So, this is how it feels like to come home to someone…  

"You’re here!" A bubbly exclamation peals from the narrow slit of the unlocked door.   

…I’ve completely forgotten.

“Hey there.” Seulgi bends down on one knee to greet a bed-ready Ahreum dressed in purple printed pajamas. "Were you waiting for me?"

“Ahreum, who are you talking to!?”

That should be Irene. Seulgi recognizes the fretting in her tone and the tap tap tap of her hurrying sandals against the tiled floor. Ahreum disappears from the doorway as if she was snatched by the shadows and once again, Seulgi’s thrown out to the merciless dampness of the cold. 

So much for nostalgia. She hugs her arms closer and stands up. Guess, Sooyoung and Seungwan got the wrong impression about Seulgi and Irene. The only thing the brunette doctor is getting close to is the façade of the shut door of her apartment. She overhears a voice from it – stern but concerned. 

“Ya, Bae Ahreum, what did I tell you about opening the door?”

Irene again. She can’t see her, but Seulgi can tell that she’s frowning.

“Stay put and leave it to eomma...”, the child answers, glum with guilt.

“So, why did you open the door today?”

"I'm sorry, eomma..I-I c-couldn’t wait…” Ahreum sniffs. “I’m s-sorry I made y-you mad.”

Irene inhales sharply and lets go of a big sigh. She goes on, softer and gentler. "I'm not angry, Ahreum. It's more like... you scared me."

And then everything is mute.

Seulgi cricks her neck to the door, but, really, nobody is talking. From the likes of the rustling sounds though, it seems like Ahreum is now in Irene’s comforting embrace.   

"I'm sorry, did I scare you back?" The latter asks, more apologetic now than reprimanding.

Ahreum blows her nose (into a tissue or cloth Seulgi hopes). "It's okay, eomma. You only scared me a little..."

"Just promise that you won't do that ever again.” Irene warns seriously. “The person at the door could be a bad stranger..."

“Yes, eomma. I promise.” Ahreum replies, acting chipper already. “Don’t worry. Today, it's not a bad stranger…"

"Who is it, then?"

"It's Seulgi-seonsaengnim!”, the toddler cries in delight.

Just in time, Seulgi draws back and the door swings wide open, revealing Irene with Ahreum’s head in the comfortable curve of her arm. Her baseball tee sleepwear now a pajama set that matches her daughter’s; her round eyes now framed by wire-rimmed circular glasses and the baby hair that normally tumbled on her forehead are now gone - steered back by a pink bunny headwrap and a haphazard ponytail.

Nothing changed, but at the same time, everything was different.

Seulgi masks her surprise with a polite smile. "Good... evening?"

-----

"It's really, really, seriously, usually organized around here." Irene explains. At this point, it’s beginning to sound like a rehearsed dialogue that she says every time Seulgi steps foot inside their house.

The doctor simply nods, pretending that the too many adverbs before the word ‘organized’ isn’t sketchy at all. She also tries to ignore that Irene is staring at her more than usual – even tiptoeing to meet her gaze. It must be her attempt to shield the view of the living room, but it’s a tad too late; the visitor had already snuck a peek at the piles of shoeboxes and bags strewn on the floor.

"Were you cleaning? I can lend a hand….” Seulgi mentions, remembering Seungwan’s advice to be helpful. She charges to the granite kitchen counter to deposit her things. “I just have to put these -"

"No, no, noooo... It's fine!” Irene replies, quick on her feet. She’s grabbed the brown paper bags from Seulgi’s clutches, setting them neatly on the table. “I'm almost done! I just have to move the things back to their new place. What are all these anyway?"

"Are they presents?" Ahreum pops in, tugging Seulgi's pants eagerly from the back.

"It's food actually.” Seulgi responds, pulling the sleeves of her wine-colored turtleneck. She reaches into the bags and pulls out the boxes. The greasy, spicy aroma of fried poultry consumes the house whole. “Ahreumie, do you like chicken?"

"It's the best ever!" The kid declares, clapping her hands.

“That’s great! Do you eat it spicy? I think it’s mixed with the regular ones though…” Seulgi says, opening the boxes one by one to check.

