“I’m going to get married.”

“With Jungsoo-ssi? Great for you.”

Silence. Mom blinked once.

It was Sunday morning and both of us were enjoying a rare breakfast together—usually, Mom would be up and about earlier than me and went to her office for some minor shooting. But today she had no schedule, so she indulged herself with her newest hobby, cooking. A plate full of oily sausages, spinach soup, kimchi, and bowl full of mounting rice and sunny-side eggs waited for me when I went down from my room.

I bet she didn’t see this coming from her little teenager. I bet she would expect me to throw tantrums and just be whiny girl. The thing was; I’m not like most normal, tantrum-y girls. She should’ve known that I wouldn’t do stupid things like throwing away her happiness or something. A marriage she wanted, a marriage she got, as long as it was with the perfect choice. I had met with the man, of course. Park Jungsoo was 45 years old man with famous job as Director Inspector in Seoul District. They met because of murder cases brewing in Seoul approximately a year ago. Mom interviewed him as the spoke person of Seoul PD. He was handsome, funny, nice and financially decent (extremely so. Don’t judge me—money didn’t come from trees and freefall from the sky) he and mom had three dinners in the last months, and the three of them were very good memories. I didn’t really see the point denying him at all.

Bowl of steaming white rice in front of me was still fluffy, and the hot fried eggs on top of it was more than inviting for me to dig in and just have this conversation laxly, but Mom wouldn’t have that. She was the traditional kind of Mom who would want to sit her daughter thru an extremely uncomfortable and painfully excruciating telltale of bee and birds. She wouldn’t want me munching on rice now. I would violate some fictional crime of ‘not listening parents with apt interest’.  So I held back, even though my stomach was growling, and my mouth incessantly salivating.

“You aren’t going to object it?” Mom asked nervously. “I mean, I know you’re always supportive, but… really? Not even an ounce of hesitation?”

“Have you told Grandma about this?” I asked her sharply. Grandma not knowing anything could bring catastrophe. Keeping her in the dark would not be a good idea at all.

“well, technically I have—“

“Then it’s settled.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m 18 years old. You’re 39 and counting. You’re not going to be young forever, and shallow creatures like men surely liked their women based on the web of wrinkles on your face. Besides, I’m going to college. I’m going to move out, probably will marry to some kind guy. I will leave you alone at some point in my life—“ her face tightened hearing this, but I still going on, “—And I don’t want you to experience stupid mid-life crisis by yourself when I’m not by your side. You will need this man around.”

Mom bit her lips and I started to smell something fishy.

“Unless… you don’t like this man and you are pressured by my encouraging to search for husband? If that’s the case then don’t do this.”

“No, no!” she shook her head too fast—her hair messily tumbled down from her sorry excuse of a bun—“Jungsoo is nice, I love him so much.”

“Yes, I collected as much.” I could see months of flower bouquets with card in every single of them, containing only one initial written, J. I could also see delicious imported foods flooding our refrigerator. Even things I didn’t know exist were being sent out by him to Mom. One thing my Mom believed in was food is more important than jewelry. Whatever this man was doing, he clearly knew how to woo my Mom. I gave him an A for consideration. However, I could smell a big ‘BUT’ behind her affirmation.

“…but?”

Mom’s eyes flittered like butterflies. A deer in the headlights, with her as the deer and me as the headlights. She looked guilty. “You really won’t object?”

I narrowed my eyes. Something was definitely fishy. “Mom, tell me what is going on.”

“Jungsoo has kids. And by kids, I mean… a lot of kids.”

I nodded slowly, a little bit perplexed by the fact since neither Mom nor Jungsoo-ssi had informed me about the vital part on the three long dinners we shared. They probably were being thoughtful and didn’t want to startle me by eleven potential step-brothers? Well. They didn’t have to do that. Kids would be a little bit too much at a time, but if you manage the properly they would behave nicely. I myself was very good in handling kids—in fact, I loved them. Mom was fairly good with child, too, so I didn’t see the big problem here. “Do you not want the kids?” I asked. Maybe Mom felt another plethora of kids was a big burden. I mean, eleven was not a few numbers. How in the world Park Jungsoo-ssi replicated that much of kids?

