This Burns My Heart (30 page)

“You have no reason to envy me. Things turned out so well for you.”

“Only because of you, Soo-Ja. If you hadn’t dragged me out of that first marriage, out of that vile drunk’s house, I would never have met Woo-suk.”

Soo-Ja waved her gratitude away. “Don’t credit me with that. You would have left him eventually.”

“No, I wouldn’t have,” said Jae-Hwa, and Soo-Ja could tell she meant it. “I didn’t have the courage. Lucky for me, Woo-suk doesn’t hit me. I don’t think he has the energy.”

“Jae-Hwa! You’re going to shock all my guests. How long are you in town for? Do you have time to go to a coffeehouse?”

Jae-Hwa gave her the broadest of grins. “Only if the time is spent wisely. Let’s speak ill of other people!”

“Excellent. Let me just tell Miss Hong to watch the front desk. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jae-Hwa smiled, with her lips sucked in, as if holding her breath, then began tapping her purse with her gloved fingers while Soo-Ja went looking for the chambermaid. Miss Hong was not in her station, or in any of the guest rooms, and Soo-Ja did not see her housekeeping cart anywhere. Soo-Ja then realized she had not seen her all morning, and some of the rooms had not been cleaned yet. She was about to walk to the second floor and look there, when she decided, out of some instinct she hoped would be proved wrong, to check her own room instead.

When she neared the door, Soo-Ja could hear her husband’s voice. He spoke in a familiar manner, without the honorific -
io
at the end of each sentence, as if talking to a social inferior.

“I do a lot more around here than people think. Just today, I went to the bank to deposit some checks. And the day before, I ran some errands for Soo-Ja. She acts like it’s all on her shoulders, but it’s just part of her martyr act. She loves playing the victim.”

Soo-Ja abruptly slid the door open. Miss Hong was there, indeed, and looked quite startled to see her. Min sat next to her on the floor; they were playing a game of baduk. It looked like Min was winning, his black pieces surrounding Miss Hong’s white ones on the wooden board. Or was it the other way around, and Miss Hong’s white pieces were the ones actually encroaching upon the black ones? Soo-Ja could never tell, looking at the game like this, with all the pieces next to one another. Both Min and Miss Hong looked at her like small children, sheepishly.

“Please don’t keep Miss Hong away from her duties. She has better things to do than to entertain you,” Soo-Ja said to Min, coolly, before turning to Miss Hong and telling her to watch the front desk in her absence.

When Soo-Ja turned the corner, into the hallway, her mask of confidence slipped, and she felt her anger rise to the surface. It was one thing to know in her head, and something else entirely to catch them together like that. She took a deep breath and fought back her tears.

So they really were sleeping together.

Soo-Ja felt humiliated. Had Min done this to get back at her? And to get back at her for what, exactly? Soo-Ja wondered. She supported him financially, gave him money for alcohol and cigarettes. She knew they didn’t make love very often—Soo-Ja was terrified of getting pregnant—but if he were to have an affair, did he have to choose someone so close at hand?

As Soo-Ja walked back to the front desk, she tried to put on her best smile and pretend nothing had happened. She wanted to be fun and light, and entertain Jae-Hwa on her only day with her in years. And she didn’t want Jae-Hwa to lend her the money because she felt sorry for her.

But when Soo-Ja got back to the front desk, she could feel her face drop with disappointment, and an ominous feeling came over her. Jae-Hwa was talking in an animated manner with, of all people, Eun-Mee. They were holding each other’s hands like old friends, though she knew they must have just met, and their heads were thrown back in raucous laughter. When they saw Soo-Ja, they looked almost sorry to be interrupted.

“Soo-Ja, I didn’t know you had such charming friends here in Seoul! The wife of a doctor!” Jae-Hwa exclaimed, impressed.

“And you, the wife of a manufacturer!” echoed back Eun-Mee, the two of them establishing an instant sorority.

“And I, the wife of—” Soo-Ja trailed off, smiling sardonically.

Jae-Hwa looked at her, a little embarrassed, while Eun-Mee seemed to be not at all sorry. Soo-Ja reached for her coat and her purse. “Are you ready, Jae-Hwa?”

“Yes. And oh, by the way, do you mind if Eun-Mee comes with us? She said she loves coffeehouses!” said Jae-Hwa.

Soo-Ja was amazed that the two could strike up a friendship so quickly; once again, she had underestimated Eun-Mee’s charm. She was like a mugger with a gun, but instead of your wallet, she wanted your affection, and she could get you to drop it in front of her in seconds.

“Eun-Mee, could I please speak to you in private for a moment?” asked Soo-Ja.

