How I Found Love in Bangkok

Chapter Seventeen

SCENT OF HOME

"Po!" I called, stepping into the house. The front door was never locked during the day just like most homes in the neighborhood, in case a neighbor needed something spice, detergent, wrapper, it didn't really matter. It had been that way since I was a kid. I placed my bag down on one of the seats in the Parlor. "Po!" I continued into the house.

I grew up in a very traditional home. Ninety percent of the house was built with deep brown wood. Po and Mae both shared a deep passion for tradition, and it poured into the home they built when they began their beautiful life together. Every room in the house is spread out with wide wooden windows that let in the softest warm breeze.

The wood furniture that filled the house all aged like fine wine. Every dent, scratch, discoloration, were evidence of the wholesome, colorful childhood I was blessed with. An antique haven, surrounded by tall trees, accompanied by the pleasant sound of chirping birds and the fresh smell of tasty northern meals. I was home and it felt like it.

"Kittisat!" Mae called from outside and I rushed to the backyard.

"Mae!"

My heart gladdened and my face lit up. I bowed and fell to my knees, hugging her. She sat on a low stool, drying out vegetables just like she'd done since I was a boy. She sniffed me all over, rising to her feet and lifting me along, squeezing me tight in her embrace.

"What is this?" She held my cheeks up. "You're so skinny!"

"Mae!"

"I told you Bangkok will suck the life right out of you." She smiled.

"Kit!" Po called and I turned around. His arms were wide open as he walked out of the poultry farm. I ran into his embrace without hesitation. He swayed me, squeezing me.

Po's affection is overflowing and loud, he isn't afraid to smother you. It was a bit suffocating growing up. But then, I learnt to let him cycle out. Just like Mae, he complained about the skinny appearance I didn't even know I had. We strolled back to Mae, my hands around his shoulders while he grilled me about not visiting often.

"I'm glad you're home, I've been meaning to fix the cracked fence at the back," Po commented, squeezing my shoulder. "We will do it together, Hmm?"

I nodded with a big grin. Nong Ratana, Po and I were the designated fixers growing up. A broken door, we fixed it. A cracked wooden step, we fixed it. We built the little chicken farm house together; I still have the bruise on my elbow I got from mixing cement. Po and I spent hours on the roof too, fixing things, talking about things, looking at things. His love for woodwork nurtured my love for designing buildings.

"Tell your father I already called a carpenter for the fence," Mae said.

"Po is right here," I replied. Mae glared at me and I turned to Po with an awkward smile. "M... Mae said she already called a carpenter."

"Please tell your mother I do not trust the work of her so-called carpenters."

I squinted at Po, rocked with confusion. He cleared his throat, rolling his eyes at me. I turned to Mae.

"Mae, Po said he doesn't trust your carpenter."

"Tell your father I don't care about his trust. If he won't go to the hospital and check his back, he isn't touching that fence."

"Po, Mae said... wait, what's wrong with your back?"

"Tell your mother I said I will fix that fence, come rain, come sunshine."