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The calm, soothing hum of voices floated through the diner, punctuated by sounds of the bells over the door jangling as customers came and went. Every so often a voice was raised to make a point (often about “some jackass politician”), but it was almost always followed by a burst of laughter. The diner was not a large space and had a handful of tables as well as a row of booths along the big window that looked out over the parking lot and gas pumps. The place felt homey and familiar. The eaters in JK’s Pancakes were a mix of regulars and travelers just passing through. In the corner booth farthest from the door, a very small girl with bouncy, black pigtails leaned over the table in concentration, looking through a large picture book. The detritus of her breakfast was pushed to the side. She was dressed in a rainbow of vivid colors and, despite the sunny morning, was wearing bright yellow rain boots.
The quiet was shattered with an ear-splitting DING. Customers turned to look as Yoongi’s palm pounded the dented silver bell. He slid four plates piled high with steaming pancakes into the pass-through window. DING! The girl didn’t look up from her book but giggled anyway.
He yelled, “Order up!” and slammed his hand onto the bell again. DING!! DINGDING!!
Jungkook turned and stared at him with mock exasperation. “Yoongi, I’m right here! You don’t have to ring the bell! You’re looking right at me! I’m practically right next to you!”
DING! Yoongi smirked and adjusted his headband as he turned back to tend to the eggs bubbling on the flat top. Whenever Jungkook is in a mood and wants to feel like he has some sway over Yoongi, he threatens to take the bell away. He knows that Yoongi has two more bells hidden among the cooking utensils and that those bells are bookmarked in the diner’s Amazon account. Yoongi is not losing his bell. Jungkook knows it.
Jungkook lined the plates up his left arm and grabbed a small ceramic pitcher filled with warm maple syrup in his right hand, then wove gracefully between the tables of the diner to deliver breakfast to a booth filled with four women, some of his favorite local regulars. They thought he was cute and tipped generously. He knew they discussed his ass when they thought he couldn’t hear them, but that was okay. Tips are tips. You use what you have, even if it means having a clean pair of Wranglers for every day of the week.
He stopped on his way back to the kitchen to take an order from a couple of travelers.
A willowy man dressed in white jeans, a mauve tank, and a floral overshirt, every hair in place, had drifted in from the gift shop and slid behind Jungkook, telling him, “Coffee refills on 8.”
In the midst of the controlled chaos, a high, clear voice rang out from the corner booth. “Daddy! The bus is here! Did you put my lunch in my backpack?”
“Yes, baby! Hang on, let me just drop this order with Uncle Yoongi . . . Jin, can you refill those coffees?”
“I’ll take her, JK!” a man in denim coveralls called from the door. “Come on, Mina. Grab your backpack!”
“If I get coffee on these jeans, it’s all on you, JK,” Jin answered as he grabbed a coffee pot.
“Put on an apron, Einstein!” sputtered Jungkook.
“I’m coming, Uncle Hobi! I’ll race you! I love you, Daddy!”
“I love you more, baby!”
Hobi and the girl were at the door when they heard a bellow from Yoongi.
“MINA!”
“What, Uncle Yoongi?”
“I made your favorite lunch for you because you’re my favorite girl.”
“Thank you! You’re my favorite Uncle Yoongi! And Uncle Hobi is my favorite Uncle Hobi!”
Jungkook watched Hobi shepherd Mina through the parking lot to the open door of the yellow school bus that rumbled as it sat waiting for her between the gas pumps and the diner, her glossy, thick pigtails bobbing as she walked. With a boost from Hobi, she clambered up the steps into the bus, then turned and waved at Jungkook through the diner window before settling into a window seat and waving again, flashing him a huge smile, made notable by the absence of front teeth. After the bus pulled onto the highway, Jungkook dropped the order at the pass-through window, then grabbed a coffee pot and walked through the diner, refilling and topping off coffee cups, asking customers if they wanted to order anything to go, picking up checks, flashing his dazzling smile, making sure the ladies got a good look as his ass as he bent over nearby tables.
The bells over the door jangled as two young women walked in, staring around themselves like tourists in an H-Mart, each with a cell phone in her hand. They wound their way between the tables to a booth next to the windows. Jungkook grabbed two menus and slid them onto the table.
“Hi, welcome. I’m Jungkook. Take your time with the menu, but can I offer you some coffee while you decide?”
They both stared up at him for just long enough to make the moment uncomfortable, then one looked past him to the pass-through window, where Yoongi was visible (and audible) as he worked (and sang). Their heads swiveled in unison to look at Hobi when he came back into the diner, holding the door open for Jin as he went back to the gift shop to tend to a couple of shoppers.
“Wow, it’s true,” one said to the other. “Usually Yelp reviews exaggerate, but this one is solid.”
“Yeah,” breathed the other, looking back up at Jungkook. “Solid.” Then she looked him up and down and repeated herself. “Solid.”
“Uhh, coffee?” he asked again, brandishing the pot and pointing to it to reinforce the fact that he was asking them if they wanted coffee from the pot in his hand.
“Can I get a mocha latte?” asked the first one.
“Well, no,” he answered. “We don’t have that kind of equipment here, but I can serve your coffee with a side of chocolate syrup and whipped cream?”
“Yeah, two of those,” she answered.
He went back to the counter to fake their mochas, then pulled out his phone to check the Yelp reviews for JK’s Pancakes. If they weren’t here for the pancakes, then why would two women drive this far onto the highway to come to a diner that specialized in pancakes and then order Starbucks coffee?
Ah. Five stars from user @PancakeHo. “JK’s Pancakes is a drive, but totally worth it. The pancakes are perfect and they have a lot of different kinds – they even have Korean kimchi and vegetable pancakes – but the real draw here is that the place is co-owned and operated by a group of five extremely handsome men. It’s like IHOP and Chippendales had a baby – five babies who all grew up to be hot. But make no mistake: the pancakes are no joke and are totally worth a drive down the highway if you happen to be a weirdo who doesn’t like hot men. Chef Min Yoongi works some kind of strange magic to make the standard buttermilk stack almost float, they’re so light. Whenever he’s in the mood, he’ll add Japanese Souffle Pancakes to the menu. It’s not a regular occurrence – you can’t plan for it. But if serendipity is on your side, you might be there to try these airy, fluffy, pillowy, but somehow also custardy delights. Legend says that a regional restaurant critic made that drive every day for 47 days until Chef Min finally had a whim to make these special treats. The review said it was worth every hour and gallon spent on this quest. If you’re not there on one of those charmed days, you’ll still walk away satisfied. JK’s Pancakes is part of a small compound of businesses that include a gas station/garage and a small gift shop that sells Korean snacks and candies, as well as games and toys to keep kids busy on a long drive. Did I mention that everyone who works there is really handsome?”
