ϞϞϞϞϞ

“Mom!” Namjoo whirled on her when the door closed. Angry that she had chosen to put Sehun on the spot, humiliate him.

Dumping his glass of water into the sink she turned the cup upside down. Turning to her, “You should know better.” Gasping appalled, “Hugging a man?! A man! Don’t you know that guys only want to feel your s when they hug you?! You don’t understand what men like that are after?”

Namjoo’s face reddened. More out of rage than embarrassment. She snarled, “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t know him?” she repeated perplexed. “He just admitted he has no job. You expect a man like that to look after you? How is he going to care for you? Shuck through garbage disposals to feed you? Don’t kid me!”

Namjoo glared at her. “I’m shocked that you care.”

“What did you say?” her mother hissed.

“That you would act like you care,” Namjoo spat. “You didn’t ask about Hyejoo. You didn’t even ask to see the family she grew up with, but you want to sue them?!” Namjoo’s eyes bugged out. “You’re ing ridiculous! You only care about restoring justice for yourself. What about my sister?! Your other daughter?! Have you asked about her?! Have you felt a pint of grief when I told you…” her voice shook, her eyes welled up, “that she was dead? You didn’t even ask about her resting place. But you want to sue the family that raised her? You’re a joke, mom.”

Gritting her teeth Namjoo held back her tears. “You sue them because you’re angry. You sue them for the injustice our family had to go through when we couldn’t find Hyejoo, but you also ask about the family that took her. If they loved her, if they fed her. That they mourned for her, that it’s more complicated than just a piece of paper put together for court. And you don’t just act like you care about my life.”

Turning away Namjoo strut back to her room. Slamming the door behind her.

The rage soaring through her felt like it wouldn’t calm. Pressing her palm against her forehead, Namjoo slowly inhaled, exhaled. Feeling frustration at its max. Slumping against the door she buried her face into her knees.

ϞϞϞϞϞ

Wide awake Sehun stared up at the ceiling. Those words chased themselves in his head hauntingly. Reflections of what his father had advised for him.

But no one seemed to know that it was easier said than done.

Turning onto his side he stared at the old lollipops Namjoo had gotten for him. Stale now. Stiff and hard. Inedible. The flower in the tiny pot was dead. No matter how many times he had watered it in hopes to revive it, it would never be the same.

But he couldn’t let any of it go.

He didn’t want to hurt so bad. He didn’t want to leave Namjoo hanging. He wanted to make her proud.

Someday he wanted to marry her.

But he was still nothing.

He was a person Namjoo’s parents wouldn’t approve.

But he didn’t want to part from her in order to find his way.

Sehun could not give her up.

The thought of it hurt too much, but how could he just stand around when she was having such a hard time? What kind of person did that make him?

He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to have an easy life. And that didn’t seem to be here where he was.

Grabbing his phone, he turned it on. Staring at his wallpaper. The photo of Namjoo on the orange farm. A smile crawled onto his lips. Days that seem long gone. The two of them on her farm. Namjoo and Sambok always pulling his leg. Namjoo who loved the animals with her big heart. Namjoo who was happiest on the farm.

Did she want to go home?

His heart ached.

He didn’t want her to go. He couldn’t bear to say goodbye this time.

Pulling up her name he sent her a message.

ϞϞϞϞϞ

Midway through the night Namjoo awoke when she felt someone in the room.

“Are you sleeping?” It was her mother.

Namjoo didn’t answer. Closing her eyes again to avoid having a conversation with her. She was still angry.

Adjusting the blanket over her, her mother left the room. Once the door clicked shut Namjoo curled up. Burying herself under the blanket.

In the morning, Mr. Ahn had just a cup of coffee before leaving to go to work. Kissing her mother goodbye in the doorway. Carrying his important leather briefcase on the way out. Her mother was dressed in a formal black skirt with a matching blazer. Underneath was a plain white button down. Clearly, she was a store manager. A very shiny golden name tag was pinned on her left lapel.

Breakfast consisted of soup and some side dishes. Warm food that reminded her of her father’s. Only she was sitting at the table.

“Are you still upset?” her mother walked over. her head gently, she apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoo’s grip on the spoon became a stronghold. Trying not to let her emotions shine through. She was sorry, too. And she wanted to cry because she was sorry for the mean things she’d said last night.

“I’m only looking out for you,” her mother softly explained. “I just want you to have the best. All mothers want their daughters to have an easy life.”

