This Burns My Heart Page 0,49

desperately wanted to see Yul. It would be foolish to be in Pusan and not look for him. So the day before she was supposed to return to Daegu, she decided to track down his address. She got it rather quickly, just by asking the telephone operator, who told her of a Dr. Yul-Bok Kim practicing in the Suyeong-gu district, near the city’s busiest marketplace. The woman also gave Soo-Ja directions, telling her which bus stop to get off at. (“On the way back, you should try the fish market. Squid like you’ve never tasted it.”) Soo-Ja wrote down the street name on a piece of paper and stared at it for a long time.

She knew she didn’t have much time, and that she couldn’t bring Hana. She couldn’t subject her child to the ride on the bus and the walk in the cold wind. But Soo-Ja feared asking Mother-in-law to watch her, as she’d bombard her with questions. The boys she couldn’t trust, since they were rowdy and unreliable and would probably leave Hana forgotten by the side of the road, while they threw snowballs at one another. That left Na-yeong, a poised eighteen-year-old, old enough to have her own daughter now. She’d never shown much interest in Hana, preferring her Bible and hymnal books, but Soo-Ja figured she’d do her this favor.

“Where are you going?” Na-yeong asked, taking Hana’s hand as Soo-Ja offered it to her. They were standing by the front steps of the house, with everybody else scattered about.

“I have to get some of my shirts mended, I left my good ones in Daegu,” said Soo-Ja, looking down at her clothes.

“Can’t this wait until we get back? And why can’t you take Hana with you?”

“If you don’t want to watch her, just tell me, and I’ll ask Du-Ho. He seems to have more maternal feelings than you,” said Soo-Ja. She reached back for Hana, as if she were an exotic gift from abroad and Na-yeong simply too uncultured to appreciate her.

Na-yeong held on to the child. “It’s fine. Go, eonni. I’ll watch over her,” she said, calling her “older sister.”

Soo-Ja turned to Hana and kissed her head, feeling enormously guilty. It was rare for Soo-Ja to leave her behind; Hana was always beside her or strapped to her back, wherever she went. Soo-Ja looked at her daughter and waited for her to tell her not to go, to ask for her to spend the day playing with her. But of course, Hana just said, “Bye, eomma,” and focused back on the doll she had in her hands. Soo-Ja wavered a bit. Was she on a fool’s errand? But things had been set in motion now. She knew that if she didn’t go—even if it was just to see what Yul looked like now, even if it was just to gather one more memory of him to last her another four years—she would regret it, and taste that regret on the rim of every glass she drank from thereafter. Then, as Soo-Ja put on her heavy winter coat, something in Na-yeong’s demeanor made her hesitate. A sadness fell over her, like sudden hail, and Na-yeong suddenly seemed as old as Mother-in-law herself.

“Iseul never asked for a second meeting.” Na-yeong was talking, of course, about her suitor. The only one she’d ever had. Soo-Ja wasn’t sure whether she was asking her a question or stating a fact, so she simply nodded. “He barely spoke to me that day. He was too busy admiring you.”

“There’ll be other suitors, Na-yeong. You’re still very young,” Soo-Ja said gently.

“The first time is the only one that counts. Were you afraid I’d make a better match than you?”

“I can’t imagine a better match than your brother,” Soo-Ja said, not hiding her sarcasm.

“I’ve been so mad at you. And you haven’t even noticed. Could you tell I’ve been giving you the silent treatment?” Na-yeong looked terribly sad, more sad than angry, and Soo-Ja felt as if she were seeing her for the first time. Na-yeong was always so quiet that Soo-Ja had made the mistake of assuming her silence indicated a kind of nothingness, when inside her there must actually be drums and waves and peaks.

“I didn’t mean to ruin that day for you, Na-yeong.”

“Why didn’t you sing my praises to him? I’m sure he was impressed that you chose to marry into our family. Your words would have counted for a lot.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the right person to be selling other