Jungkook smirked to himself. If they’re here looking for husband material, they’re at the wrong diner. He texted the review to the rest of his business partners. It would surely fuel months of teasing.
In the lull between the breakfast rush and the lunch rush, Jungkook worked his way through the diner, wiping tables, refilling napkin dispensers, pushing chairs under tables, checking salt and pepper shakers, sweeping up messes left by enthusiastic toddlers, switching out ketchup bottles, changing into a clean apron. Jin came back in, supposedly to help, but mostly to flirt with Yoongi. There was no one in the gift shop at this hour, so he put up the sign saying he was next door and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen where he began to explain to Yoongi why arranging his prep area alphabetically was superior to “this haphazard, insane, frankly DANGEROUS array of ingredients you’re weaponizing over here” as Yoongi chopped onions, sliced tomatoes, and pointedly ignored him. Jungkook laughed and shook his head, glad that the only customers in JK’s Pancakes right now were local regulars who had heard it all before. At this point, they considered the bickering foreplay between Jin and Yoongi to be gay community theater and were disappointed when things were quiet between them.
A tall, lilac-haired man with a substantial build, a sweet smile, and deep dimples came in next, looking for a coffee refill. Like Hobi, he was dressed in mechanic’s coveralls, but he had his zipped open with the arms tied around his waist. He wore a white t-shirt that showed off his muscular arms and chest. “Can you grab it yourself?” Jungkook asked. “I need to get the stations set up for lunch. Besides, you’re part owner of this place and should know how to work the coffee pot by now.”
“Didn’t you forbid me from pouring coffee last month?” Namjoon asked. “You demanded that I ask you if you were here, and to ask Yoongi if you weren’t available. I recall a diagram or a process document of some sort? How am I supposed to keep up with the rule changes? ‘Don’t touch the coffee. No knives for you.’ I’m going to get whiplash, JK!”
“Those pots are expensive, hyung,” Jungkook laughed. “Remember the flowchart: Place the cup on a flat surface, wrap your fingers slowly and carefully around the handle of the pot, pour the hot liquid INTO the cup, then place the pot back into the machine. Don’t look away until you’re sure it’s settled properly into the machine. I mean, right now we have these pots on subscription – we get a shipment every two months. It’d be nice to go a week without needing a new one.”
Namjoon grumbled something Jungkook couldn’t hear, but he thought he heard something about Descartes and the French Revolution. “Does Hobi need a refill too? Can you carry two cups at once?” Jungkook asked him.
Namjoon screwed up his handsome face and did a squeaky, inaccurate imitation of Jungkook back at him. “Can you carry two cups at once? When did you get so mean, JK? You used to be so sweet and quiet.”
“I’m still sweet! Just ask the ladies!”
“Like warm maple syrup!” one of them called to Namjoon.
“More like a couple of sweet, warm muffins!” another one said as the whole table giggled.
Namjoon became completely flustered and turned to them. “Ladies, I am beginning to doubt your objectivity. I believe your affection for Jungkook makes it impossible for you to observe his behavior without intrinsic bias.”
“Oh, no, we’re busted!” a third answered and all four of them dissolved into more giggles as Namjoon spun around and stomped back toward the garage. He didn’t realize until he was through the door that he’d forgotten his and Hobi’s coffees. He came back and grabbed them, pink-cheeked as he glared at Jungkook and the regulars continued to laugh. Then he returned to the garage, still muttering.
“Oh, Jungkookie,” one of them said when she’d caught her breath. “He is adorable. We often discuss his ass too. Please let him know.”
“Um, ahh, okay, during the next staff meeting, I’ll put it on the agenda,” he said in complete seriousness.
Just then, Jungkook heard Jin’s agitated voice ringing out of the pass-through window. “That is NOT how one dices an onion, Yoongi! That’s a mince, and you know it! And so irregular! Have you forgotten what a brunoise looks like? You’re like a caveman, just thrashing at onions with a club and a spear! I expect someone to arrive any minute to confiscate your culinary diploma!”
“Ladies, I need to go sort that out – excuse me. There are so many knives in there . . . Oh, god, no, and a mandoline . . . and a blender . . .”
Jungkook burst into the kitchen, expecting to find Jin and Yoongi squared off, each armed with a cleaver. Instead, he saw Jin with a huge smile and a few shards of onion in his hair. Yoongi was chopping like a maniac. I guess this is better than that time I found them making out in the walk-in.
The lunch rush was uneventful but busy, as it is every day, with Jin helping Yoongi in the kitchen and Hobi stepping in from the garage to help Jungkook run food and bus tables. The usual truckers came and went, travelers came and went. At about 2:00, Jungkook made sure Mina’s booth was clean and ready for her to spread out her books, toys, and markers until he clocked out at 4:30 and they made the long walk home, about 50 yards to a small cluster of neat houses set back from the commercial compound.
At about 2:05, the jangling bells over the door alerted Jungkook that someone had just arrived. He was preoccupied with rolling flatware into napkins, but two seconds too late, he looked up to see that the customer was walking straight toward Mina’s booth.
Shit! Maybe he’ll order to go. Maybe he’ll just get coffee. Jungkook wanted to ask the customer to sit at another booth – but it seemed borderline unwelcoming to ask someone to leave a clean, empty seat. Inhospitable. All of the regulars knew to leave that booth for Mina in the afternoons, but how was a stranger to know?
The man turned to sit and Jungkook’s breath hitched. So handsome. He was dressed casually, like road-trippers usually were, in jeans, hiking boots, long-sleeved shirt, and a soft, gray hiking vest. Wire-rimmed glasses, a lot of silver jewelry, sandy hair. Soft features and a lean, muscular build. Thighs for days. Jungkook could now see that he carried a laptop bag with him – this wasn’t looking good for a brief visit to grab to-go food. Still, maybe he just didn’t want to leave the laptop in his car. Jungkook was torn – he wanted the man to stay because, well, look at him. He wanted to look at this man for as long as possible. But he wanted the booth for Mina. He decided he’d politely and graciously ask the customer to move to another booth. Yes, that was the way to go. Just be firm and apologetic.