“I like him,” Namjoo confessed. “I like him a lot.”

“Ok, all right,” her mother gave in. Rubbing her upper back. “Eat up. I have to go to work now. Finish all your food, ok?”

After washing the dishes, Namjoo immediately ventured out of the house. Observing the new neighborhood of clustered high-rise apartments. Four in total. All facing different north, east, south, west directions. A playground for children with new equipment took up the center area between the four. Pine trees and tall bushes created an artificial nature of what was meant to be an environmentally friendly place to thrive.

Growing families and new couples hoping for a new start to their life lived here. The sound of traffic was nearby. Meaning the buildings were right beside the road. An easy access for transportation if children needed to go to school, parents to work.

Checking her wallet for cash, Namjoo stepped up to the curb to hail a taxi.

When she arrived at Sehun’s it was his mother who opened the door. A flowery garden hat covered her head. The wide brim shading her face from the sun. She had on gloves and her knees were streaked with marks of dirt.

Her lips stretched up immediately. “Namjoo! It’s so nice to see you! Come in!”

Stretching an arm out she touched her arm to urge her inside. The front yard was blooming with flowers, but it didn’t look like that was where she was working.

“Would you like something to drink? You haven’t eaten?” she wondered.

“It’s ok,” Namjoo turned her down. “I ate.”

Her motherly smile was flattering. Kindness must run deep down to her roots. She was such a great mother anyone could have.

Sehun’s mother led her through the kitchen, explaining, “We were gardening outside. There’s so much weed nothing is growing back there. Do you garden back home?”

“I’m just an amateur,” Namjoo timidly smiled.

“Don’t be so polite. I’m not a professional myself.” Approaching the backyard, she chirped up, “Oh! There he is. He was going on and on about planting this flower of his. He’s so silly. These days he’s like another whole different person.”

Beyond the cherry blossom tree Namjoo spotted Sehun crouching on the ground. A pile of dirt at his side. True to his mother’s words a pile of weed was piled up inside a box. The back of his shirt was drenched in sweat. So hard at work that he hardly noticed her.

She had never seen him kneeling in dirt and grime before. Burying himself in work underneath the scorching sun. Wearing a funny bucket hat that clashed with his casual outfit. The veins along his arms popped out from the strenuous work of digging, burying, and digging some more. At his feet was the tiny pot from the guest room at her house. Next to it several packets of selected flower seeds.

For some reason, seeing him getting dirty made her heart go out to him. Making her both happy and a little sad.

“Aren’t you going to say hello to our guest?” his mother called out.

Sehun spun around so fast she thought he might topple over. A tiny smile abruptly lit up his lips.

Once his mother headed inside to prepare a quick snack for them, Sehun returned after washing his hands. Joining her on the back deck overlooking his work.

“Your mom said you’re planting flowers,” Namjoo started.

“Won’t they be pretty when they blossom?” he asked.

“Why’d you plant the dead flower?”

“Just…I want to see if I can grow it,” Sehun said.

“Some flowers are just dead.”

“Well, at least I tried.”

Namjoo smiled. “Why, I’m touched Sehun.”

His eyes landed on her. “Did you come because of the text?”

She blinked, confused. “What text?”

Sehun glanced at her curiously. Searching for something on her expression.

“What?” she asked.

Pressing his lips together, he shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Sehun,” Namjoo called. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you had to meet my mom like that.” Namjoo still felt engulfed with guilt. “She shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“It’s ok,” he assured her. “I understand where she’s coming from. She’s your mother.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine, Namjoo,” he pressed. “You’re her only daughter now. You should try to understand her, too.”

Conflicted between defending him and listening to him, Namjoo nodded. “I believe in you. You know that, right?”

Grinning, he nodded.

ϞϞϞϞϞ

I love you.

Do you want to marry me?

Leaning against the wall Sehun stared out the window. Watching the clouds roll by. One gone then another.

Namjoo just needed to say yes and he would do anything. Get on his knees. Beg. He would even enter the workforce and spend the rest of his life working without passion. He wouldn’t complain.

He just didn’t want to lose her.

But it looked like nothing was on his side anymore.

Sehun could sense it. The foreboding of something happening. He waited a day. A night.

The phone call finally came. It was from a number that didn’t belong in his contact list. He knew who it was.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Is this Oh Sehun?” He recognized the particular cool tone that belonged to Namjoo’s mother.

“Yes.”

