Flours For You | ✓

17 | go get your girl

"Not exactly," I replied, my voice trailing off towards the end. "I rented out a new apartment, though."

My mother tilted her head, the messy bun on top of her head following in motion. "Eodi? Where?"

I shook my hands with much force, the droplets of water flailing. In Korea."

"Seo Jin Ae!" she exclaimed with urgency in her tone as she rose up from her seat in a flustered frenzy. "What did you do?"

"Relax, umma. Mom. The casting director for Fake it Until You Bake It called to offer me a role on their show."

"Eomeo. Oh my! I love that show!" my mother threw her arms up in the air, a huge smile plastered on her face.

I turned my back towards my mother as I leaned my body over to select the pre-heating option for the oven. I got on my toes and flung open the cupboard doors, grabbing a mixing bowl. Spinning back around with my main tool in hand, I set the bowl on the counter and started measuring out the dry ingredients. "Does it look like something I'd like?"

"I think so," my mother firmly answered as she stared at my motions.

"You have nothing to say about it?" My chin lifted up to gape at her, bewildered by the feeling of terror in my eyes and the lack of it in her's. Knowing a part of me didn't really wanna hear it, I diverted my eyes back down and towards the set of drawers near my hip length. I opened the one with most of our kitchen utensils and took out two metal forks because God forbid my parents who are bakers, to have an actual pastry cutter.

"Nope." She shrugged her shoulders and continued scrolling aimlessly on her phone.

"Wow, that's a first," I scoffed. I gripped onto the forks, one in each hand, while strategically cutting through the cold butter in the bowl. You're always overly critical about well, everything."

"I don't have an opinion on anything Korean. We're the best at well, everything."

A harsh sound of laugher tumbled out of my mouth as I added the other dry ingredients.

"What I mean," my mother backtracked, setting down her phone onto the table and setting her attention back to me, "is that I have no complaints whatsoever. Especially that show. It's funny, light-hearted, and they always have a lot of jal saeng-gin, handsome guests on the show!"

"Oh...I see why you like it now," I gently teased, pointing my fork in her direction.

"Well, that's not the only reason."

"Whatever, mom. The first thing you loved about East was his looks, huh?"

"Daehyun is a good man. That's why I like him," she said with furrowed brows.

"You barely know him. Heck, I don't even really know him all that well." I sighed dejectedly, dropping the used forks into the sink.

My mother gave me a pointed look along with the curious raise of her thinly brushed eyebrow. "I'd like to think I know him fairly well. Enough that I can see how terribly in love with you he is."

"And how would you know that exactly?"

"I'm married, Jin Ae," she declared flatly, "Also, I've been in love like you two hormonal kids before too."

"Okay, let's not go there umma, mom. I'm almost twenty-four. I do not need to have the sex talk with you. You missed that opportunity a long time ago," I explained, dragging out the word "long" for extra emphasis.