Jungkook took a glass of water and a menu to the table and greeted the man sitting in Mina’s booth.
“Hi, welcome. I’m Jungkook and here’s a menu. Can I bring you anything while you look at the menu? Coffee?”
Jungkook internally screamed. Those are not the words I wanted to say! Why didn’t I say the words? Stupid words.
“Oh, hello,” the man said with a soft, disarming smile. Jungkook noticed how full and pink his lips were. “Tea, please. Hot.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Jungkook, spinning toward the counter to set up a cup, pot of hot water, and tea bag. He added a to-go cup and lid to his tray, hoping to nudge fate but also hoping the man would stay and just spontaneously move to another booth. Maybe if I spill all over the table . . .
“Here you go,” said Jungkook, setting the cup and pot in front of the man, who looked up at him with the same soft smile. Wow. “Would you like to order some food?”
“Oh, yes. I see you have kimchijeon on your menu. You’re Korean?”
“Yes! We’re all Korean or Korean-American – the co-owners of this place.” Jungkook gestured to include the diner, gift shop, and attached garage. “When we decided to buy this place and open a pancake diner, we knew we needed a couple of kinds of Korean pancakes on the menu, even if we didn’t sell a lot of them.”
“I’m tempted to order them, but I looked up your menu when my friend and I decided to meet here, and since then I’m just craving breakfast for lunch. So I’ll have the buttermilk pancakes with a side of bacon, please. But if I pass through here again, I’m definitely getting the kimchijeon.” He smiled up at Jungkook again, this time with his eyes disappearing into two sideways crescent moons.
Well, this definitely wasn’t a to-go meal. Jungkook spun around and trotted to the pass-through to give Yoongi the ticket. “Hey, can you get this out fast? The guy’s sitting in Mina’s booth and it’s after 2:00, but I couldn’t figure out how to ask him to move.”
Yoongi took the ticket but just stared incredulously at Jungkook. “You just say, ‘Hey, excuse me, could you move.’ It’s not that complicated.” Then he looked out through the pass-through and saw the customer. He smirked. “Oh, okay. I see.”
“I tried! I meant to, but . . . Just . . . fast? Please?” Jungkook then walked into the kitchen to grab another tray of flatware to stock the dining room. As long as he was there in the kitchen, he decided to run some plates through the dishwasher. By the time he went back out into the dining room with the tray of flatware, he saw the yellow school bus pulling out of the parking lot. He gasped and looked at the corner, where he saw Mina slide into the booth in the seat across from the very startled customer, who had pulled out both his phone and his laptop while he waited for his food. His eyes were huge and round and his mouth made a plump, pink O as he stared at the little girl across from him.
Jungkook promptly dropped the tray of flatware. Forks skittered loudly across the floor in every direction as all eyes turned toward him, including Mina’s and the customer’s. Weak applause and a half-hearted “woot” spouted from a table of three truckers, all regulars. This was followed by silence during which Jungkook stared at Mina and the customer and they both stared back at him.
“Hi, Daddy,” Mina said. She turned back to the customer. “Hi, I’m Mina. That’s my dad. Do you like guinea pigs? My dad said I could have a guinea pig soon, but first I have to keep a plant alive for two months. Since I don’t have a guinea pig yet, I named my plant. His name is Juniper. Or Jupiter? Which one is a planet?”
The customer smiled at her as Jungkook scrambled to pick up the spilled flatware, his face a lovely shade of pink. “Sorry, everyone!” he called. “Sorry about the noise.”
The customer looked at Mina and said, “Hello, Mina. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jimin.”
“Are you Korean too?” she asked.
“Why, yes, it just so happens that I am.”
“Me too,” she said, pulling some books and papers and a baggie of markers out of her backpack. “So is my dad. So is Uncle Yoongi and Uncle Jin and Uncle Hobi and Uncle Joonie.”
“About your question before – the planet is Jupiter. Juniper is a kind of plant. Is your plant a juniper?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “But his name is Jupiter. Plant is P-L-A-N-T. Planet is P-L-A-N-E-T.”
At this point, Jungkook jogged up to the booth, a little out of breath, still pinkish and smiling, looking a little sheepish. “Hey, sorry about this,” he started. “Mina’s bus came a few minutes early and I thought maybe I could get your food out to you faster –”
“Oh, would you like me to move to another table? I don’t mind,” Jimin said, already gathering his phone and bag to move. “I totally understand. I’m a stranger.”
“No,” Mina said firmly, uncapping some markers. “Daddy, can he stay here? His name is Jimin and we’re going to color and he’s Korean like us.”
Jungkook glanced around himself and saw Yoongi watching from the pass-through, Jin watching from the counter, arms folded across his broad chest, the regulars watching from their table, and Hobi glancing up through the window as he showed something under a car’s hood to a customer.
Jimin watched this survey as well and felt all those sets of eyes on him, wary and appraising. Intimidating.
“I think that’s okay, as long as he doesn’t mind?” answered Jungkook, raising his eyebrows at Jimin. “It looks like you have some work to do, though?”
“No, I don’t mind a bit!” Jimin answered. “And I was just going to kill time. But I’m afraid I might be here for a while, just so you know. I’m meeting a colleague here – we’re on our way to do some historical research – and he’s already a few minutes late, so I might be lingering a bit. But I’m not weird. Or anything. I have nieces and I love to color. Maybe that’s weird.”
“No, it’s fine. Stay. I think you’ve already seen the goon squad that watches over her. I’m Jungkook, by the way.” Jungkook’s eyes twinkled at Jimin, who seemed momentarily hypnotized by them if the dreamy look on his face was any indication. “And I already know that you’re Jimin.
“Mina, what do you want for snack today?” asked Jungkook.
“Can I have triangle kimbap?” she asked after screwing up her face in concentration. “With carrots and cucumbers and that stuff Uncle Yoongi puts in it?”
“Sure, baby,” Jungkook answered. “Coming right up.” He turned and headed to the kitchen.