“That’s good,” she stated. “I would like to meet you. When would be a good time?”

ϞϞϞϞϞ

Pushing the door open, Sehun walked into the restaurant. A waitress wearing a red vest with a tight hair bun walked up to him.

“This way.” She led him down the thin hallway into a private room. Opening the door for him. Revealing Namjoo’s mother inside. Seated at an empty table. Her expensive black purse possessing the empty seat beside her.

Once he was inside the vicinity, the waitress backed out closing the door. Pulling out the chair across from her he sat down.

Namjoo’s mother sported a bob cut. In contrast to her daughter’s simplistic ways, she was dressed in head to toe with fashion in mind. Wearing jewelry that sparkled with every movement. None Namjoo would dare wear on her farm while tending to the animals. Namjoo’s mother was very prim and proper.

Through her he saw himself. Head held so high he couldn’t see outside his own walls. That living in the modernized city driving an expensive sports car was what made him an outstanding person. What he needed to define himself was money and popular friends. Seeing that reaching a hand out to an injured animal lowered who he was as a person.

But today it was that girl whose best friend was a rooster he wanted.

It was that girl who proudly welcomed visitors to her farm. Opening up her arms for the creatures that could not defend themselves.

It was that girl who taught him to have new hope each day that had grown on him.

Regardless how many twists and turns he had taken; her heart was big enough to look past it. See him not just as Oh Sehun the nobody but Oh Sehun who could be somebody.

She sighed first. “Namjoo is a naïve girl. As you may know she grew up on a farm. Her father and I are divorced. She’s never had a mother to give her a proper upbringing. And where she comes from there’s not a variety of handsome men like you.

“I do regret that I did not bring Namjoo to the city with me, but from since she was young, she’s always loved animals. She didn’t want to leave the farm. It’s a place where she belongs. Namjoo has probably never met anyone like you, which explains why she’s so attracted to you. But Namjoo will never be able to meet your standards.”

She shook her head as if disappointed that Namjoo had not grown up well enough. Passed the standardized test to become a housewife. Like that was what she was meant to become.

Poor Namjoo who had too many flaws to marry into a good family.

“What standards are those?” he asked.

She smiled knowingly. A smile that said he was stupid. “I understand that you live in the city. You would have gone to a renown university. You have a degree. You’re a smart man, Sehun.”

He stared at her. Trying to decipher if she was trying to degrade Namjoo’s image so she wouldn’t appear attractive. Flatter him to make him remember where he came from, where his roots belonged.

“Do you think Namjoo could survive here? By tying her down. Having kids with her. Children she would have to raise so far from her father. What does she know about education here?” her mother questioned. “In the countryside schools are impossibly small. Children are always clumped up into classrooms, but the system here is so different. And you don’t have a job. How difficult will that be for you two?

“Namjoo doesn’t have a good degree. How can she get a job here? The farthest she’ll go is being a store clerk. Long hours of standing. Dealing constantly with grumpy customers. Women are constantly being harassed. Can you protect my daughter when you’re out looking for a career?”

Sehun’s eyes flittered to the smooth tabletop.

He couldn’t make promises. He could say he would try his best, but how far did best go?

He wanted to marry Namjoo, but what kind of life would they have?

Would she give up her father and the farm for him? The farm she loved so much. Would she leave Sambok behind? All for the city with so many horrid memories…all for him?

Could Namjoo become just a housewife for him?

Give up everything she loved so hard…for him?

Deep down he knew the answer.

Namjoo could not forfeit her father. Or the things she had committed her whole life to.

He could not be selfish because he loved her.

How could he hurt her for his own sake?

Kim Namjoo had everything in her life mapped out. She knew what she would spend the rest of her lifetime doing. She had always known who she would marry. She would live on that farm. Die on that farm.

She would live each day beautifully. Watching the sun across the vast field and discover new joy every morning in her pretty world.

Kim Namjoo who had never cried so much before. How could he have the guts to ask her to give up everything?

“You have a bright world. You’re an ambitious man,” Namjoo’s mother praised. “There is so much you can achieve before getting married. But Namjoo, she won’t be able to find her place in the city. It is merely a place of wonder for her. She still has so much in her life she can do; don’t you think?”

“Yes.” He solemnly agreed.

“I’m not asking you for a favor,” her mother explained. “I know you are an intelligent person. Namjoo will not have the courage to leave you, so I’m asking you to let go of her hand first. You know what’s best.”