Hyejin eyes her like a biological camera whose target was her. She struts around with no sense that her soft revelation may have provided a spark of awkwardness. I glanced down at my phone during that split second of I wanting to say hello to my mother. Looking up at her, the things she plants into my head. I took a sip of my espresso. 

I watch as she holds a carefree conversation with Ajusshi. I think I need a stronger kick. One sip and logic will flow. Some kind of logical deducing of how I should be treating this unwanted opening of my closet's door. 'Hyejin, stop tracking her every motion and eat the pasta.' I spoke with this borrowed calmness. What a tone. I need it to infiltrate my entire head. Calmness. I seek you. 

I have so many questions which I should be asking. I have so much that I want to know. Yet, I am here being so near to her without a single pinch of wanting to say hello. I feel like I need to inform her to scoot away. To go back to Mother. To go back to the nice absence of hello. There is no start. There was an end. Why did she open the damn closet door?

At this peak of annoyance, we watch as she took steps towards our table. Somebody put a door between us. 'Moonbyul shi. May we speak?' she formally asks me to the impending verbal dance. I wish she started with a hello and had followed it with goodbye. Maybe ignoring will be more fitting. Then again, this lady who stands could not even ignore what she saw back then. Why I can't I just be a part of the strangers? Why I had to flare up at her over a stupid cup of water? Why oh why did we not just start with hello and had kept the distance?

'Hello.' I greeted her. If it couldn't be done back then, let us start now. My harmless greeting made her blink twice. 'Unnie, I can just go.' Hyejin eyes frantically searching for someone out there. Her eyes land on Wheein who re-enters the main area after closing the cafe for the afternoon break. 'Wheein!' In a little squeal, she chases after her with her plate of pasta. While my little y puppy left the table, the lady seats opposite me. 

She doesn't return me with a hello, instead, she looks at me. This lady gives me nothing to my will. Unlike her initial question, she sits there in silence. Blatantly, she studies my face. 'Speaking should have sound waves being made by you no?' I enquired. 'If you are here to study my physical appearance, I can send my nudes if you so wish.' Her body leaned back. Yes I did take it too far. However, I was not in the mood to play her games and provide her bullets via conversing. 'I don't want your nudes. I just want to help you.' what kind of determination is this lady filled with? 'Making me your little project isn't helping. It is demoralizing and frankly, insulting.' I informed her. 'Whatever the immense curiosity you hold over me, go get my Mother's rendition. Just go and make her your project instead.' My annoyance sipping out in my last sentence. 

'To put things crudely, I did. Like you, she chooses the disassociation. Like what you said, she picks what she shares, selects what she is willing to hear, chooses the details, timing, etc.' Her eyes teared up. Creating a dramatic pause, she her lips as she tries to control her emotion. 'Yet her last line about you was that she lost the rights to say hello. So what does that mean?' Her eyes burning with intensity. The first that I detected her annoyance towards I. 'Shouldn't you be asking her?' I shot back. 'She is your mum.' It sounded like a plea for some sort of clarity on my part. 'She is my Mother.' I repeated it back to her factually. 

Her brows frowned a little. 'Actions have consequences and ripples and all the crap that my Mother cannot control. Not every A is followed by a B. Did she lose the rights to say hello or did she choose to say bye in her absence of hellos?' I let my last inquisition linger between us. I watch her ponder about what I was implying. Maybe in the process, sprinkling a few specs of dirt on my Mother's portrait drawn in her head. 'No mum will willingly leave their child.' she concludes. Guess no dirt landed on my Mother's face.

'No woman will willingly live with her husband's murderer.' I countered. My eyes naturally looked towards my right hand. Clenching it, I faced her again. 'My mum has been choosing not to say hello. So please, Ms Kim. Let my mum be my Mother that just doesn't say hello.'