can’t be trusted!–all challenge Eun to examine her life, and she does so with the surprising guidance of the father she had almost given up on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan de la Vergne
• Release date: Jul 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9780979298783

Susan de la Vergne

I wrote my first short story when I was eight, a tale of cowboys and rustlers in the old west, of horse stealing and shoot-outs by the corral. I made copies and gave them to our neighbors who (very kindly) read it. My career as a self-publishing writer had begun. Then I went on to do what writers do--read, write, and major in English in college, which led me to a long career in... information technology. But that's another story. Today, I'm a writer and an editor. I especially like to write about the workplace because there's so little fiction about work, and yet so much happens at work besides work! Although I hover over a keyboard a lot, I also teach ESL, meditation, and modern Buddhism. I live in Los Angeles, which is my home town. I've always been grateful to this city because it's a place where people dream big, and when you're surrounded by dreams, you're more likely to have some of your own.

Book preview

Speaking English with My Father

By Susan de la Vergne

Copyright 2017 Susan de la Vergne

Smashwords edition

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Chapter 1

From her window seat on Korean Airlines Flight 11, Eun Pahk looked out over the city of Los Angeles. It is vast, she thought to herself, just as Father described it. As the plane descended, the city seemed to open itself wide, as if it were saying a quick Welcome before turning its attention elsewhere.

Eun was tired. The eleven-hour flight from Seoul was long, and the days before her journey had been full of activity—farewell lunches, packing, organizing, and worrying. She had spent weeks worrying about what life in Los Angeles would be like, especially what it would be like to live with her father. She had not slept well for several nights lying awake wondering whether moving to California was a good idea.

No more wondering now, she told herself, because she was about to find out. She was here, and there was no turning back.

As the tired passengers shuffled off the plane, she remembered her father’s instructions: go to baggage claim, then customs, and then look for someone who would be holding a sign with her name on it. That was her driver, and he would take her to the office.

At the moment, she felt too tired to go to the office. She would rather go somewhere private and take a hot bath and a long nap. But that was not an option. This was her opportunity to get to know him after all these years, and she would not start out by disappointing him. She was also curious to see the office, the place where she would be working soon.

On the escalator down to baggage claim, a small boy who had been on their flight stood just ahead of her, along with his family. He yawned and reached up toward his father, hoping to be picked up. But his father ignored him, so the child gave up. As they stepped off the elevator, the boy dropped his stuffed bunny and walked away without noticing. Eun scooped up the bunny and quickened her step to catch up with them.

Excuse me, she began. They ignored her.

Excuse me, she persisted. The child pulled on his father’s jacket and pointed to Eun and the bunny. The father turned.

Excuse me, she began again and then realized she’d have to continue the sentence in English because this family was not Korean. Eun’s English was excellent, but she had never lived in a place where she would have to speak it all the time.

You dropped this, she said to the child.

The child took the bunny from her, and no more was said. Eun thought it strange that the father didn’t tell the child to thank her. Then she noticed the mother saying something to the little boy while the father ignored them both. The mother and child approached Eun.

Thank you, the child said quietly.

You are welcome, Eun replied. And then remembering a more casual phrase, she added, No problem.

With a slight smile, the tired mother led the tired child back to wait for the luggage. The father glanced at Eun, and she noticed a sizeable scar over on his forehead, a permanent scrape ending at his eyebrow. He looked like a convict. The US was a dangerous place, guns everywhere, she’d been told. This looked like a man who owned a gun. Eun shuddered slightly at the thought, then told herself she was being overly dramatic. He’s a father, she thought. It’s just a scar.

Eun’s bags were the first ones dropped onto the conveyor belt. She grabbed them and headed for customs, where she waited some more--just what exhausted travelers would rather not do. Finally, she emerged from customs and spotted her name on a sign, just as her father had said she would. The man holding the sign was tall, and Eun had to look way up to see his face.

I am Eun Pahk, she told him.

Great! Hi, I’m Rob, he answered with a smile. I’ll be taking you to this address. He handed her a slip of paper. The address looked correct, so she said nothing more.

Correct? Rob asked.

Yes, she replied.

I knew that, he said, smiling. I work there. I just wanted you to know I was legit.

