This Burns My Heart Page 0,83

looked around at the laughing faces, their glee prickling at her ears.

Eun-Mee curtsied. She had a performer’s uncanny ability to draw everyone’s attention to her. You could be walking through a crowd and you’d notice her. Soo-Ja thought about how at one time, she, too, had that quality; but that had been a long time ago.

She slowly retreated from the crowd. She wanted to get away before someone pointed at her, or discovered that the shoes were hers.

“What’s happening over there?” asked Hana, when Soo-Ja sat down next to her. “Can I go look?”

“No. It’s nothing,” said Soo-Ja, digging into her plate with her fork, and trying to maintain her composure. “I wish they’d put more chili pepper paste in my bibimbap. I’m not sure it’s spicy enough.”

There was about an hour or so delay from the start of the meal to the end, at which point everyone would write their choices down on tiny pieces of marked paper. About halfway through the meal, Soo-Ja noticed that Eun-Mee, who had chosen not to sit with them, had changed seats again and gone to eat at a different table from the one she started at.

Eun-Mee fit into the restaurant about as well as a mermaid, with her long, curve-hugging white gown, much more expensive than anything the other women were wearing. She also carried a fan with her, decorated with the peony rose, one of the three flowers of ambition. Eun-Mee fluttered the fan in front of her, concealing half her face, and she seemed to make a point of avoiding women her own age, talking only to older members of the gye, which was what she was doing right now, sitting next to a grandmother.

Soo-Ja turned to Hana and, speaking quietly so as not to attract the attention of the other two families near them at their table, told her to walk by Eun-Mee and see if she could find out what she was doing. A little too theatrically for Soo-Ja’s taste, Hana cleared her throat, put down her chopsticks, and leaned forward, asking the woman seated across from her if she knew where the bathroom was.

Soo-Ja watched as Hana lingered next to Eun-Mee’s table, with her back to its occupants. Hana positioned her body so that she was right behind Eun-Mee and the other women didn’t notice her. She remained in her spot for a few minutes, until she drew the attention of one of the waitresses, who told her to return to her seat.

Soo-Ja turned to her expectantly, but Hana said nothing as she sat down, shaking her head. According to Hana, Eun-Mee was simply socializing. They continued their meal in silence, with Soo-Ja feeling foolish that she had asked Hana to spy on Eun-Mee. But then, a few minutes later, as a waitress began to go from table to table serving small plates of sliced tangerines, Soo-Ja saw Eun-Mee get up once again, and instead of heading back to her original table, she went to yet another one, her third of the night, where she sat next to a senile-looking old woman, presumably to enjoy dessert with her. Soo-Ja was about to ask Hana to go stand near her again when, much to her surprise, Hana leapt out of her chair without her prompting, again feigning a need to go to the bathroom.

“It looks like I’ve had too much tea. That boricha goes right through your system, doesn’t it?”

Soo-Ja followed with her eyes as Hana walked toward Eun-Mee’s new table, not too close lest she be noticed. Hana did not know what to do with her own body, and she stood there awkwardly at first, until a friendly ajumma emerged, and Hana engaged her in brief conversation. After a few minutes, the ajumma finally disengaged herself and Hana had no choice but to return. This time, however, Eun-Mee noticed her, and she shot her a strained smile, aggressively flaring her nostrils. Hana stared back at her with uncharacteristic fear, as if confronted with Medusa. As Hana almost ran back to her table, Soo-Ja could see Eun-Mee watching her, too, her lips shaped into a disdainful frown.

When Hana sat down, Soo-Ja took advantage of the fact that the woman across from them had the entire table engrossed in a tirade of hers—about how the widows of Cheju Island had no business diving for shellfish naked—and she asked her what she had overheard.

“I couldn’t really tell at first,” whispered Hana, “but it sounded to me like Eun-Mee offered Yoon-Shin