“Ooh, that sounds yummy,” Jimin said to Mina. “What should we color?” By this time, he’d put his laptop back in the bag and left just his phone sitting on the table. He leaned forward to see what she’d pulled out of her own bag.
“I have these coloring pages for homework that I have to do first,” she answered seriously. “But you can color these guinea pigs. Then I’ll color some guinea pigs too when I’m done with my homework.” She shoved a somewhat rumpled coloring page at him. He saw a simple line drawing of three guinea pigs gathered around a food dish.
“Okay, that sounds nice,” Jimin said to her. “What’s your homework?”
“It’s a map of our town,” she answered. “I have to color it in and add where I live. We live kind of far out of town, so we’re like on the edges of the paper,” she mused. “It’s for social studies. It shows where school is and the library and the post office and the museum and stuff.”
“Oh!” said Jimin. “I work for a museum!”
“How many dinosaurs are there?” Mina gasped, suddenly interested, eyes round.
“Well, there aren’t any at my museum,” he answered apologetically, sorry to disappoint her. “I work at a history museum. And I’m a teacher too – I teach history at a college.”
Just then Jungkook arrived back at their table, carrying Jimin’s plates and a plate full of triangle kimbap for Mina. “Here’s your snack and some juice for you,” he said as he put Mina’s food in front of her, adding, “and here’s yours, sweetie,” as he set Jimin’s plates in front of him. Of course, he’d had no intention whatsoever in any universe in any timeline under any circumstances to address this handsome stranger as “sweetie,” but it had come out of his mouth and here he was. Jimin looked up at him with a huge smile and began to giggle uncontrollably. He slumped sideways in the booth – the only thing that kept him even close to upright was the window.
“Thanks, honey,” he answered, watching Jungkook’s cheeks turn from pink to magenta.
“Oh my GOD,” exclaimed Jungkook, then turned and half-ran back to the kitchen. Jimin watched him go and noticed the chef also laughing. No one was glaring at him anymore – a nice development.
“So,” said Jimin to Mina, “I’m going to just put my coloring page of guinea pigs over here while I eat because I don’t want to mess it up with syrup or butter or anything.”
“Good plan,” she said around a mouthful of kimbap, bits of rice landing on her homework.
As Jimin ate, he frequently checked his phone between asking Mina the kinds of questions kids like to answer: How old are you? What grade are you in? Who is your favorite Avenger? Do you ever get tired of eating these pancakes because they are SO GOOD?
He was unable to bring himself to ask if her dad was single. But he really, really wanted to.
Mina worked diligently on her homework as she ate her kimbap and drank her juice. After each swallow of juice, she smacked her lips loudly and added an appreciative “Aahhh!”
Jimin’s phone buzzed with an incoming text message.
“Oh, no,” he said to himself. “Hmmm.”
“Whatsa matter?” asked Mina.
“It’s just my friend, the one I’m waiting for . . .”
Just then, Jungkook stopped at the table to pick up Jimin’s empty plates and heard Jimin finish his sentence: “. . . he has a car problem and he’s still far away. Hmm, I wonder if I should go pick him up.”
“Oh,” Jungkook said. “No, don’t do that. Don’t go.”
“Don’t go, Jimin!” Mina crowed. “You didn’t do your coloring yet!”
Jimin’s and Jungkook’s eyes met as they grinned at each other.
“She’s right,” Jungkook said. “She’s usually right. If you go pick up your friend, then his car will be stranded on the highway. Did he say what the problem is?”
“Hang on, I’ll call him,” Jimin answered. Jungkook listened as Jimin said, “Tae? Are you okay? What kind of problem is . . . Wait, what? Smoke? Hold on . . .”
He turned to Jungkook, who said, “We’re a garage, too, you know. We can send Hobi with the tow truck.”
“Uncle Hobi!!” squealed Mina, still scribbling away at her homework.
“Tae, we’re going to send a tow truck to pick you up and bring your car back here. What? Hang on, I’ll ask.”
Jimin looked up at Jungkook. “Can his dog ride in the tow truck with him?”
Jungkook laughed. “Sure, as long as it’s not like a pony.”
Jimin giggled. “Nothing like a pony. Barely a dog. Not far from a guinea pig.” He smiled at Mina as he said that.
Her head snapped up. “Daddy, can I meet the dog?”
“I don’t know, baby. Actually, it would be fine if it was an actual pony, I guess. What kind of jerk would leave a pony stranded on the highway? We need Uncle Hobi to figure out how long it will take to drive to Jimin’s friend’s car, hook it up, and drive it back. It might take a while, and we have to go home at the end of my shift. Jimin, can you ask your friend to send you his exact location?”
Jimin turned back to his phone. “Tae, you can bring Tannie. Send me a location marker, okay? Okay, I’ll call you back and let you know when Uncle Hobi will be there.” Pause while Jimin listened. “Yes, he’s very handsome.” Pause. “I don’t know. Call him ‘Uncle Hobi’ and see how he reacts. No, I’m not asking that. No. You ask him yourself. No. Listen, answer your phone if an unknown number calls, yeah?”
Jungkook was giggling as he listened. When Jimin hung up, he said, “You know, I really want to know what he asked, but I’m just going to clear your table and send Hobi to talk to you.”
“Good plan,” Jimin answered. “He can be a bit of a handful.”
When Hobi strode through the door toward Jimin’s table, Jimin’s jaw dropped a little. He’d seen “Uncle Hobi” through the sets of glass doors between the diner and the garage, but those glimpses hadn’t done him justice. Hobi’s walk was all swagger, liquid, confident. He was wearing mechanics’ overalls, but he wore them like he was on a runway at New York Fashion Week. Jimin’s mind flashed to all of the walk-on scenes he’d ever seen in movies and tried to fill in Hobi’s entrance music. As he approached, he flashed a brilliant smile at Jimin. What the hell is with this place? The chef is . . . The gift shop guy? What? And Jungkook? I would climb him like a tree and gnaw on his neck.
He looked at Mina and realized he was thinking deeply lustful thoughts about her father. But those thoughts just kept coming.
“Hi!” Hobi greeted him with a huge smile. “So, show me where I’m going.”
