I am so shocked that I actually gasp. My hands fly to my stomach.
“How did you know?” I say.
“I have eyes,” she snaps. “And a brain. And your reports have been the worst I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something because they were never very good.”
I stare down at them and nod. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I don’t know if I am apologizing for the pregnancy or the reports.
“When are you due?” Her voice is crisp. I can feel her eyes boring holes into my skull.
“September ninth.”
“And have you talked to HR?”
“No…”
“Good.”
I look up in fear. She settles back in her chair and sighs.
“I am going to tell you this now very clearly,” she says in a weary voice. “I cannot spare you because there is a companywide hiring freeze on top of a giant round of layoffs coming our way. Honestly, if there wasn’t a hiring freeze, I would have fired you a long time ago, but now I have to make do with you because if I lose even you, I can’t replace you and that is more work for the rest of us. Do you understand?”
I nod silently.
“We have four new projects coming up in the second quarter of next year. If we don’t deliver on them, this entire department will be gone. My boss has told me that this project is a test to determine whether to keep us or not. Now, if the department goes, I will stay because of my position. I will just be moved to another department. Everyone under me, however, will be laid off. So I don’t think it’ll be quite fair for you to take a long maternity leave when your colleagues will all be working to save their livelihoods, do you? Especially when we don’t have the head count to add anyone else?”
She is looking at me and looking through me at the same time. I wonder why she did not tell me to close the door. My first instinct, always, is to be secretive. The fact that she is talking about cosmic events in my life in such a matter-of-fact way has me gasping for air again. But she is waiting for a reply.
“Yes,” I say.
“Yes, what?”
I plead with my eyes. Just tell me what you want me to say.
She blinks and sighs again.
“I think the most we can spare you for is three months. Let me rephrase that. We cannot spare you at all, but if you absolutely must take maternity leave, then I will leave it to your conscience. In light of this information, I trust that you would not apply for more than that. Or let me put it this way. If we do not perform well and the entire department goes, then you will have as long a maternity leave as you desire.” Her sarcasm slices the air.
“You know, in America, they have three weeks of maternity leave. Or something like that. Anyway, I am sorry the situation is what it is.” She frowns darkly, and when I don’t say anything, she waves her hand at me to leave. I stand up and bow deeply.
* * *
—
AT MY DESK for the rest of the afternoon, all I can do is stare at my screen and do mental calculations. If I have to return to work after three months, then we will have to hire an ajumma until my daughter can enter a state-run daycare, when she turns one. Perhaps I could find a cheap one for around 1.5 million won. It would only be for nine months, I tell myself. Bora probably overpays for a good one. Maybe her ajumma even speaks English.
If this job goes away, I will not be able to find another one. That I know for a fact. No one will hire me, because even this job I got through my husband’s father’s connections when he was still working. There will be no use looking for another job. And if I don’t have a job, we will not