Irene clasps her hands to and lets out a string of small coughs.

“Eomma?” Ahreum calls worriedly.

Irene clears and turns away.

“Is everything alright?” Seulgi asks.

The older Bae shakes her head before she turns to her guest. 

"I’m fine. This is very thoughtful. Thank you, Seulgi."

Irene’s eyes seem a little watery.

---

“I didn’t know you had a bad eyesight…” Seulgi remarks. She sinks down into one of the kitchen chairs across Irene. She notices a loose thread in the cushion and picks at it. “Since when did you start wearing them? "

“Huh? Bad what?” Irene asks, her attention split between cutting the chicken and listening to Seulgi speak. While her deft hands tear the meat away from the bones, her spectacles slip down her nose like a clue. It takes her a few more seconds but she puts two and two together.

“Oh! You mean this?” Irene motions to her rather trendy eyewear. “They’re not real.  No lenses. I just wear them when I’m ugly.”

Seulgi half-suppresses a laugh. Even face geniuses feel ugly sometimes, huh?

“Is there something funny?” Irene stops slicing. She squints around her warily, not getting the joke.

“No, no…I’m sorry for laughing all of sudden.” Seulgi shakes her head and puts her sniggering to a halt. She pulls out the beige thread off the cushion and rolls it around her fingers.  “…I just think you’re a genius.”

“Oh.” Irene blinks owlishly, resuming her chicken deboning. "Thanks, I guess?"

Seulgi decides to stop bothering the homemaker. Her glance bounces around the Bae’s kitchen. The cabinets are made of cherrywood and on one obsidian-colored countertop, there’s a framed picture of three people. From a far, Irene can be distinguished, carrying a days-old Ahreum, and a man Seulgi has never seen before has his arms around them, his eyes crinkling in midlaughter. Seulgi’s eyes drop to the floor. She will never even have the chance to see him. Neither will Ahreum.

“Eomma! Eomma! Is the chicken done already?” You said it’ll be okay once I pick up my toys!” The latter nags, running to her seat. Seulgi stops gawking and  carries her up the cushion. “I put them in the box already. You said I should." 

 “Aaaand, it’s almost finished. Look, I’ve cut it into pieces for you.” Irene walks over to her daughter, brandishing the utensils. The two Baes admire her handiwork. The chicken meat was neatly pushed aside and the bones were stripped cleaned. If it wasn't Seulgi who ordered, she would have thought the chicken was boneless in the first place. 

“Eomma, gomawooooo!” Ahreum answers charmingly, looping her tiny arms around her mother’s waist.  “Are you going to eat with me this time?”

“Hmm?” Irene lays the cutlery down. She nudges her head to the person across her. “How about asking Seulgi-seonsaengnim?”

Two pairs of anticipating eyes bore into Seulgi.

The doctor plucks one wing off.

Irene and Ahreum nod in satisfaction.

“Well, if you would excuse me for a moment…” Irene bows and pivots towards her chores in the living room.

“You sure you’re not joining us?” Seulgi suggests one last time. “We can switch if you want to. You can tell me where to place the stuff...”  

“Ah, uh…maybe later after I finish.” Irene looks back impatiently and Seulgi sees a subtle change in her expression before she breaks into a winsome smile.  “I’m just taking your advice. Keeping things with silica gel in them out of children’s reach. Thanks again, Seulgi.”

Irene heads back without another word.

The doctor thinks she should sit down and do what she’s told to do, but her guts say otherwise. The pinching feeling in the base of her stomach tells her there’s something about Irene declining all her advances, besides her characteristic shyness.  

And more importantly, did she just scrunch her nose at me?

Seulgi tries to ignore the uneasy awareness that something had gone very wrong.

----

“Ya, Seulgi-ssem, what’s this called?”

While the said person cleans up their soiled dishes, Ahreum seems to have taken an interest in the contents of her messenger bag in the dining area. She’s a curious little fellow. If Irene were around, she probably would have chastised her for rummaging though other people's belongings without permission, but Seulgi  decides against it. That's a lesson for another day. 