‘Legit’? Eun asked.

For real, he explained. When he could see she still didn’t understand, he added, I wanted to assure you that I am here for you.

But you have a sign with my name, she pointed out. He smiled again. She couldn’t help but notice that he was quite handsome. At dinner two nights before, Eun’s best friend Yugyoung had left her with a wish that she would meet a handsome American man in LA and have a wonderful romance. And here the first person she had met was a handsome man. Off to a good start.

He took her bags and pointed toward the door. We’re this way, he said, taking the lead.

The car was long and spacious inside, and for a moment Eun, exhausted, was afraid she would doze off in such comfort. But as they pulled out into traffic, a sound like gunshots burst through the traffic din, and she was instantly wide awake. Rob slowed the car and looked around cautiously until he saw an airport security officer laughing and pointing at an old car. He was calming fears quickly. Rob understood and laughed.

What is it? Eun asked anxiously.

That old car there, he said. It must have backfired.

What is ‘backfire’? Eun asked.

Made that noise, Rob answered.

Like from a gun? Eun asked.

Exactly. It’s an old car, the engine does that sometimes in old cars. Not to worry.

Oh yes, an old car, Eun said to calm herself, but her heart was racing. Here she had just been thinking about guns in the US, and now this. She worried about living in a place where violence was common. It took several minutes for her heart rate to return to normal.

Dusk was approaching as they left the airport, passing pillars of light at the entrance, pillars that changed color now and then. Los Angeles seemed busy, but no busier than any other big city. There were fewer people here than in Seoul, but as she’d just seen from her window seat on the plane, it was much larger.

They rode along slowly, hemmed in by traffic, heading toward what appeared to be an elevated highway up ahead. It was still warm out, and the skies were clear. Occasionally someone walked by, but there were no crowds of pedestrians pushing their way along the sidewalks as in Seoul. Just a few people, and now and then someone sitting on the sidewalk on a blanket.

They climbed onto the elevated highway, and traffic moved briskly at first. Rob asked friendly questions about her flight and what she knew about Los Angeles. She confessed she knew little and had never visited before.

After you get settled, I’ll come by and tell you about some great things to do here. I love this city! I hope you will too.

Thank you. That’s very kind, she said, though she was having a hard time picturing where he would be coming by to see her. Wasn’t he just a driver?

As they continued, she read exit signs—Manchester, Centinela, then Overland, National, La Cienega, La Brea.

What highway is this? Does it have a name? she asked Rob.

It’s the Ten, he explained. Some people call it the Santa Monica Freeway.

It is free? she asked as they slowed down for traffic ahead.

No tolls, Rob explained and then added, We pay for roads with taxes, but we don’t pay tolls.

It is free and fast, then, she observed.

Sometimes it’s not fast, he laughed, pointing at the traffic collecting ahead of them.

He got off the freeway and made a few turns, and within minutes they pulled up to the office building on Wilshire Boulevard.

This is it. I can drop you here or we can park and go in together, Rob offered. Your choice.

Park, please, she requested. He was not only handsome, but he had put her at ease, and she found herself enjoying his company.

They plunged down a steep driveway into the dark garage under the building, and a valet appeared.

How long will you be? the valet asked.

Not long, Rob answered, handing him the key.

Not long? Why will we be here ‘not long’? Eun asked as they got into the elevator together.

If I say we will be here a long time, he will park the car very far away. If I say we will be here ‘not long,’ the car will be nearby.

I see, Eun said. He was not only handsome, he was clever.

Rob was smiling, and the valet had been smiling too. Maybe they like their jobs, she thought. Their elevator stopped twice along the way, and the people who got on and off also smiled and greeted others.

Good afternoon, said one. Eun said nothing.

Hey, Rob, said another, obviously a friend.

Hey, Rajesh, Rob replied. His friend appeared to be from India. Rajesh, this is Eun Pahk.

Hello, Rajesh said politely.

Ji-ho’s Pahk’s daughter, Rob added. Eun was surprised to hear Rob the driver call her father by his given name.

Oh! That Eun Pahk, said Rajesh, now more interested. Welcome to Los Angeles! What do you think so far?

I have been here only one hour, Eun said, not sure what else to say.