Jimin slid his phone toward Hobi with the map open. “Okay,” Hobi said. “That’s going to take me about 35 minutes to get there. Then about 15 to 20 minutes or so to get his car loaded, then 45 minutes back. I’ll have to take a look at it to see if Joon and I can fix it, if we have the parts in house. Do you know what make it is?”
Jimin twinkled at him. “It’s a Hyundai, of course.”
“We stock a fair amount of those parts, so we’ll see what we can do. But it’ll be about an hour and a half before he’s here. It’d be good to have his number in case I can’t find him.”
“He’s already a fan of Uncle Hobi,” Jimin said as he returned his phone with Tae's contact open to Hobi, who put the digits into his own phone.
“Bye!” he grinned. “See you all in a while. I’ll find you.”
“Yay!” Mina exclaimed. “We can finish coloring!”
Jimin and Mina continued busily coloring their guinea pigs while Jimin occasionally read off some random facts about guinea pig care and feeding from his phone. Jimin had chosen realistic colors, tan and ginger and brown, while Mina had chosen neon colors for hers. As Jimin and Mina chatted and colored, customers had been coming and going, picking up coffee and food to go, or staying and eating. Jimin had been sneaking glances at Jungkook as he worked, flitting around the diner, carrying plates and coffee pots and smiling at everyone, including occasional shy smiles at Jimin.
Jin startled them both when he approached their booth and said, “Mina, your dad’s shift is over soon.”
Mina turned to Jimin and asked, “Can you eat dinner at my house?”
“Oh!” he answered. “Well, I think that’s up to your dad. I can wait here for my friend – there’s food and I can get some work done, and I don’t want to impose . . .”
“You can pose,” she answered. “DADDY!”
Jungkook swooped over. He’d been doing his end-of-shift chores as the evening shift staff started filtering into the diner, tying on aprons and checking supplies. “Yes, baby? What’s up?”
“Jimin’s friend won’t be here for an hour, Uncle Hobi said. Can Jimin eat dinner with us?”
“I’m going to leave you to work this out,” said Jin with a wink and a smile to Jimin and a smirk to Jungkook.
Jungkook was left standing next to Mina and Jimin, who were both looking up at him.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind staying here to wait!” Jimin rushed to say. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Mina, because you’re my new friend. But I don’t want to impose on you, Jungkook.”
“I already said, you’re not posing,” Mina insisted. “Whatever that means.”
“How do you feel about having kimchijeon for dinner?” Jungkook asked. “It might not be quite as good as Uncle Yoongi’s, but it’s passable. And that way you can compare mine to Yoongi’s when you come back. If you come back.”
“I hate to show up to dinner empty-handed . . .” Jimin said with a small pout.
“You’re on the road, don’t worry about it,” Jungkook answered.
“Oh! I just happen to have a couple bottles of a very nice red wine in my car,” Jimin answered with a huge smile. “I like to be prepared for any emergency.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing an emergency occurred, eagle scout.”
Jimin and Mina each packed up their belongings as Jungkook made one last sweep through the diner to make sure the evening shift was all set.
“How far do you live, Mina?” Jimin asked.
“Just over there,” she answered, waving her small hand in the direction of the second compound of small houses.
“Oh! Short walk,” Jimin answered.
Jungkook appeared at the booth. “Ready, everyone?”
“Ummm,” said Jimin. “I never paid my check. For the food.”
“Oh, haha,” Jungkook answered. “The truckers who were here earlier covered it. They’re, ah, big fans of Mina.”
“Oh!” answered Jimin. “I hope they tipped you well for the excellent service.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Jungkook smiled.
The three of them walked out of the diner, and Jungkook and Mina waited as Jimin ran to his car to fetch the wine. Then the trio walked toward the cluster of small homes. The whole area was fenced in with welded wire fencing, and Jimin quickly figured out why. A couple of chickens ran to greet them as they entered through the gate, and Mina stooped to pet them gently.
“Daddy, do we have any blueberries?”
“I think so, baby. Let’s check in the fridge after you put your backpack away.” He turned to Jimin as they walked and added, “I hope you’re ready to feed some chickens, because I don’t think Mina is going to let you out of her sight until bedtime.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” laughed Jimin. “Do you keep them for the eggs?”
“Oh, haha, no,” answered Jungkook. “These ladies are rescue chickens. They don’t lay eggs anymore, at least not regularly or often.”
“Rescue chickens?” Jimin asked.
“Yes, Namjoon loves animals and there’s a farm sanctuary a few miles from here, and the people who run it eat at our diner sometimes. One thing led to another . . .”
By this time, Mina had led the way to a little blue cottage with a front porch that faced away from the diner, toward the sunset. There were two rocking chairs and a porch swing.
“Oh, this looks like heaven,” sighed Jimin. “So peaceful.”
“Sometimes we hear the trucks on the highway, but it’s usually pretty quiet,” Jungkook said.
He opened the door to the cottage and Jimin followed Mina inside. After pulling off her boots, she ran to her bedroom with her backpack, returned immediately, and went into the kitchen to look for blueberries. She clearly found some if her triumphant yell of “BLUEBERRIES!” was an accurate indicator. She ran back to the front door, handed Jimin a plastic container, and wiggled her boots back on, telling him to follow her.
The chickens clearly knew the routine because they were waiting on the porch. The two who had greeted them had been joined by a third, a pretty, red bird. They milled around Mina’s feet, clucking softly as she pulled the container from Jimin’s hands and opened it.
“Watch!” she said to Jimin.
“I’m watching!” he answered. Mina tossed a small handful of berries down the porch and the chickens scattered after the bouncing berries, clucking and flapping. When they’d found and eaten every berry, they came back to Mina, and the whole thing repeated itself until the container was empty.
When they went back into the cottage, the smell of savory cooking drifted from the kitchen. Mina disappeared again and Jimin, left alone in the small, tidy living room, settled onto the couch, looking around at the photos that covered most of the wall space. His phone rang: Tae.
“Hey, what’s going on? Where are you? Is Hobi there yet?” Pause. “I know! I had a similar reaction.” Pause. “Well, we’ll have to talk about it. We’re off schedule, but since we made the schedule, I think it’s okay for us to adjust it.” Pause. “We planned a few days at that library, so . . .” Pause. “Actually, I’m having dinner with one of the owners of the diner and his daughter.” Pause. “Yes, very. Hobi will bring you here when you get here, I think.” Pause. “I’ll see you soon and it will all be okay.”