“That? Uh…” Seulgi stalls, craning her neck to get a better view of what Ahreum is holding up. Burgundy rubber and silver metal tubes dangle from her palms and the instrument seems bigger in her small hands, but Seulgi has an idea of what it could be. “...I think that’s my stethoscope.”

“Stethoscoot?” Ahreum hangs the instrument around her neck. “Is it a necklace for doctors? Sooyoungie-ssem wears it like this, doesn’t she?”

“Well, the stethoscope...” Seulgi corrects gently. "...it's an instrument doctors use to hear hearts and lungs.”

Water splashes on the soapy plates. Seulgi makes sure it doesn't spill. She has to do well on the only job Irene allowed her to do tonight.  “Do you know what hearts and lungs are?”

“Heart beats so blood can go around our bodies and the lungs are for breathing.” Ahreum answers coolly. Her feet sway energetically from her seat. “That’s what eomma told me.”

"Your eomma is a very good teacher, isn't she?” Seulgi a brow in surprise. “That sounds about right."

“But why do you need to use stethoscoot? Can’t you just come closer?” Ahreum stares at the doctor quizzically. “I think I can hear eomma breathing and her heart beating when we sleep together…”

“Well…that’s what they did before - years, years and years before you and I were born, until boy doctors got shy because they have to come too close to listen to girls’ hearts.”  Seulgi blushes at the thought of having to press her ears on her patients’ bosoms to hear them in the 20^th century.

“Besides, not everyone would be comfortable with that, don’t you think so?” The doctor arranges the squeaky clean utensils inside the kitchen cabinet. She takes a step back and rubs her hands together. The sink water was pretty cold.   

“I guess so, Seulgi-ssem.” Ahreum juts her lip as if in deep thought.

Seulgi slaps the dishtowel at the small rack near the sink. “Here, let me show you something. I’ll show you how it works.”

The doctor returns to the dining area. She stretches the earplugs twice before pushing them into Ahreum’s ears with utmost care. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

Ahreum shakes her head and her avid eyes bulge. “Waaaah, I think I can hear better now!”

“Right?” Seulgi agrees, adjusting the stethoscope’s diaphragm and dragging it near her own chest. “Listen. It’s a looooot louder using the stethoscope.”

“Stethospoke.” Ahreum repeats in a hushed voice as she listens to the sound of Seulgi’s heartbeats.

The doctor smiles at the adorable mistake. “I guess it is a bit hard to pronounce.”

“Eh? I can hear you speak too! This is sooo cool…like a phone…” Ahreum grins with amazement.

Seulgi hums. “Even when patients whisper, we can hear them.”

But Ahreum is only half listening, her eyes are wandering and Seulgi’s follow. They land on her mother who’s still tinkering with the various household items in the living room. The memory of Irene rejecting her not just once but twice, stings Seulgi.

“Seonsaengnim.” The three-year-old calls out suddenly.

“Mmmhm?”

“Your heart is going dugeun, dugeun really fast. ”

Seulgi pries her eyes off the house’s den.

"O-oh, r-really? The older girl stutters. “T-that can't be though. I'm feeling okay. Maybe the stethoscope is broken ...”

It's a lie. Seulgi knows it's working perfectly fine.

"Is stethospook sick?"

Ahreum doesn't though. 

“You go check it then, Seulgi-ssem! I'm going to whisper into it and you can hear if stethoscoke is okay." The child announces out of the blue. Seulgi sits still while the younger Bae puts the stethoscope clumsily into her own ears.

"I’ll tell you a secret in a really quiet voice but you shouldn’t tell eomma, okay?” Ahreum solemnly speaks into the diaphragm like a microphone. She cradles the thing between her knees as if it could make her go any quieter. “Make a promise.”

Her colleagues at the hospital would laugh like hyenas at what she's about to do but Seulgi holds up her thumb and crosses her heart, trying not to be flustered.  She’s got to get used to this someday. 

The toddler bobs her head, pleased.

“The secret is….”

Is….? Seulgi leans closer, wondering what she is to wait for.

“Eomma doesn’t like chicken.  The smell makes her a little dizzy but I think because it’s your present, it’s okay.”