Too soon to tell, Rob said.

The elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and Rob gestured to Eun to step out. Her father’s company’s offices in LA occupied several floors in this building, and six was apparently one of them. Despite her fatigue, Eun suddenly felt a burst of energy at the prospect of seeing her father. He was a mysterious man, reserved, devoted to his job and nothing else. When he had first invited her to LA, she had hesitated, but she felt it might give them a chance to get to know each other. If she didn’t get to know him now, she probably never would.

She thought of all this as she followed Rob along the plush corridors. Fatigued and apprehensive, she feared she might cry. Her father would not be pleased if she came to him in tears, so she took a deep breath and steadied herself.

The door to his office was closed. A secretary sitting out front said he was in a meeting.

I’ll wait, Eun said, and sat down on a comfortable chair.

Molly, Rob said to the secretary, this is Eun Pahk.

Hello, Molly said.

Your boss’s daughter, Rob said pointedly.

Oh yes, how nice to meet you, Molly said, her white teeth gleaming as she beamed at Eun. Another smile, Eun noted, and she said simply, Thank you.

Rob continued, Just arrived from South Korea.

Welcome to LA, Molly said.

Just this minute. Don’t you think Mr. Pahk would want to know she has arrived?

Molly hesitated. Then she half-whispered, Garrison Randall is in there. I don’t think I should interrupt them.

Eun had been researching her father’s company prior to her arrival, and the name Garrison Randall was familiar, but she couldn’t remember who he was.

Oh, Rob said. I see the problem, as he sat down beside Eun.

What’s the problem? she asked.

Garrison Randall is in there. Eun waited. He’s kind of a grouchy guy. Don’t tell him I said that. Don’t tell your father I said that. Randall is our executive VP of operations. He doesn’t like to be interrupted.

Then we will not interrupt him, Eun announced.

Okay, Rob said cheerfully. You’re the boss.

I am not the boss, Eun corrected him.

It’s a figure of speech. It means ‘you are the person to decide.’

It does not mean ‘you are the boss’? Eun asked, confused.

Nope. It means you get to say what we will do, Rob explained.

I am the boss.

Well, no.

I am not the boss? she asked.

I can say ‘you’re the boss.’ But you can’t say ‘I’m the boss.’

English is confusing, Eun said.

Molly was nodding. It is confusing, she confirmed.

They waited several minutes. The door remained closed.

Molly mentioned there was a coffee machine down the hall, if anyone wanted any. Rob offered to get some, and Eun thanked him. Caffeine would help, she thought, as the travel fatigue got worse.

Rob returned with two cups of coffee. Eun had asked for hers black.

Here’s yours, Rob said. Leaded. For maximum effect.

What does it mean, ‘leaded’?

It means coffee with caffeine. Not decaffeinated.

So many expressions! Eun said, taking a sip of the hot dark drink.

They continued to wait. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. When the door opened, the man who emerged was not her father. It must be Garrison Randall, Eun assumed, and, unlike many people she had seen so far, he was not smiling. He did not look at all happy as he brushed past them all and left.

Mr. Pahk? Molly called to him, but he was already at the door.

My daughter, he said calmly when he saw her. They embraced briefly. It was their first embrace in years. Maybe he had missed her. Maybe he was glad to see her. Ji-ho Pahk was not a man to display his affection, but she hoped their many months apart had softened him some.

He showed her into his office.

Thank you, Rob, her father said as he closed the door in Rob’s face.

Mr. Randall looked unhappy, Eun said in English.

We will not speak of him now, her father said. Thank you for speaking in English. We are living here, and we will speak English, even to each other.

That surprised Eun, but her father had spent years working in the US, traveling often between Seoul and LA or other US cities. He knew his way around US culture, and his English was outstanding. On the occasional weekends and evenings he had been home when Eun was in middle school, she used to listen to his end of business conversations with US colleagues, marveling at his English. Though she’d just begun to study it herself then, she had resolved that someday she would speak as well as he. She was hardly there yet.

We are a Korean company working in an American market, trying to capture an American audience, he continued, starting with Los Angeles. There are many Koreans in this city, but we want the whole city, not just the Korean part.

We will capture them?

