AAE -- For Better For Worse

Part 3 -- Chapter 35

by LoveCR2

edited by All-About-AAE

 

 

Mae-Young sits at the dining room table, bent over her paper, pencil scratching with steady strokes. Festive red banners and paper lanterns brighten the reception room walls. A crouching orange-and-black cartoon tiger smiles from a poster. Fai chun blessings are taped beside the door.

 

"I miss Auntie Lin," she says. "When she coming back?"

 

"Next week, after New Years," Sun-Mi answers from the couch.

 

Jun-Ae fusses in her arms. She moves the baby to her other breast, and the mews fade into quiet suckling.

 

 

"I miss Daddy." Jae-Young pouts, dropping his pencil with a clatter. "Why he not home?"

 

"For the last time, Daddy's in Manchester -- remember? He'll come home tomorrow, so we can go to church together Sunday."

 

"Why Daddy hafta go 'way?" his voice rises, whining.

 

"Because a lot of people depend on Daddy for their jobs," Sun-Mi explains patiently. "Next time, he promised to take us to see the new bakery. Won't that be fun?"

 

"I want a jelly doughnut."

 

She smiles. "Only if you stop asking the same question all day."

 

"Mmm..." he murmurs, picking up his pencil again.

 

 

The phone rings. Sun-Mi reaches carefully, shifting Jun-Ae so she won't stir. She glances at the caller ID, then at the clock. Eight p.m. here -- five a.m. in Seoul.

 

"Auntie Jin?" her voice tightens. "Is something wrong?"

 

"Your father got up without his walker and fell again."

 

Sun-Mi gasps. "Is he okay?"

 

"We're at the ER now. The doctor suspects a minor fracture. He's in X-ray, so I had a moment to call."

 

Sun-Mi exhales sharply. "Why can't Daddy be more careful? Just use some common sense?"

 

"You know how stubborn he is. He doesn't learn."

 

"Then, you won't be coming for New Year?"

 

"Even if it's not a fracture, he's badly bruised. He'll need rest. I'm sorry."

 

Sun-Mi's eyes drift toward the dining table. "The kids were so excited to see their grandfather."

 

"I know. But I've gotta go," Gwi-Sun says. "They're bringing him out. I'll text you."

 

"Okay. Bye."

 

Sun-Mi sets the phone down, sighs, and shakes her head. "It's like having to worry about another child."

 

 

"Mommy! Mommy!" Jae-Young calls, waving his paper. "See what I drew?"

 

Sun-Mi glances up. "What is it?"

 

"A train. Like Daddy takes home."

 

"That's nice."

 

Mae-Young points her pencil at the sheet. "That's not a train."

 

"Sez who?"

 

"Sez me. Trains don't have square wheels. That's silly."

 

Jae-Young scowls. "I'm not silly. You're silly!"

 

"No. I'm smarter. And faster!" Mae-Young shoots back, eyes gleaming.

 

"I catch you."

 

She grins. "Just try."

 

Mae-Young and Jae-Young shoot from their chairs like rockets. Arms pump, bare feet slap the floor as they tear around the table. She veers for the couch. He chases after, hot on her heels.

 

"Eeeeeeee....." Mae-Young shrieks as she streaks past Sun-Mi.

 

Startled, Jun-Ae unlatches with a wet smack. Her eyes squeeze shut, tiny fists flailing. "Waaahhhh...."

 

Sun-Mi looks up sharply. "May! Jay! Stop it!"

 

Mae-Young skids to a halt. Jae-Young doesn't -- he piles into her, and they tumble across the floor, a rolling knot of giggles.

 

"Enough!" Sun-Mi snaps shrilly. "You're scaring the baby!"

 

The laughter dies instantly. Both children sit up, eyes downcast.

 

"It's past bedtime," Sun-Mi announces evenly. "Go upstairs and get ready. No story time tonight."

 

"Awww..." Jae-Young begins, but his mother's narrowed glance silences him.

 

"After I finish with Jun-Ae, I'll come for prayers and tuck you in. Now march!"

 

They rise and shuffle toward the stairs with muted footfalls. At the landing, Jae-Young turns and sticks his tongue out.

 

Sun-Mi hides a smile, whispering under her breath, "Just like his father." She sighs. "I WAS overly harsh."

 

 

She rocks Jun-Ae gently. The baby settles, nuzzling back to her breast. Rapid, shallow sucks soon slow and deepen as the milk starts flowing again.