Eun-Mee made buggy eyes at Jae-Hwa, to signal her puzzlement, before following Soo-Ja into her office. Once in there, Eun-Mee smiled at Soo-Ja coquettishly, like a bad student trying to avoid her teacher’s dressing-down.

“This is not just a friendly outing. I have things to discuss with Jae-Hwa,” said Soo-Ja, hoping to reason with her.

Eun-Mee nodded slightly. “Does this have anything to do with the rumor that you’re trying to buy land from Gi-yong Im?” asked Eun-Mee innocently.

Soo-Ja tried to hide her surprise. How did Eun-Mee know about that? Had she listened in on one of her phone calls?

“Your friend doesn’t seem like the kind who likes risky investments, though,” Eun-Mee continued.

“How did you hear about—”

“Oh, I don’t care. I’m just bored, and desperate for social activity,” Eun-Mee interrupted. “I promise to take long powder-room breaks at the coffeehouse, in order to give you ample time to bore Jae-Hwa with your plans.”

“Eun-Mee!” called out Soo-Ja behind her, trying to stop her. But it was useless. Eun-Mee had already sauntered out of the office and rejoined Jae-Hwa in the lobby.

Jae-Hwa rushed toward them. “Are we ready? I’m feeling left out! And you’re all right with Eun-Mee coming, of course?”

Soo-Ja could tell from Jae-Hwa’s eager eyes that she could not refuse, and if she tried to, Jae-Hwa would bring Eun-Mee anyway.

Soo-Ja was not much of a coffee drinker, nor was she a great fan of tea, though she drank yulmucha, boricha, and ginseng tea sometimes. She liked yulmucha for its thickness—it reminded her of soup, and when she drank it, she enjoyed its warmth tickling her throat. Boricha looked a bit like dirty water, which she sometimes suspected it was—it barely tasted like anything. But if she couldn’t sleep, it was what she turned to. She drank a cup and almost dropped to the ground, so fast was its effect on her. She liked ginseng tea the most, and loved stirring the teacup, watching the thin white layers of circles appear and disappear, as if they wanted to hypnotize her.

The three women were sitting in the middle of the coffeehouse, Soo-Ja drinking tea and both Eun-Mee and Jae-Hwa drinking espressos. The coffeehouse, which had an English name, “Room and Rumours,” was fairly crowded, either because of all the shoppers from the adjacent shopping mall, or because, like Soo-Ja, all of these men and women had small residences and preferred to meet guests in teahouses or coffee shops. They came for the convenience of a second home, and the establishment in fact looked like your average abode, with long-leaved Chinese happy plants in the corners, wooden-boarded walls, and practical fluorescent lights above. The only differences were the small oak chairs and tables (they did not sit on the floor there), and the sound of
trot
singers crooning their sad ballads from the jukebox.

“I wonder if they have American music in the jukebox,” said Jae-Hwa. “I just got back from New York last month, and I love what they play on their radio stations.” Jae-Hwa had taken her white hat and gloves
off, and Soo-Ja could see she had an emerald ring on her finger. Sitting next to Jae-Hwa, Eun-Mee looked elegant in a form-fitting burgundy dress with a high, upturned collar and sleeveless arms. Soo-Ja found it too formal, but Eun-Mee did not look out of place there—people often stopped in for a drink of coffee before heading to the theater or a party. Now used to seeing her every day, Soo-Ja knew of Eun-Mee’s habit of dressing up for no reason. She suspected Eun-Mee’s motto might be
Look the part, and you’ll win the part.
Soo-Ja wondered if she herself came across as the other two women’s maid, in her simple zebra-striped housedress, and her long dark hair held back only by her ears. She could tell it bothered Eun-Mee, though, that as men walked by, it was Soo-Ja’s eyes that they tried to catch the attention of.

“I love America!” proclaimed Eun-Mee. “But I don’t like Americans. I love shopping in Manhattan and on Rodeo Drive. This purse is from a store there”—she pointed to her Fiorucci bag—“but the people! Especially in California. They have such pink faces, and the men look like the women, and vice versa—long hair and long eyelashes and lazy grins! I hate them!”

“Don’t be shocking now. What if there was a serviceman sitting right behind you?” asked Jae-Hwa.

“I’d tell him to go home already! And to stop staring at my neck!” Eun-Mee replied.

Jae-Hwa laughed.

“I’m sure they would love to go home,” Soo-Ja interjected, “but they’re here to protect us. We should be thankful to them.”

“They’re not really here for that reason,” said Eun-Mee, rolling her eyes. “Why do you think they chose to be stationed in Korea? They have an eye for us Oriental ladies! Yes. That’s why they come here, and stay here. I would not be caught dead near an army base. I wouldn’t be safe. They would drag me in and caress me, and tear my clothes off, and ravage me, a room full of them, taking turns at me. Those men, they haven’t seen a woman—a real woman, not a prostitute—for ages. They have stored up all this passion, all this hunger—they would tug at my breasts like wolves, those blond-haired boys, mouths still wet from suckling mother’s milk.”