“I want them.” Mom said with a burning conviction.

“Then I rest my case. I support your plan to marry. Just introduce me with his kids before.” I said, and she gave me blinding, full-teeth smile she always did as she interviewed famous person in TV. Mom was a busy person. She was the news anchor of six-minutes breaking news on local TV station. I was wondering why my Mom had never found anyone to her liking, even though her job required her to be a social butterfly. I raised my bowl to the air, gesturing her to do the same. “Congratulation on finding your other half!” and tapped the end of it to Mom’s bowl, before cocking it like I was Leonardo DiCaprio cocking some glass of fine wine in the Great Gatsby.

She laughed and ruffled my head affectionately.

.

.

.

.

“My Mom is getting married.”

Miss Soojung nimble fingers froze from doing her assignment as she met me with blank stare, before that ice-cold exterior melted into one jovial happiness—“really?! Congrats to her! That’s awesome! When is the marriage?”

I smiled rather brightly to the infirmary teacher. She was really excitable and I loved her for it. “I don’t know. I have yet to meet the whole family so I think they haven’t arranged a specific date.”

That made Miss Soojung cringed a bit. “Ooh. Did he bring extra luggage with him? That .”

“My mom doesn’t think so, though.” I swung my feet as I sat on the top of infirmary bed. The infirmary was still as devoid of students as ever, for people would only come to here once they met with bloody wounds or unhealthiness. One would think someone like me ought not to hang around infirmary for too long, but no ‘accidental feeding’, as people had clinically labeled it, had happened between me and the weakened party. “She wanted all of them. She’s kinda like mother hen, I’m not surprised.”

“Have you thought about this? Oh God, the light is killing me,” Miss Soojung started her assignment again as she put her black Ray Band on. She was sitting facing the field, where many other students doing physical education or just girls and cheering the boys playing soccer. The lively murmurs made me feel we were isolated here, in the infirmary, and I was comforted by the fact. Blinding white of sunlight contrasted with the dark, cold interior of infirmary. And I preferred the cold this way.

I gazed at the white floor, conviction a little bit swayed. I knew what Miss Soojung meant. She knew how a solitary of creature am I, and how uncomfortable I would be once strangers came into my bubble of safe zone. That was also the reason I always came back to the infirmary instead of goofing around with my classmates in the class. That was also the reason why I seldom went to cafeteria to buy foods. It would be hard. Park Jungsoo would be deterred into a deviated image of him once I got to know him further. His kids would probably not be cute and cuddly, but satanic and messy. I would have to fight my own war even in the sanctuary that was house if I signed up to this. It would be very hard, but is this all about me?

“I haven’t thought about this.” For the first time I said thing out loud, and honest. “But what I know is that I’m willing to try.”

Miss Soojung peered at me, and I saw flashes of affection and pride on her eyes.

“You’re a thousand times more mature than me six years ago.” Miss Soojung chuckled. Her beautiful tresses blocked her side profile elegantly as she crawled some more beautiful cursive words on the paper. At the field, a girl cheered a boy loudly we could hear the boy’s name clearly even with this much distance. So much love infused in the girl’s voice. I envy her ability to be bold and free. “I’m embarrassed. I guess our big, mature girl won’t want a candy, then?”

“Don’t be.” I smiled, proud that my favorite teacher liked me enough to keep me around, “I’m actually craving some candy right now. Enough to prove that I’m not a big, mature girl you think I am, right?”

“Give me some aegyeo and I’ll consider giving you some, kid.”

I pouted exaggeratingly and gave her the sickeningly-saccharine, childish smile and started a baby-talk, “Pwease give Hala some candies?”

“Hala wants some candies? How much Hala want the candies?” Goddamit. Miss Soojung was merciless. She was as ice-cold as subarctic blast. I bit her lips trying not to burst into laugh and choke myself to death, but that would signify my loss. I don’t like losses. “This much!” I squeaked while giving her the ‘big-heart’ signature. Not satisfied, I bombarded her personal space with body-wiggles and high-pitched annoying voice, “Where’s Hala’s candy? Where? Where where? Wheeereee?” and not stopping until she laughed hysterically, shoving me out of her face.

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