startled by this. “If you’re the oldest, then everything belongs to you—including the responsibility. Why would your father not trust you with the business?”
“Well, he didn’t want me hanging around the factory,” said Min, his voice taking on a self-satisfied drawl. “The girls who work there kept flirting with me. These working-class girls see the owner’s son, start getting ideas. You have to be careful with women. I don’t have to worry about Soo-Ja, though, she and I are of the same class.”
“How lucky for you,” said her father gruffly. “Now let me ask you, when these factory girls were—say, coming on to you—was there any girl in particular? Anyone particularly aggressive?”
Min hesitated, his nostrils flaring a bit. “They’re obedient girls. But they’re trouble.”
“Your brother doesn’t seem to have a problem ignoring them,” said Soo-Ja’s father, staring into Min’s eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Abeoji, please stop grilling him,” Soo-Ja interjected. “Min is a guest in our home. Do you want him to leave and tell everyone about how you treat people?”
Soo-Ja’s father suddenly banged on the floor with his hand. “Yes, spread the word. Tell everyone.”
“Abeoji, please,” she said. “Give Min another chance to—”
“You should go now,” her father cut in, looking at Min.
Min remained on his spot, his head lowered to the elder.
“I said you can go now,” Soo-Ja’s father repeated.
Soo-Ja did not look up as Min stood up and, after bowing to her father, started making his way out of the room. He rushed out, as if the departure had been his idea, as if he’d been the one who’d decided they weren’t good enough for him.
After Min was gone, Soo-Ja ran outside to the courtyard. It had started to rain, and Soo-Ja could feel the drops prickling against her, and the puddles on the ground making her steps slippery. Unsteady, she rested her hand against a pine tree, its battered branches almost breaking. She was on her way to her room, on the other side of the courtyard, when her father—who had followed her—tried to get her back into the main house. They remained between rooms, at an impasse.
“What makes him think that he can marry you? Was he first in his class? Is he a doctor or an engineer? He didn’t even finish college!” yelled her father. His eyelids struggled to stay open, and his clothes quickly became wet.
“I don’t care about that,” Soo-Ja said, trying hard not to shiver. Her long, wet hair covered her entire face, with clumps sticking to her mouth, and strands creating lines over her eyes.
“Don’t care about that? A boy like him—with no education or professional skills—he would be laughed out of a matchmaker’s meeting!”
“But he comes from a good family! They own a factory,” said Soo-Ja, her breath catching in her throat.
“For a firstborn to be sent away from the family business, he must have done something very bad,” said her father.
Soo-Ja looked over to her mother’s room and saw the lights come on. “We woke up Mother.”
“He is unacceptable in every way. And he is the oldest son. Do you know what it means to be the wife of the oldest son?” asked her father, coming closer to her. “You would have to be responsible for the entire family. Do you know how much work that is, having to serve your in-laws? Does he have brothers or sisters?”
“He has one brother and a sister.”
“Well, at least he doesn’t have a lot of siblings, but the ones that he has you’d be expected to help raise, and this in addition to your own children. Soo-Ja, being married to an oldest son is a lot of work.”
“Appa, I know you only want the best for me, but there is nothing to worry about. I have always made good decisions, haven’t I?”
Soo-Ja’s father stood still for a moment, his clothes growing heavier, soaked by the rain. “It is a losing proposition to always be right when it comes to little things, but then be wrong on the big things.”
Soo-Ja knew her father was right. Marriage was serious business. The choice of a husband was the only time a woman could exert her will. Choose wisely and have a chance at a decent life. Choose wrong and have endless time to regret it. Her husband would dictate the rest of her life—her social class, her daily routines, her very happiness. And yet, knowing her father might be right only made her dig her heels further into the ground.
“Well, at least this