Jimin hung up and stood to look more closely at the photos, many of them black and white, most of them featuring Mina at various ages. He heard sizzling and chopping from the kitchen and wandered in that direction. He found Jungkook bent over with his head in the refrigerator as he rummaged around. He couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate Jungkook’s physique from that angle. Jungkook stood up quickly, realizing Jimin had entered the room and caught his gaze. Jimin’s cheeks grew pink and he asked, “Oh, do you want me to open the wine?” to try to cover his embarrassment at being caught checking out Jungkook’s ass. Jungkook smirked at him and nodded, pulling a corkscrew from a drawer and handing it to Jimin.
Jimin uncorked the bottle while Jungkook fetched two wine glasses. “Oh, wait a second,” Jimin said after pouring one glass. “Is there a hotel near here? I don’t know when Taehyung will get here, and we have motel reservations in Silver City, but we’re not going to make it there tonight . . . It’s not worth driving that far in the dark. Lots of deer, unfamiliar roads . . . Anyway, I don’t want to drink if I’m going to drive.”
“There is a small motel, about 3 miles west of here. They’ll definitely have vacancies.”
“What? Are you sending us to the Bates Motel? That hotel from The Shining? Exactly how haunted is it?”
Jungkook laughed. “No, I just meant it’s not near town. It’s nice. The owners are good people.” He paused. “I wouldn’t send you someplace that wasn’t nice.”
Jimin smiled. “Okay, good.”
“Buuuut,” started Jungkook, sounding a bit unsure. “You can, you know, stay here if you want to. The couch folds out and is pretty comfortable. And that way, you can drink wine, and we can actually talk after Mina’s asleep. I mean, I know you color pretty well, but I’d like to maybe know more?”
“Seriously, I don’t want to impose, plus my friend Tae will be here, and . . . So, you really think I color well?”
“You’re not ‘posing,’” Jungkook laughed, echoing Mina’s assertion. “And there’s five of us here, and we all have spare beds. The biggest house, the yellow one, is a converted bunkhouse, so there’s plenty of room. We’re thinking of maybe turning it into a B & B at some point. Building our empire. Plus, if I know Hobi, he’ll have already invited Tae to stay anyway. Plus plus, he can bunk with you on the couch if he’s not comfortable staying with someone he just met.” He took the bottle of wine from Jimin as he spoke and filled the second glass, handing it to Jimin. “And you color very well. Nice shading. Excellent technique.”
“Well. Taehyung is not, ah, an introvert, is an accurate way to say it, I think. He might have already invited himself to stay by the time they get here.” He took a healthy sip. “Mmm, that is nice.”
“Okay! Mina! Are you ready to eat supper?”
“Yes, Daddy!” she called from somewhere down the hall. “Can I bring Jupiter to the table to eat with us?”
“Yes, baby!” he called back. “Oh, let’s get the table set,” he added to himself.
“Oh, let me do it!” said Jimin. “I want to do something to help.” He took plates, chopsticks, and flatware from Jungkook and set three places at the small kitchen table. He set his and Jungkook’s glasses of wine at two of the places.
Mina came barreling into the kitchen, holding a small potted plant in her hands. She stopped in front of Jimin, holding out the plant. “This is Jupiter! I’ve had him for almost a month and he’s grown 2 inches and he wants me to have guinea pigs!” She set the plant on the table, fussing over its position, turning it a quarter of a turn until she was satisfied. “He likes it when I sing to him.”
“Did you finish your homework, baby?” Jungkook asked her.
“Yes, Daddy! I did it at the diner with Jimin. Then when we all got home, I watered Jupiter and played with toys for a while.”
“Okay, dinner is just about ready . . .” Jungkook started setting banchan on the table, then scooped rice out of the rice cooker, then turned back to the stove to grab the pan of kimchijeon.
“Banana milk!” declared Mina.
“Say please,” answered Jungkook.
“Oh, sorry. Please. I was just too excited to have manners.”
“Just a second, baby,” Jungkook said as he slid some of the pancake onto each plate.
“I’ll get it,” offered Jimin. “Cups?”
Jungkook gestured toward a cabinet. Jimin grabbed a Totoro cup and opened the refrigerator. There was a sizable supply of banana milk. He filled the cup and set it at Mina’s place.
“Okay!” said Jungkook. “I think that’s everything. Let’s eat!”
As they ate, Jimin mostly listened to the chatter between Jungkook and Mina, although Mina would often turn the conversation his way. She was fascinated to learn that in Switzerland, it’s illegal to own only one guinea pig. They are social animals and need close companionship. They suffer with loneliness when they’re kept alone. Without realizing he was doing it, Jimin’s eyes flicked over to meet and hold Jungkook’s as he shared that bit of rodent trivia. Jungkook refilled each of their wine glasses until the bottle was empty.
When their plates were empty, Jungkook said, “Make yourself at home. I need to get Mina into the bath and ready for bed.”
“Ah, okay,” said Jimin. “While you do that, I’ll do the dishes? That’s what I’d do at home.”
“Gratefully accepted,” smiled Jungkook.
“Oh, and I need to run to my car to grab my bag. Or can I just move it back here? I’m sure it’s safe there, but there are a couple of boxes of documents in it that would be almost impossible to replace.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
As Jungkook and Mina headed for the tub, Jimin moved his car and brought in his bag. Then he rolled up his sleeves and started scrubbing dishes and wiping counters and sweeping. All the while he could hear Jungkook and Mina going through their bedtime routine – singing together while Mina played in the bathtub (Jimin was stunned by Jungkook’s clear, full tenor as he harmonized with Mina’s joyous high voice), talking about what would happen tomorrow and how to be ready for it (“You’re a good speller, baby, but I just want you to do your best”), picking out an outfit (this took a while as many options were worked through), making sure homework was in backpack. Mina asked more than once if “Uncle Jimin” would be there in the morning. He couldn’t hear Jungkook’s low, murmured response, but felt a warmth bloom in his chest at the question.
He finished in the kitchen before Jungkook finished getting Mina in bed, so he opened the second bottle of wine, poured a glass, and went to sit on the porch and watch the sunset paint the sky. He was rocking gently in the porch swing as he saw Taehyung walking toward the porch, Tannie tucked under his arm.
