How To Lose A Girl In Ten Days (Chaennie)

Chapter 7

They take an early morning ferry ride on Saturday, bringing Jennie's bike along to get from the docks to Jennie's family home. It's not a long ride but Rosie enjoys sitting close to Jennie probably more than she should. Despite everything, she's nervous about meeting Jennie's family. Mino, she'd met at the poker game and she talked to John on the phone, but there was a world of difference between that and walking into the place where Jennie grew up.

The Kim residence is an older two story house in a quiet neighborhood. A man one house down, watering the flowers in his front yard, waves to Jennie as she kills the engine and takes her helmet off. There's several cars in the driveway, spilling out into street parking.

"Whole gang's here," Jennie mutters under her breath. She seems nervous too.

Rosie grabs her bag from the back of the bike and takes Jennie's hand when she offers it.

"Ready?"

Rosie's not, but she nods anyway. She reminds herself that she's good with people, that she enjoys meeting new people, that she shouldn't feel this overwhelming need to make a good impression on Jennie's family. This isn't real, this is all pretend. The words sound hollow the moment she thinks them.

Once inside, they're accosted almost at once by two little boys, crowding Jennie, calling her 'Auntie' and asking a million questions. Jennie just laughs and fends them off. An older woman comes out of the kitchen, hollering for the boys to go upstairs.

"Aunt Mia," Jennie says, embracing the woman.

"Jennie." The woman is a bit stiff and formal, but still warm, looking at Jennie with obvious affection. "And who's this?"

Jennie steps to the side so Mia can see Rosie properly and introduces her.

Mia only offers a hand for Rosie to shake instead of a hug, but Rosie takes it. "It's very nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Oh, she's polite," Mia says, amused. She swats Jennie's arm. "Maybe she can teach you some manners."

"Hey, I am a perfect gentlewomen," Jennie protests. They follow Mia into the living room where another woman nearly identical to Mia is sitting, bouncing a baby in her lap.

Jennie introduces her as her Aunt Gia, Mia's sister and mother of "the two little hellions" they met earlier. They make polite small talk for a moment before the older women excuse themselves to tend to the baby.

Rosie gets up and wanders around the living room, examining all the little affects the Kims have scattered about. It's obviously a well lived-in home. There's scuffs on the wall, paint peeling in places, outdated furniture and decor, but it's pleasant and welcoming. A family lives here. Very different from her mother's sterile, hyper-modern house in DC.

The walls are full of framed photos, spanning decades. Graduation photos, chubby faced babies, candid and posed family pictures alike. It's hard to tell where the immediate and extended family divide.

She finds the ones of Jennie quickly, recognizing a couple as the ones John sent her. One has a tiny Jennie, no older than five, hands planted proudly on hips, a red blanket tied around her neck. The Little Commander is handwritten on the matting surrounding the photo inside the frame. Rosie bites her lip at how adorable the picture is.

"This is my father," Jennie says, directing Rosie's attention away from the embarrassing childhood photos. She's pointing to a military headshot, a handsome young man in formal Marine dress. He has the same stoic, gray eyes as Jennie, the same narrow face; Rosie might've guessed they were related anyway.

"He joined the Marines at eighteen. Met my mother at a base in Germany. She was an Air Force pilot." She points to another photo of a military wedding with both bride and groom in formal military attire. "Had me a year later. We moved around to a couple different bases across Europe, up until I was about five when they were both killed in a car accident."