Masitda Restaurant, Baltimore, Wednesday Evening

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To tell the truth and shame the devil--a saying Kathy's mom had adored when she was alive--when Dante had suggested that they go out for Korean food, Kathy hadn't expected much. Dante didn't speak the language, didn't know the culture, and his only real introduction to the cuisine was what Kathy cooked at home and the hundred of weird bottle and jars of seasoning she kept in the door of the fridge, next to the more normal bottles of mayo and ketchup and relish. It wasn't that she was expecting it to be bad or anything, but she'd figured something middle-of-the-road, declaring its authenticity by blaring k-pop from the mid-2000s with two kinds of kimchi at most and a couple of sushi offerings to round out the 'Asianness' of the menu. All of which would have been perfectly fine and Kathy would have gone home, full and happy, and not given it another thought.

She realized she was wrong the moment they stepped into the restaurant. It smelled like home, evoking a sense of nostalgia and homesickness so sharp she rocked backwards on her heels for a moment. The table next to them had seven different banchan bowls on one side of it and over the shoulder of another patron, she could spot a menu page devoted entirely to different kinds of kimchi, several of which had seasonal warnings next to them. Apparently this place thought it wouldn't do to serve Yeolmu-kimchi in the middle of winter and you know what? They were goddamn right.

Kathy reached for Dante's hand, squeezing it tightly, letting her grip speak louder than she could right then about how pleased she was with his choice of restaurant for the evening.

[Not for broadcast and for that guy she's with!]

Comments

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Kathy pushed forward another bowl so he could try a different variety this time, one with a heavier, smoky flavor, thick and savory. "I know," she said, with a slight shake of her head. "I'm so ready for spring. And warmth. And miniskirts."

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Dante chewed on the kimchi he'd pilfered first. He let out a sigh after he swallowed.

"And we're not even going anywhere tropical on the trip."

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"Maybe I'll just skip out on the island entirely while you're gone," Kathy threatened. "Just jet down to the Caribbean that week instead and lie out on the beach."

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"Only if I get an invite!"

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"You're gonna be in China!"

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"Tropical island with you's nicer!" Dante argued.

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"True," Kathy said with a nod. "China will have an absence of me lounging on a topless beach somewhere, asking Anders to rub suntan lotion onto my back."

Ahahaha, like the time of running away to vacation without Dante hadn't well and truly passed.

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Dante sighed loudly. "See?"

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"Okay, how about this," Kathy offered, poking at the stolen beef chunk as she worked up the courage to try it. "We go on another vacation this summer, right after you graduate. The three of us, all together."

Unlike last year's trips where one or the other of them had been left behind.

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"Where do you wanna go?" Dante said, smiling at her.

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"We did the tropical island last year, I guess," Kathy said. "I mean, I'm down for that topless beach fantasy, but we could find somewhere else to go. I guess it depends whether we want to do something or if we just wanna go somewhere."

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"I'm cool with whatever, as long as we're all hanging out," Dante said, shrugging. "...Maybe not camping though."

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"Aww, you don't wanna spend time in a tent somewhere in the wilderness without plumbing or electricity?" Kathy asked. "But that sounds like so much fun!"

In no way did that sound like fun.

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"Not going anywhere we can't hook up a cooler," Dante said. "Uh, me and Anders did a US roadtrip last time. Maybe Canada or something?"

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"We could do Canada," Kathy mused. "Maybe rent an RV or something? That could tow our bikes or whatever but we'd also have a bed, bathroom, kitchen, and electricity."

Sure, it was kind of old peopley, but Kathy didn't see the appeal of driving over three thousand miles in a car you couldn't move around in, either.

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"Be less of a pain in the ass than a tent, anyway," Dante mused.

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"Specifically, less of a pain in the ass than fucking you on the ground," Kathy said with a fleeting grin. She looked down at the beef again. "Hold my hand?"

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Dante blinked.

Then he saw what she was looking at.

"Okay," he said, reaching for her hand.

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She gave him another small smile, appreciating that he understood without explanation or derision. "It smells really good," she murmured.

Almost too good. That was the problem.

She picked it up with her chopsticks, and took a nibble. Her mouth watered instantly and she couldn't tell if it was from desire or revulsion; her stomach was already in knots from tension alone. She took another, larger bite and chewed.

And her face relaxed.

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"Good?" Dante asked, eyebrows raised.

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"My stomach's still not entirely sure what to do with it, but that's still progress," Kathy said happily. "Definitely beats the previous fast evacuations."

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Dante laughed. "Okay, baby steps," he said.

He held up some kimchi between his chopsticks.

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"Baby steps'll still get me there," Kathy said, leaning forward to take the kimchi off his chopsticks, eyes steady and smiling at him.

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Dante grinned at her. "Look at you, healing and shit."

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"Don't let it get around," Kathy told him, corners of her mouth curling. "People might start expecting me to be all responsible again."