“TAE!” he whisper-yelled, launching himself off the porch and into Tae’s embrace in his free arm. “Are you okay? I assumed you were in good hands when I didn’t hear from you – was I right? Is your car here? Did you eat? How’s my nephew?”
Tae laughed and Jimin felt that deep, familiar rumble in Tae’s chest. “Let’s see – I’m okay, I’m not sure what to say about ‘good hands’ – maybe later and I hope so? My car is in the garage – Hobi and Joonie think they can fix it in the morning, I did eat at the diner, and as you can see, Yeontan is his usual perfect self. I don’t want to put him down because chickens are just tiny dinosaurs and who knows what would happen. Also, how are you? Did you already crack into our emergency wine supply? Your cheeks are very pretty and pink.”
At just that moment, Jungkook came outside and smiled as he watched the reunion. He walked toward the two and introduced himself to Taehyung. “Hi, glad to meet you. I’ve heard just a bit about you. I’m Jungkook.”
Tae shook Jungkook’s hand, then turned to Jimin and gave him a theatrical, exaggerated wink. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done for us – helping with the tow truck, sending me a gorgeous knight in denim armor, welcoming my Jiminie into your home . . .”
“Are you all set for accommodations?” Jungkook asked. “You can join Jimin on my couch if –”
He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence as Taehyung laughed again. “No, I’m fine. I’m not sure exactly where I’m sleeping yet, but I’ll be perfectly fine.”
“Did I hear you refer to Namjoon as ‘Joonie’? I’m jealous,” Jimin teased.
“Well,” said Taehyung, as he saw Namjoon coming toward them carrying Tae’s suitcase, “I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll meet you tomorrow in the diner, 9:00 a.m., to rework our schedule. We might have to switch to your car.”
“It’s a date,” laughed Jimin.
Jungkook and Jimin watched Tae and Namjoon walk toward a cottage that was very similar to Jungkook’s, but subtly different, more modern in style.
Jungkook turned to Jimin and gestured toward the porch swing. “Join me? The sunset lasts a long time out here – the sky stays light for a while.”
As they walked back toward the swing, Jimin saw that Jungkook had brought his own glass and the rest of the bottle of wine. They settled into the swing and Jungkook began pushing it very slowly back and forth. They stayed in comfortable silence for a few minutes, breathing in the night air.
“So,” Jungkook eventually broke the silence, “tell me more about what you and Tae are doing. Mina said something about a museum and dinosaurs?”
Jimin chuckled. “She probably said something about a boring museum with no dinosaurs. When I told her I work at a museum, she immediately asked about the dinosaurs. I felt terrible having to tell her that we have no T. rex. Not one velociraptor.”
Jungkook smiled and shook his head. Mina was anything but disappointed with Jimin.
“Tae and I work at a small museum attached to a small university. We’re historians on a research mission. We’re looking for primary sources about a few individuals who were among the first Korean immigrants to the US. When you look at the history of Asians in the US, it’s dominated by the mass importation of Chinese workers to work on the railroads and gold mines. That’s all true, but there were some Koreans who were here, too. If you investigate when Koreans began immigrating to the US, most resources say that it began when Koreans went to Hawai’i to work on pineapple plantations, but that’s mass immigration.”
As Jimin spoke, he became more and more animated, more and more passionate, punctuating his words with gestures. It was very captivating (according to Jungkook, who had a hard time looking away – or would have if he’d tried).
“So we’re going to a lot of small, local museums as well as university archives to look for primary source evidence of a few specific Korean individuals who were here in the 1700s and 1800s. We got a grant to write a . . . Oh, shit. CRAP!”
“What?” asked Jungkook, eyes wide. “What happened? Did you spill? Is there a snake?”
“Oh, no!” Jimin laughed. “I just realized what a boring nerd I am. I’m so so sorry. Let’s talk about something else. Do you watch K-dramas? How long have you all known each other? Should I worry about Tae? You have a lovely singing voice. And such an amazing daughter.”
Jungkook refilled both of their glasses, emptying the bottle. “Listen,” he said.
Jimin waited for him to finish his thought, then realized that he had. There was a low hum of tires from the highway, but overlaid on that was the music of crickets, toads, lizards, and cicadas, all most likely looking to pass along their genetic material to future generations. Desert animals, talking, singing, living. The cicada chorus drifted back and forth, from tree to tree. Just then, a long, low howl of a coyote wafted through the cooling night air.
“Feel calmer now?” asked Jungkook after a moment. “You’re not a boring nerd. We all watch K-dramas. We’ve known each other literally forever. And now we know you and Tae. And my daughter is . . . everything.”
“Thank you,” whispered Jimin. “She is. Are there really a lot of snakes here? Also, I love snakes and I’m not afraid of them. Seriously. If you see one, I want to know.”
They sat that way for a long time, watching the sky fade and fireflies flicker and meteors flash, listening to the night music, rocking gently in the porch swing, stealing sidelong glances at each other, feeling the pull.
Eventually, Jimin asked Jungkook about the business, how the five of them came to be here, now, at this place and time, with their specific mix of skills. They talked forever, but not nearly long enough. Finally, Jimin said, “What time do you need to be up? I know you prep for the morning, but it will be here way too soon.”
“Yeah,” sighed Jungkook. “I do have to get up early every day, without fail, and make sure Mina is dressed and fed and has a good lunch and gets on the bus with her homework done. It’s . . . a lot.” Pause. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But it’s late. But I don’t want to go to bed. I want to keep talking.”
For Jungkook, the last sentence, those five words, felt like the world. It was hard to say them. It was risky. It felt too open, too vulnerable, and he hadn’t said them to anyone in a long time. But he said them to Jimin anyway.
“Yeah,” answered Jimin. “I do too. Want to keep talking. But, you know what? We can.”
The moment was heavy, filled with indefinable destinies, an unknowable future. They sat in silence, the swing creaking back and forth, for a while. Somehow, some way, their hands eventually touched. Pinkie to pinkie, then fingers to fingers, then palm to palm.
