Page 54 of Wish Upon a K-Star

“Eonni, are you thirsty?” Sohee asks, coming over to me. I suppose she’s my sole wedding guest.

I nod enthusiastically. But before Sohee can deliver, Minseok is there with a cup.

“Here,” he says.

“I can do it,” I start to say, but when I lift my hands, my long sleeves cover them.

“It’ll be faster if you just let me help you.” Minseok doesn’t wait for a reply. He just cups my chin and lifts the water to my lips. His fingers are firm but gentle as they hold me in place. And our eyes meet over the metal rim of the cup.

I’m glad for the material covering my hands now as they involuntarily clench into fists.

“Hello, my daughter!”

I almost spit out the water as Hyejun escorts my mother in.

Her bright red cocktail dress sparkles as she sashays over to me.

I know I should say something. Or at least smile. But my brain feels like it’s malfunctioning; what is she doing here?

Mom takes care of it for me. Stepping forward with a bright smile she wraps me in a hug that suffocates me with all the layers between us. When her smooth cheek brushes against mine, she whispers, “Close your mouth, you look like you’re trying to catch flies.”

I do as I’m told, but I’m still not fully processing this.

“I—I can’t believe you’re here,” I stutter and hope to god that it reads as excitement to see my long-distance mother.

She must read my hesitancy because her smile drops before she pulls me into another forced hug. “I had to come. It’s my daughter’s wedding.”

I let out a surprised laugh at hearing my mom say those words.

Mom scowls—clearly this was not the reaction she wanted from me.

To make up for it, I force a bright smile. “I just can’t believe you came.”

She laughs. “How could you doubt I’d be here on such an important day?”

I’m saved from forcing a fake answer as one of the attendants comes over to direct her to sit behind the table with Hyejun for the pyebaek.

The decorations in here include a large Korean folding screen painted with soft watercolors of trees and cranes. Mom and Hyejun settle behind a low table set in front. It’s covered in a blue-and-red cloth. Wooden and brass stands hold towers of chestnuts and ginkgo nuts, dried meats, and dates. There are two giant dried fish laid across the table.

The cameras start rolling and the attendant explains the pyebaek for the audience.

This part of the ceremony is when the family throws dates and chestnuts at us to decide how many kids we’ll have. I eye the stacks of at least three dozen of each sitting on the table. I really hope it’s not meant to be a literal count.

My mom tosses a gentle handful, but Hyejun has a glint in his eyes as he loads up two giant handfuls and lobs them at us. I let out a small scream as I recoil from baby-blessing projectiles. Minseok catches me before I roll back like a turtle on its shell. But even when I’m steady again, his arm stays comfortably around my shoulders.

“Careful, Hyejun-ah, you might go bankrupt buying gifts for all these nieces and nephews,” Minseok jokes.

I force myself to smile along. I can see that my mom is watching me, stony-faced. She’s not happy about something. And I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.

An attendant hands me a fresh date.

I’m about to eat it when the woman stops me. “It’s not for eating. You have to hold it in your mouth and your husband will bite into the other side.”

I almost choke at the word “husband.”

“Um, what part of the ceremony is this?” I ask to cover my awkwardness.

“You two have to see who gets the seed. They will be the boss in the relationship,” the attendant explains.

---