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Some Night in July

Irene entered the gloomy dining hall of her household without uttering a single word. The only source of light in the large room came from the soft of a melancholy ember under a fireplace at the opposite end of the room. Both her father and mother had already been seated. Neither had offered any greeting for their 29-year-old daughter, but they both held the same subtle irritated expression as she took her seat.

“You’re late.” Her mother called out in a venomous voice. She snapped, and several housemaids melted from the shadow and began serving plates of food.

Irene furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion once scanning the large grandfather clock from the corner of her eye. It was only 6:28 p.m, they had agreed to meet for dinner at 6:30. 

“You should always arrive at any appointment five minutes early.” Her mother once again hissed as if reading her mind. 

“Ten minutes.” Her father corrected in his mellow and husky voice. It was probably the only words he’ll say all night, Irene noted. 

“Oh, come on. This is dinner, not a work appointment.” Irene replied while putting tremendous energy to hide her scowl within a fake grin. 

“What did we say about using interjections while talking? It is unladylike, you should know that by now.” Irene’s mother rubbed the front of her temples while sighing.

Sighing at the dinner table, that’s unladylike conduct as well. Irene retorted in her head. 

Figuring her parent's abrasive remarks would be the closest to a greeting she would receive, Irene decided to absorb herself with the meal in front of her. They were served prime steak, with mashed potatoes, and a variety of other side dishes the family cooked had created for them tonight. It had been a long time since Irene had returned home to eat dinner at the family house, obvious by the cold treatment from her parents, but she rejoiced knowing she could once again eat a meal by the family cook who she regarded as both a wonderful gourmet chef adn one of the sweetest ladies she had ever known. 

There was little talking during the course of dinner outside the necessity to call for one of the serving maids to bring a dish or refill glasses of wine. This was common in the Baek household, perks of being an only child as well, Irene scorned. Just tonight, Irene couldn’t quite enjoy the meal created by the family cook. It wasn’t that she didn’t like what was being served, but it was the pretext of why she was invited for dinner, that made swallowing even a bite of mashed potatoes hard to do.

Irene waited for the optimal time when both her father and mother had finished eating, and before dessert was to be served, when she decided to speak up. 

“Soooo” Irene instantly regretted her poor word choice as her mother shot ice beams across the table at her. Taking a deep exhale, Irene attempted again. “What is it that you called me over to talk about?”

At first, neither of her parents replied. Her father was busily reading through the evening newspaper, most likely trying to find any news about himself. Her mother, obviously still displeased, was gathering her thoughts. 

It is astonishing how little a person can change even after nine years. Even though Irene had long moved out from her parent's constraining grip since entering university when she was 20, and then proceeding to graduate and get a full-time job as an investment banker by the age of 25. Somehow, with all her success, her parents never regarded her more besides subtle discontent and remarks about her feeble mannerism. 

Instead of sighing, which would have caused both her parents to throw exasperated expressions at her, Irene opted to in her breath for as long as she could. This helped calm her nerves while also stopping her from a resurfaced habit of tapping her heels to the floor. God knows what her mother would do if she learned her daughter had redeveloped that childhood habit again.

“In three weeks, your father’s company is having its annual banquet.” Her mom answered plainly.

Per its “annual” occasion, Irene had long known about the banquet and the date it was happening. What did it matter to her? She hadn’t been to one of the banquets since she was in high school. 

“After some discussion, your father and I have decided it would be best if you joined us for the banquet this year.”

Judging from her mother's tone, Irene knew the only reason why this had come up was that one of the directors at the company had bragged about their child in front of them. Her parents never liked to show it, but they both were highly self-conscious of themselves, and especially their only daughter.

“I have work,” Irene replied too quickly. Her mother wasn’t as naive as she wanted her to be.

“It is in three weeks on a Saturday at 7:00 P.M. Which means 6:50 for you.” Irene’s mom made sure to emphasize the latter half of her statement with a dry smile. 

Great, A weekend and at night. The only times I have any free time. Irene mentally groaned