“So,” Jimin said eventually. “I think I could happily live here, forever, on your porch, watching the sun set and the night sky, listening to the night chorus. But tomorrow morning, I will wake up and meet Tae and we’ll have some amazing pancakes for breakfast, and we’ll get into my car and drive to a tiny museum in the tiny town of Smithville to talk to the two very elderly retired teachers who run it. They have a diary from the 1800s written in Hangul in their archive! They’ve never had it translated. Then we’re going to more places. But we have to come back to pick up Tae’s car once Uncle Hobi has it fixed.”
“Mmhmm,” replied Jungkook.
“And our whole itinerary, five weeks of it, is planned around a hub in Franklin. But there’s no reason why we couldn’t maybe remap it around another hub. If, you know, a better hub came along. A hub that might want to see us a lot over the next few weeks? I mean, if such a hub existed and thought this was a good idea.”
“What would a hub like this have to do to let you know you should draw a new map?” breathed Jungkook, his face very close to Jimin’s.
“I feel like maybe if a hub like that maybe kissed me it would let me know –“
Jimin’s whispered sentence was interrupted by the gentle press of Jungkook’s lips against his own. Jimin reached up to caress Jungkook’s neck, then ran his hand through the mass of thick curls at the back of his head. When the kiss broke, they stayed very close, feeling one another’s breath and warmth. The second kiss was less chaste, hungrier. Jungkook ran the tip of his tongue across Jimin’s lips, which were immediately opened to allow him access.
When this one finally broke, Jimin leaned his forehead against Jungkook’s and whispered, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay with Tae if we remap our trip.”
“I hate to say it,” Jungkook began.
“Yeah, morning, work, Mina,” Jimin finished. “Those are all important things. So I’ll go ahead and fold out that couch and get washed up for the evening.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Jungkook breathed. “Sleep as late as you need to, but we might wake you up in the morning. Sorry.”
Jimin heard Mina and Jungkook getting ready in the morning, but immediately fell back asleep. His phone alarm awakened him at 7:30, when he found himself alone in the small house. He showered, dressed, and folded up the couch, tidying the rest of the room. Before he left, he found some paper and markers and left a note for Mina on her pillow, telling her he’d see her again soon, featuring a cartoon-y drawing of two guinea pigs and a heart. Then he stowed his bag in his car and drove his car the 50 yards to the diner’s parking lot. He noticed Tae’s Hyundai up on the lifter, Hobi and Namjoon standing beneath it, staring up at its innards, poking at things.
He thought he would beat Tae to the diner, but he was already there, sitting in Mina’s booth, laptop open, looking refreshed and energetic. Yeontan was in his small carrier, taking one of his many daily naps.
“Jiminie!” Tae said as Jimin slid into the seat across from him. “I waited for you to order. Did you know this place is Yelp famous for the hot men who run it?”
“No,” Jimin laughed. “But that’s not at all surprising, is it? So listen . . .”
Just then Jungkook swooped in, looking insanely handsome, his eyes extra sparkly. “Good morning, gentlemen! Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“Ah, tea, please,” said Jimin, looking up at Jungkook with a gaze that could safely be described as “smitten.”
“Chocolate milk, please,” said Tae. “Coffee is terrible.”
“Are you hungry this morning?” Jungkook asked with a lopsided grin.
“I am!” declared Tae.
“Would you be okay with Yoongi just free-styling some breakfast for you?”
“Hell, yeah,” answered Jimin. “Chef’s tasting menu for us!”
Jungkook looked over his shoulder toward the pass-through at Yoongi, who seemed to be waiting for a signal. Jungkook gave a thumbs up to Yoongi, who smiled a huge smile and spun away to begin their breakfasts. “Be right back,” Jungkook said as he went back for their drinks.
When he returned, he saw that Jimin and Tae had a laptop open to a map and were referring to some notes and outlines and a calendar on the other laptop. They were engrossed in their discussion but paused briefly to beam at him when he brought their drinks and flatware.
Soon after, he returned with an armful of steaming plates and a pitcher of warm syrup. Tae and Jimin both gasped (actually, Tae sort of shrieked) when they saw the towers of golden, fluffy Japanese souffle pancakes surrounded by mounds of mixed berries and dollops of whipped cream. On the side, there were smaller dishes of bacon and fried potatoes. They stared from their plates up to Jungkook’s huge grin to Yoongi’s smile through the window.
“Here you go, sweetie,” said Jungkook, cheeks and ears pink.
“Thanks, honey,” answered Jimin, giggling again.
“Did I miss something?” Tae asked with a smile.
“These look aMAZing,” said Jimin to Jungkook. “Please thank Yoongi for us.”
Jungkook winked and did finger guns at them, then was off to take a order from another table.
By 10:00 a.m., their new route was charted, Tae had gotten an update of the status of his car, Tannie had been walked, and they were ready to go, with plans to return in five days for two writing/research days. Then they’d head out again for another leg. Jimin had taken a selfie of himself with Yeontan, which he’d sent to Jungkook to show to Mina.
Tae was settled into the passenger seat with Yeontan on his lap when Jungkook came out to say a quick goodbye.
“I’m sorry I’m so rushed, but I promise, next time there’ll be a longer goodbye,” Jungkook said.
“And maybe a longer hello,” answered Jimin.
“Yeah, that too,” laughed Jungkook.
“Tell Mina I’m sorry I missed her, but I’ll see her again soon, okay?” said Jimin.
“Oh! That reminds me. She left you a note.” Jungkook dug a crumped piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Jimin.
It was a picture drawn with markers of two tall people and one smaller one, with some brightly colored blobs on the ground and a huge yellow sun in the sky. There was a variety of letters strewn about the page too.
“Those are the guinea pigs,” Jungkook said, pointing to the blobs. “You can figure out the rest.”
Jimin felt a pang of something in his chest, something he’d later describe to Tae as “a sort of nostalgia for something I’d never had.” He looked up at Jungkook, who was smiling down at him.
“Oh,” said Jungkook. “I guess you enjoyed those pancakes, huh? You’ve got a little drip of syrup right – “ He pointed to a spot next to Jimin’s lips, then leaned over and kissed the syrup away.
The kiss lasted only seconds, but when they pulled apart, they heard a burst of cheering coming from the open door of the diner as well as the garage. Hobi, Jin, Namjoon, and even Yoongi were at the windows, watching, as were the regulars, all wearing huge smiles.
“Let’s give them something to really celebrate,” whispered Jimin, leaning back in for one last kiss goodbye.