A wave of realization hits -  the watery eyes, the scrunching nose and the constant attempts to get away from the kitchen.  It wasn’t me. It was the chicken.  Seulgi takes off the stethoscope and rubs Ahreum’s shoulders in the most affectionate way possible, her heart finally relieved of its anxiety.

"I think stethoscope is working juuuuust fine." The doctor winks stealthily. What she really means is "Thanks for telling me." 

And Ahreum figures it out in a jiffy. She's Irene's kid afterall. 

The young girl holds up a finger to her grinning lips. “Shhhhh.”

“Shhhh.”

---

“Thank you for carrying her all the way to her bed. You must be tired…” Irene dotes, as she escorts Seulgi to the entrance. “I hope she didn’t give you a hard time or anything. Your hospital duties must have been harsh enough.”

“I don’t have much to take pride on, but I do have a lot of stamina.” Seulgi says lightheartedly, recounting how she laid the three-year-old kid on her bed without breaking a sweat. Her glance flickers at Irene noticeably bright and glossy eyes, now that all the traces of the chicken dinner have vacated from her household.

“Ahreum is very smart and kind. I was right about what I said to you. You raised her well.” Seulgi adds.

“Goodness, I should be thanking you.” Irene bows, averting her gaze to the floor. “Sometimes, I wonder what we ever did for you to care for us like this…”

“Honestly?” Seulgi bites her lip. Although Seungwan and Sooyoung aren’t around to be the lousy audience this time, she weighs her words carefully. “I think….ever since you called, I can’t help but care about the things you care about. I feel like we’re kind of connected in that way now.” 

Irene gives her half moon smile, all crooked and sweet. In an instant, Seulgi’s eyes feel different, as if they’ve been in a room that hasn’t seen the light in years yet suddenly all the blinds have been pulled open and the sun is beaming at its full power.

“You’re smiling. Did I say it in a strange way again?” Seulgi asks, walking out the door. 

“You don’t talk much, but when you do, you say the nicest things, Seulgi.” Irene’s grin stretches. She hoists her hand in mid-air to wave goodbye. “Good night, I hope you can rest well.”

Seulgi returns the gesture sluggishly. Her steps to the outdoors unbearably heavy. She’s waiting for the right time to ask the question that’s been in her mind for an hour. Time waits for no one, however. Irene is shutting the door close.

“Food!” The doctor manages to blurt out.  

“Eung?” Irene peeks out from the crack. “You were saying something, Seulgi?”

“I was…”

Seulgi gulps. “I was asking…”

More confidently, this time. “…what’s your favorite food?”

The confusion in Irene’s face is apparent, but she gives the question a serious thought. “Lately, it’s tteokbokki.”

“Tteokbokki.” Seulgi mulls over to herself, willing her brain to never forget. She clutches the doorknob so she can close the thing on her own.

The unbearable heaviness becomes effervescent fizz.

“I’ll bring it next time. The food you like the most.”

----

“There’s an apple on every teacher’s desk except on mine. I wonder why is that…” Irene asks with a knowing kind of laugh, although she’s sure that the other person in the room will pretend not to know. The said girl is too busy munching lazily on the table beside her. Her long, straight black hair hangs on Irene's co-worker's chair backrest while her sock-covered feet is swinging on the desk. 

Irene makes a mental note to disinfect the whole place first thing tomorrow morning.  No thanks to the cousin beside her. 

“You know the saying ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away?”  The words are muffled by the fruit chunks in Kim Yerim’s mouth – the deep red apple that was supposed to belong to Irene. “Maybe they didn’t give you one because they don’t want Dr. Kang to go away.”

The preschool teacher sweeps her eyes over the green sofa in the faculty lounge and the gray carrels. The air is still and nearly soundless. The coast is clear.

“Ahreum told you everything?” Irene guesses, well-aware that her cheeky daughter and cousin were always up to some spirited mischief. It has slipped from her memory but she’s positive that their alliance even has a name.

“Of course, we’re bound under the ReumRim alliance…”  Yerim says in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone, refreshing the former’s memory. She takes one last bite of the apple and chucks the core into Irene’s personal trash bin, wiping the juice in her hands against her school uniform. “...but I still want to know what you think. What kind of person is Kang Seulgi?”