To ‘capture’ a market means winning over a group of people, to get them to buy your product or use your service, her father explained.

Then I hope we will capture them! Eun said with enthusiasm.

Her father asked about her journey, which she described as long and unexciting. She confessed to being very tired, and he agreed she must indeed be exhausted. He told her of the apartment in Hancock Park and said he would have Rob drive her there.

It is large. You will have plenty of room there. You can go there and rest.

Is Rob a driver? Eun asked.

Rob is an administrative assistant.

Like a secretary?

Like a secretary, yes.

But he is a man. In Korea, men weren’t secretaries.

It’s one of many things that are different in the US. Administrative assistants may be men or women. Rob’s boss is away, and so I asked him to pick you up at the airport.

Her father asked Molly to call Rob and ask him to come back and take Eun to their LA home, and within minutes Rob was back. Eun stood up and thought about hugging her father again, but when he did not reach for her, she instead bowed slightly and then left with Rob.

See? Rob said cheerfully. I told the valet we’d be right back, and we are.

Yes. You’re the boss, she replied, then asked, Is that right?

Close enough, Rob said.

Eun was surprised that, in a city as huge as this, the drive from the office to the apartment took only ten minutes. Rob pulled up in front and into a temporary parking place and unloaded her bags from the trunk. She followed him into the lobby of the building, a spacious and dramatic room with black-and-white tile floors and a generous spray of fresh flowers on an elegant marble pedestal table. A chandelier sparkled from the ceiling.

Just as Eun was wondering how her father had found such a place, Rob said, We recommend this building to our executives. Nice, isn’t it?

Eun agreed.

Would you like me to bring these up for you? he asked, indicating the bags, but Eun didn’t answer. She was still taking in her new surroundings.

Yes, of course, Rob answered for her. What was I thinking? Eun appreciated his kindness very much.

He led her to the elevator and, once inside, pressed the button for the fifth floor. When the doors opened, he told her to turn left and go to unit 508. Then he unlocked the double locks and handed her the set of keys.

These are yours.

Thank you, she managed.

Can you take it from here? he asked. I’m sure you are very tired.

I can take it from here, she said deliberately, imitating his expression. Thank you very much. And with that, Rob left.

Eun maneuvered the bags through the door. The apartment was larger than she had expected, its many windows ushering in what was left of the California sunshine this late afternoon. In the living room was a plush white couch. All the furnishings were comfortable and stylish. In a corner near the kitchen were a dining table and six chairs. Did her father sit alone at that big table?

There was a flat-screen TV over the fireplace. Did they need a fireplace? Was it ever cold enough here for a fire? She had heard it was not.

She explored the rest of the apartment. First, she found her father’s bedroom. In it were a large bed covered in a black-and-white quilt, a walk-in closet connecting to a huge bathroom, and street scenes of unremarkable places on the wall. At the other end of the room was a simple black dresser with his things on it—a dish for change, a claim check from a drycleaner, and a gold Buddha statue that she recognized. He’d had it for many years.

There was also a photo of Eun with her parents, taken when Eun was thirteen, not long before her mother had become ill. Her mother had died twelve years ago, when Eun was fifteen, of colon cancer—a deceptive and devastating disease. The illness had claimed her quickly.

Eun picked up the photo and studied her mother’s face, noticing once again how much she looked like her mother. They both had high cheekbones, a feature Korean women thought unattractive, and eyes set far apart.

Eun, at twenty-seven, had yet to have a serious relationship with a man. She’d dated some, and there were a couple of men whom she’d gone out with for as long as a few months, but nothing long term. She thought her appearance ordinary and assumed men weren’t particularly attracted. Do men want women who look like my mother? she wondered. But as she studied her mother’s face in the picture, the woman who looked back at her was warm and confident. Maybe she wasn’t particularly pretty, but something had attracted her father. What was it? That was something she would never be able to ask her mother, she thought sadly.

Men weren’t a priority. At least, that was what she’d told herself so far. Still, she appreciated kind, handsome men, like the one who had picked her up today. Maybe Yugyoung was right. Maybe she would meet a man here and really get to know him. How would men in LA be different? So much to find out.

What would her mother have said about her move to LA? Would she have approved? Eun’s mother had never worked. She’d had only one