Re Jane by Patricia Park Read Free Book Online Page B

American.”
    â€œAmerican!”
    â€œUncle:
I’m
half American.”
    Sang looked stunned, as if the words had hit him square in the face—furious that I’d brought up the side of me he’d been trying all these years to forget.
    He reached a point where the English language could no longer contain his uncontrollable emotion, where he had no choice but to switch over to Korean.
“Do you want to end up like your mother?”
    On any other day, the invocation of my mother would have had the power to cut right through me, making me shrivel with shame. But that evening was different. I was going to leave Sang’s house forever, and now his words flew past me. In my head I was already bolting through the door and out on the street. I was already on the Q13 to Main Street, then down to the subway platform, bound for the next 7 train stuttering out of Flushing.

Chapter 6
The Mazer-Farley Household: A Primer
    I wasn’t even one foot in the door when Beth folded me into her arms, overwhelming me with her particular aroma. “Welcome! Jane, you have no idea how happy we are.”
    â€œThank you for hiring me,” I said. The words felt stiff; I had no natural vocabulary for receiving compliments.
    Beth surveyed my clothes. “Don’t you look nice today! Doesn’t she, Ed?” she said. I was wearing dress slacks, a button-down shirt, and sensible heels. Her husband didn’t look over at me, though. “But . . . wouldn’t you rather change into something more comfortable?”
Dress for the job you
want,
not the job you have,
they taught us in the Career Services office. I wasn’t about to show up on my first day in the kinds of clothes I wore at Food.
    Devon pushed her mother out of the way. “Jane!” she cried. “Your room’s next to mine. I’ll show you!” She tugged my hand, leading me toward the stairs, but Ed Farley stopped her. “Later, kiddo. She just walked through the door.”
    â€œCome
on,
Daddy.” Devon used that same pleading tone Mary used when cajoling her father, the same tone I’d once tried, too, but it only made Sang snap, “Why you act like baby?”
    â€œOh, come on, Ed.” It was Beth who spoke. They exchanged a private look—I could see only Ed’s expression, and he looked exasperated.
    As Devon bounded up the stairs with me in tow, I heard him mutter to his wife, “You know you’re spoiling her.”
    Upstairs we stopped at a door marked DEVON XIAO NU MAZER-FAR LEY with Chinese characters below. “Xiao Nu’s my Chinese name,” Devon explained, tracing the lettering across the paper sign.
    â€œWe wanted to honor the name Devon was given at her orphanage,” Beth explained. “It’s the closest connection we have to . . . to . . .” She faltered.
    Ed looked uncomfortable at his wife’s outburst, but then he placed a hand on her back. Beth had a strange expression on her face—I swore it looked like entitlement. If I were her, I’m certain I would have stared up at Ed Farley with grateful eyes instead.
    â€œAnd that’s your room!” Devon said suddenly, pointing to the room next to hers, marked JANE RE . Below my name was handwritten Korean
lettering. “We looked it up on the computer,” Devon announced. As a child I took Korean lessons after Sunday school, and though my Korean wasn’t strong, even to my eyes the letters looked misshapen—I could tell that all the strokes were in the wrong order.
    â€œYou did a
wonderful
job, sweetie,” Beth said, now recovered from her earlier emotional slip. “How
thoughtful
of you to welcome Jane in both English
and
Korean.”
    Now Ed Farley
was
looking at me. He raised his eyebrows as if to say,
Your turn next.
    â€œWow, thanks, Devon. This is so . . . thoughtful,” I said stiffly, repeating Beth’s word. It seemed I