"You came all the way from cram school to ask me this?" The older girl stacks folders on her desk while her thoughts are someplace else - on the doctor that visits them even in perfect health.

“I bet Ahreum tells you she finds her ‘cool’. Seulgi can be very sharp and charismatic to her.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Yerim says, offhandedly. She spins on Irene’s coworker’s office chair, bored out of her mind. She doesn’t even try to hide that the information isn’t new to her. “And to you?”

“To me?” Irene’s lashes sweep up. She holds out her fist from her sweater paws and folds her fingers one by one. “Awkward….quiet….careful...”

“And, ah!”

She exclaims because she’s forgotten an important one. Her fourth finger shoots up on its own.

“…and sincere. Seulgi seems very sincere.”

“So? Your type?” Yerim scoots to the edge of her seat. She’s definitely not the kind of person to beat around the bush.

Irene chuckles. “I haven’t thought about it like that, Myemim. ”

“But, why?” The younger girl asks, scowling - both at the nickname and at the older girl's response. “It’s about time you start thinking about what you like. You can start dating again and going out and maybe, in the process, you can find someone you can lean on.” 

Irene flings her hand dismissively, brushing off the idea. A wry smile marks her lips. “Full time preschool teacher handling about 30 toddlers, with a three-year old child of her own in a shabby apartment - any takers?”

“Oh, come on! Have you seen yourself?” Her cousin argues, adjusting the mirror of Irene’s carrel towards the older woman’s face to prove her point. “You look and act younger than teenagers half your age.”

“That’s because if they’re half my age, then they’re probably still undergoing puberty.” Irene retorts, flipping the mirror down. “You know nobody looks good before puberty.”

“What are you looking for anyway?” Yerim pops the question with a glare. “You rejected your coworker two years ago because it was too early, the girl who had a crush on you in high school when she tried reconnecting with you last year and your student’s single father last month.”

Irene doesn’t even bat an eye. She rearranges the folders again, tapping the edges of the pile to make them tidy and whisks them away to her boss’ desk. Not even slightly annoyed. “Thank you for that wonderful summary of my life.”

The older girl has the patience of an angel, but Yerim has the persistence of a demon. It's a mystery how they're both in the same family pedigree. The younger cousin chases after Irene, pestering her.

“You said your ideal type is someone warm. Seulgi...isn’t she warm?”

 “Her hands are cold.”

Irene snorts as if it’s a private joke.

“Of course, her hands are cold! The weather’s chilly and she works at an airconditioned hospital.” Yerim puts her head into her palms when Irene doesn’t stop snickering.  “Are you seriously eight years older than me?!”  

Irene shrugs playfully. She shuffles back to her belongings and nods towards the door, directing Yerim to help her close up the lounge. The younger girl sighs, giving up on her childish older cousin. She joins her and they walk out of the room in complete silence.

At least for a minute.

“Okay, hold up.” Yerim presses on, relentless. “I know you won’t answer any of my questions straight, but this is the last.” 

Irene slides the door close.

“Are you holding back because you’re afraid of what your parents will say?”

The lock clicks.

“Do you still talk about me in family reunions?” Irene asks with a smile, but the mood is obviously dampening.  

“We avoid you like a plague during the meal, of course...” Yerim quips.  “…but uncle and aunt always ask how you’re doing after. They single me out and talk to me in private. I wonder why they can’t bring themselves to ask you in person – to see for themselves that their child and grandchild are holding up well despite being on their own.”

The keys jiggle when they land in the purse.

Irene stands still for a moment, thinking of the strangers her parents have become. A strand of dark hair falls across her face, and she brushes it back with her hand.

“Some 'good' byes can be really bad. Ours was like that.”

END OF CHAPTER FOUR.

Author’s Note: Hello, it’s been a while! I finally finished my internships and graduated too. However, I haven’t been writing much because I pursued studying again (med school, this time!). You’re all doing well, I hope? This is just a short update I came up with during the holidays. Did you have fun during the holidays? (Hahaha, I have a loooot of questions) Feel free to talk to me and to tell me what you think!

Personally, I think my writing style changed a lot after a year. It's like a different person wrote this alskdfhgjkl did you notice, too?