Jae-Hwa smiled at Eun-Mee. “I’m tempted now to kidnap you and leave you by the border, just to see what they’d do with you.”

Eun-Mee lightly slapped Jae-Hwa’s wrist, and Jae-Hwa turned her palm up and playfully squeezed Eun-Mee’s hand. “Don’t joke like that. I’m just explaining how I feel about the Americans, who are so different from the Europeans. Have you been to Switzerland?” Eun-Mee asked Jae-Hwa. Jae-Hwa nodded, and Eun-Mee continued. “It’s like being home—all those mountains! When the snow covers up all the signs and the streets, I do not know where I am anymore. And I love that first night after the first flurry, when the sky is white and clear, and you can almost read outside. Have
you
been to Switzerland?” Eun-Mee asked Soo-Ja, as if remembering her presence suddenly.

“No, I’ve never been.”

“Have you never been to Europe? No London, no Paris, no Istanbul?”

“No,” Soo-Ja said, smiling.

“What about America? New York? Los Angeles? Boston?”

“I’ve never been there, either,” Soo-Ja said, still smiling.

Jae-Hwa placed her hand on Soo-Ja’s arm; Jae-Hwa had a warm smile on her face—the kind you reserve only for people you’ve known for a long time. “When we were in high school, Soo-Ja always wanted to travel. Before any of us did. She almost went to diplomat school in Seoul. She was going to be a diplomat, and travel to every country.”

“And did you?” asked Eun-Mee.

“No, it didn’t quite work out that way,” Soo-Ja replied.

“You must not have wanted it badly enough. You probably gave up too easily,” said Eun-Mee.

“Yes, that was probably it,” Soo-Ja said, trying to end the conversation.

Jae-Hwa started patting her hand, as if apologizing for Eun-Mee.

“See, if you want something in life, you have to go after it!” Eun-Mee exclaimed to Soo-Ja enthusiastically. Soo-Ja nodded lightly and gave her a half smile. “You can’t be tentative. That’s how I got married to my husband.”

Soo-Ja turned her head toward her. She had to hold herself back, resist the temptation to say,
Go on. Tell us more.

“I’m sure he proposed on the first day he met you. A woman like you wastes no time,” said Jae-Hwa.

“I knew at once when I saw him, standing with a group of men outside Pusan University Hospital,” said Eun-Mee, smiling, glad to be holding her audience’s attention like fish in a net. “He wore a Western suit and pleated pants, so incredibly handsome and confident, and I thought,
I would like to be your mother!
”

“Eun-Mee!” Jae-Hwa cried out, laughing.

“I want to tuck your shirt in, and feed you soup when you’re sick, and help you with your homework!” said Eun-Mee, waving her arms in front of her. “That is when a woman knows she is ready to be a wife—when she decides to mother!”

“I would
strongly
disagree with that, but go on,” said Jae-Hwa. Neither of them noticed Soo-Ja’s silence.

“Anyway, I invited him to come to a pageant I was in and after that we began to date a little bit, going to music rooms where we’d sit side by side on the soft velvet chairs while we listened to Bach recordings. We didn’t do much—he was as chaste as Chunhyang in that fairy tale, and I call it a fairy tale because who would wait so long for a lover who gives no sign of returning?”

“There must’ve been somebody else. Was he courting another girl at the same time?” asked Jae-Hwa, and for a second Soo-Ja turned to her nervously, wondering if she knew about her and Yul. But she couldn’t; Soo-Ja had never told her.

“No, there was nobody else. Just a memory. He’d talk about this girl he met while he was in medical school in Daegu. He talked about her like a country he had been to once and always intended on going back to. He claimed she was just an acquaintance, but I knew better. Whenever we were together, I could feel her presence between us, no matter how gay or loud I became. She was always there.” Eun-Mee stopped, her expression uncharacteristically distant. The entire room seemed to grow silent, out of sympathy.

It was strange, for Soo-Ja, to hear her story from Eun-Mee’s perspective. She sounded so powerful, when in fact she had been so helpless
all along the way. Soo-Ja would have given anything to switch roles with Eun-Mee, just so she could have Yul’s body, and be able to feel his weight against her. It was nice, thought Soo-Ja, to hear that she had had Yul’s thoughts, but his thoughts alone could not warm her on a cold night, could not fit into her. Now that she knew how extravagantly Eun-Mee had had his touch—every night, for years!—Soo-Ja felt starved for it.