on her lips again.
“Does Eun-Mee like the house?” Soo-Ja asked.
“Yes, especially the refrigerator.”
“Yes. It’ll make her housework easier, not having to go to the farmers’ market every day.”
“We have a maid, too. A teenage girl from the countryside.”
“Oh.”
“Actually, Eun-Mee likes everything but some of the decor. She hates the ink paintings I put up on the wall. She wants Western art, full of color and drama. But I’m not going to put my paintings away.”
“Ink paintings? Who’s the artist?”
“Actually, it’s only one. It’s the painting of plum blossoms that you gave me, back in 1960.”
“You still have it?”
“You seem surprised.”
“I am.” Soo-Ja could not hide her delight. “It’s been so long. I thought something would have happened to it by now.”
“No. It’s just as it was then. Intact. Nothing’s changed.”
Soo-Ja thought of the plum blossoms. The almost tender way the long, dark leaves gave way to the small, round flowers. “The plum blossom is associated with spring, a time for hope. It celebrates perseverance.”
“If you’d like, I can give it back to you,” said Yul.
“No. Keep it,” said Soo-Ja, smiling back. She was looking at the sky, and for a moment, she thought she could see the stars linking, forming the stems, the leaves, and the circles of the flower buds. It was as if she were painting again, and her strokes could link different constellations together. When Soo-Ja glanced back at Yul, she could see him staring intently at her. She immediately guessed what he was thinking.
“No, Yul.”
“How do you know what is on my mind?” he asked.
“The way you are staring at my lips,” said Soo-Ja.
“Mouths were made for kissing.”
“They were also made for talking.”
“Maybe if I didn’t kiss your mouth. And I just kiss… your shoulders,” said Yul, his lips pecking her clothed shoulders, and moving up from there, “and your neck, and your ears, and your nose.” He kissed each of those parts, and she felt a slight shiver each time. She closed her eyes, letting the soft touch of his lips press her recalcitrant skin. He rested his hand lightly over hers—half hovering, half grazing—and she found its weight to be at turns alarming and reassuring. She knew it was wrong—this closeness—but the night had a dreamlike quality to it, the promise of forgetfulness. With her eyes shut, Soo-Ja pictured Yul kissing her—he’d kiss her like a sigh, his love filling her lungs. But when he tried to do so, she opened her eyes and pulled away. His face remained in midair—homeless, orphaned. It hurt to say no, when there was nothing she wanted more than to hold him and have him hold her, to kiss and be kissed back. Soo-Ja thought he’d head inside after that, but Yul remained on the same spot, standing next to her. They were like teenagers trying to figure out what to do with lips and arms and hips. They stood side by side, with their arms pressing together. Soo-Ja rested her head on Yul’s shoulder, and they said nothing more.
The next night, Soo-Ja and Yul met again. This time, the two of them grew adventurous and decided to break curfew. They slipped out of the hotel, again like teenagers, watching for police officers in the distance. At first, they moved a bit surreptitiously, constantly glancing over their shoulders for informants. But then they realized that the streets were empty, and they began their walk, their steps slow and leisurely, looking at their own neighborhood with the interest and curiosity of tourists abroad. They passed by colorful toy stores and candy markets, all built without an inch of free space between them; took in the smell of spicy soups and fried seafood still lingering in the air.
“By the way, have you ever wondered if Hana is yours?” asked Soo-Ja, smiling mischievously.
“How could she be mine? You and I have never made love,” said Yul, stealing glances at her as they walked. The night was cold, and they could see their white breaths bending and coiling in front of them.
“Still, I wonder,” said Soo-Ja, shrugging her shoulders lightly, her hands inside her pockets.
“I like that you do,” said Yul, smiling.
“You know, I never thought I’d see you again after I left you that night in Pusan, and here you are. You are here! I spend so much time thinking of all the different ways I don’t have you, but you’re right here.”
Yul turned to her, his eyes glowing with impishness. “Do you want to list all of the ways that