Page 106 of Heart and Seoul (Seoul 1)

My life is full of questions and there are no answers. For now, the only thing I am certain of is this—

ME: I miss you too

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Mom arrives from the hotel first thing in the morning. I go out to the gate to let her in. She holds up a prettily wrapped box with strawberries on the paper cover. “These were sitting outside. The box has your name on it but I also brought breakfast.”

There’s a forlorn note in her voice as if she is anticipating my rejection of her gift. “Come in. I think the strawberry pastries are from Yujun.”

“Yujun? Who is she?”

Oh God, I didn’t even think about explaining Yujun to my mom. Hey, so I hooked up with a guy from Seoul and he happens to be Wansu’s sort of adopted son. Crazy how that works? Keeping it all in the family! Yes, I’m super dysfunctional!

Mom would haul me to the airport before I could take another breath.

We barely clear the threshold when Ellen hits me with a curveball. “I think we should both meet Wansu together.” I stumble on the shoes and Ellen has to catch me by the elbow. “It’s the right thing to do. Let’s face her together.”

“Face her? What did she do wrong?”

Ellen’s face grows tight. “So you’ve decided I’m the villain.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. I’m not trying to leave you, Mom. I’m trying to figure out my place in this world. I’m trying to come to terms with all of it. I said some bad things to Wansu the other day and I need to apologize for that.”

A deep, shuddery sigh of relief rushes through Mom’s body.

“Oh, Hara, I couldn’t sleep last night.” The tears are coming again. I brace myself. “I thought you would hate me.” She dashes the back of her hand against her cheek. “I’m sorry for crying.”

“It’s okay.”

“Let me get it all out here so I don’t look foolish in front of Wansu. I bet she doesn’t cry.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Just like you.”

I stand frozen as Ellen makes her way into the house. Just like me. I’d thought I wasn’t a crier because Pat had trained it out of me, but maybe it’s part of my genes.

“Come in and show me how to make coffee with this machine. Is this a coffee maker?”

I get a grip and hurry inside. “No. Koreans drink instant coffee a lot. It’s just a hot-water dispenser. You can get real coffee from a coffee shop.”

“I noticed so many of them on the way here! By the way, my calves are killing me. You should have rented someplace that didn’t have so many stairs.” She sits at the table while I make her a cup.

“I’m sure that’s why the cost was low.”

“I suppose so.”

I hand her the coffee and take a seat. The ttalgi café box is full of small cakes and pastries. I take one and push the box in front of Ellen.

“When do you want to see Wansu?”

“Soon. I might lose my courage if we wait much longer.”

“Let me change, then.” I go upstairs and trade my sweats for the last of my new clothes, a pumpkin-colored oversize apron dress tied at the back with a thin string that dangles down to my waist. When I look presentable, I shoot off a text to Yujun.

ME: My mom would like to meet Wansu. I’d text Wansu but I don’t have her number.

Yujun replies instantly.

YUJUN: I’ll come and get you.

ME: No please. We’ll take a taxi

Dots appear and then disappear and then appear again, only for me to suffer what feels like a long period of silence, but it is only a couple of minutes. Finally a response comes through.

YUJUN: Ok will see you soon. Choi Wansu will want to eat with you. What kind of food does your mother like?

I hesitate because my first instinct was to say we’d eat Korean but Mom has had a long flight and this meal might be challenging to get through. It’s better she have something familiar.

ME: Italian

YUJUN: We will eat at Rubrica at the Westin Hotel. Very good. Your mother will like. Is it okay if we meet at the office and go together to the hotel?

ME: Sounds perfect

Downstairs, I tell her the plan. “Sorry, we have to walk to catch the cab.”

“It’s fine, Hara. I need the exercise.” She pats her stomach. “What’s Wansu like?”

“Imposing.”

“Really?” Ellen’s eyebrows shoot upward. “I wouldn’t have assumed that, although her emails were always very short. I assumed she didn’t know much English, though.”

“She speaks it perfectly.” I stop at the gate. “Wait, do you not know what she does?”

Ellen’s brow furrows. “She said she worked for her husband’s company doing administrative work.”

“She’s the CEO.”

Mom’s jaw drops. “The CEO?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it a workday? We should call her? Or maybe wait?” Ellen’s flustered state rouses my protective instincts.

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