-Wendy-

Buzz… buzz…

Wendy lets out a defeated sigh and gets up from her creaking bed, trying hard not to wake up Geunsoo beside her. She’s not sure what time he drunkenly fell asleep beside her or what time he even arrived home. It’s routine almost and sometimes Wendy finds herself wondering how it’s come to this.

She looks at Geunsoo’s sleeping face and tries to remember the optimistic young man she fell in love with when she first moved to Tongyeong. It’s only been five years and yet, she struggles to remember a time when she wasn’t constantly walking on egg-shells around him. Wendy knows he wasn’t always like this: a mix of drunkenness and small violent outbursts. Geunsoo was ambitious and bright and recklessly optimistic and Wendy wonders where it all went wrong for them and wonders how long she can keep pretending that he’ll wake up one day and be the Geunsoo she once knew. She looks at Geunsoo’s face one more time and thinks about the annulment papers she’s been hiding in her recipe book at the back of the cupboard.

“Soon”, Wendy says quietly to herself

Wendy clocks in at Seoul Cup earlier than usual. She figures coming up with a new pie recipe might help her decide what to do with her life.

               Pumpkin-Dark Chocolate Tart with a Toasted-Hazelnut Crust           

Toast the hazelnuts on a rimmed baking sheet, tossing lightly, until fragrant and slightly darkened. Let it cool for a few minutes and remove the skins with a kitchen towel. Toss the hazelnuts with the dry ingredients in food processor and let ‘er rip. Add butter – always add extra as mom used to say, and continue pulsing…

“Wendy-ah, why are you here so early? Trying out another recipe?”

Wendy looks up from where she’s standing with the food processor and sees Seulgi entering the kitchen.

“I’m making a pumpkin-dark chocolate tart with a hazelnut crust. I was thinking of maybe doing something crazy at the end like adding caramel sauce or something,” Wendy replies as she continued pulsing her crust.

“Caramel sauce? Someone call the pie cops, we have a rebel on our hands,” Seulgi teases

Seulgi circles around the kitchen and holds a piece of paper under Wendy’s nose, forcing the older girl to look up at her friend.

“A baking festival, really? Seulgi, I’m surrounded by baked goods every day. I really don’t think a baking festival is where I’d like to spend my days off at,” Wendy says

“It’s a baking festival with a baking competition, genius. The grand prize is $50,000. You could use that money and do whatever you want with your life. Isn’t that what you always talk about?” Seulgi replies

Wendy looks at Seulgi expectantly and takes the flyer from her. She carefully reads the details on the flyers. The prize money was in fact $50,000 but even if she didn’t win the grand prize, a third place finish would give her $20,000 which is still more than enough to help her start over.

“Your pies are definitely good enough to win this competition, Wendy. You should give it a shot. You should give yourself a shot. You deserve this,” Seulgi continues

Wendy folds the flyer and puts in her back pocket. She nods at Seulgi’s words, gives the other girl a small smile, and goes back to her pumpkin tart.

“Maybe this will be the pie I enter the competition with, who knows?” Wendy says quietly

-Irene-

Irene hears her heart beating in her ears as she pulls up the quiet road and stops in front of a quaint little house. It’s a cozy looking cottage with its white fence and light blue walls; the red door standing out a little too much – much different from the cold and grey high-rises of Seoul that Irene’s gotten used to. Irene steps out of her car and looks around, her nearest neighbor on either side is about a block away and the lot across hers looks to be an abandoned park.

In another life, she thinks she probably could’ve built a home here – replace the fixtures to fit her taste, put on a fresh coat of that off white color Jennie likes, come home to a house full of warmth, instead of whatever this emptiness is that lingers inside.

“Joohyun, you need to stop thinking like this. This town is meant to be a fresh start for you”

Irene breaks free from her stupor and enters the house. It’s cozy despite not having been lived in for a while. She leaves her suitcase at the foot of the stairs and circles the living room to see if all her things were brought over by the movers as instructed. She sees one box left untouched on top of the kitchen counter - on the side of the box, the letter “J” written boldly with permanent marker. Irene makes her way towards the kitchen and carefully opens the box. Her hand reaches for the contents inside but thinks better of it. She hurriedly closes the box, carries it in her arms, and stores it away underneath the staircase cabinet.

Irene lets go of the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding since she opened the box and finds herself falling down on to her couch. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She counts down to 10 like her doctor told her and exhales. She tells herself it's working, that it's enough to take away the skeletons that weigh her down.

Irene stands up with renewed confidence (or naivety – she isn’t quite sure which is which at this point). Maybe it’s neither. Maybe it’s both. Whatever the case, she’s determined to start a new life here although she’s still unsure what a new life actually means for her.

“Okay, Irene. You got this. Unpack all your stuff and get ready to meet all your patients tomorrow. There are lives that need saving in this town”, Irene says to herself.