 

Sun-Mi leans back into the cushions and closes her eyes. The children's footsteps fade -- only the baby's soft suckling and the steady tick of the clock remain.

 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Sun-Mi descends the stairs, wearing her nightgown -- a red La Perla silk and lace chemise -- gliding down on Jimmy Choo black satin mules. At the bottom, she stretches her arms over her head as a yawn escapes. The reception room lies hushed. Peaceful.

 

Through the window, a pale crescent moon peeks through heavy clouds. Snow frosts the buildings across the street with a thin white blanket. Dark trees rattle their skeletal arms in the brisk breeze. A chill wafts across the room, raising goosebumps on her bare arms and shoulders.

 

Stopping at the sideboard, she pours herself a glass of red wine, then crosses to the couch, the stiletto heel taps echoing. Settling on the couch, she smacks her ruby-glossed lips, flutters her mascaraed lashes, and lifts the glass.

 

"Thanks for the New Year's gift, Senior," she purrs. "Sorry I couldn't wait another day to wear it. You didn't have to go to such expense, but..." She smiles impishly. "I'm happy you did, it's perfect! Too bad you're not here to see me now. But I'll make it up to you tomorrow night. -- Cheers!"

 

She takes a long swallow and sets the half-empty glass down, reaches for her Bible under a stack of papers, then pauses. Sighs. Leaving the wine and the Bible behind, she rises and turns toward the kitchen.

 

Passing the dining table, she sees Jae-Young's drawing and chuckles, smiling, "He really did make the wheels square."

 

At the sink, she ties on a waist apron, pulls on rubber gloves, and lets the water run. Dishes clatter as she methodically scrubs and rinses, moving them to the drying rack.

 

Her phone rings. Looking up, she quickly strips off the gloves. The caller ID displays an unfamiliar number. She hesitates -- probably Senior calling from the hotel -- then presses TALK and puts the phone to her ear.

 

"Hello?"

 

A deep male voice answers, parsing her name deliberately. "Jin ... Sun ... Mi?"

 

"Yes. Who's this?"

 

"It shouldn't be hard to figure out. Did you think you'd get away with it? That I wouldn't find you?"

 

Sun-Mi draws a sharp breath. "Manager Chin! -- How did you get this number?"

 

Byung-Ho sneers, "You've made quite the reputation around Soho. It wasn't hard."

 

She grips the phone tighter. "What do you want?"

 

"Five years ago, your betrayal cost me everything. I figure about five hundred thousand pounds will settle things."

 

"I didn't betray you -- you cheated me!" Sun-Mi fires back. "And I don't have that kind of money. You'll have to deal with my husband!"

 

"That useless sod? I can snap him like a matchstick if I wanted. This is between you and me."

 

"But I already told you..."

 

His voice darkens. "That handsome boy of yours should fetch a tidy sum on the open market, right? As for that pretty little girl..."

 

Sun-Mi slams the phone shut, heart pounding.

 

 

The front door buzzer blares. She hurries to the intercom and speaks into it. "Who... who's there?"

 

Byung-Ho's voice crackles through the speaker. "I'm here to collect. I know you're alone..."

 

Sun-Mi releases the button, cutting him off.

 

 

She rushes to the window. A dark van idles at the curb, headlights off. A faint cloud of exhaust puffs from the tailpipe. She yanks the drapes shut.

 

The buzzer sounds again, harsher.

 

Sun-Mi snatches up her phone, flips it open, poised to press '999'. Back at the intercom, she shouts, "Go away! Or... I'll call the police!"

 

Her forehead rests against the door. She listens. Silence. Waits -- still nothing.

 

She exhales, then snaps the phone shut. Staggering to the couch, she collapses onto it. Hunched forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together, she stares vacantly at the closed drapes. Gradually, her breathing eases, her heartbeat slows. She pulls a fallen shoulder strap up into place, brushes her hair back, and rests against the cushions. Shivering from the room's chill, she hugs herself for warmth.

 

Her gaze shifts, eyes catching the stairway -- her warm, cozy bed beckons. Standing, Sun-Mi tugs the bow of her apron loose. It falls with a quiet swish of fabric. She heads for the stairs, heels lightly clicking, soft silk brushing her smooth thighs.

 

Then she pauses. Looks at her phone.

 

"Senior..." she murmurs.

 

She starts to tap in his number...

 

Downstairs, the latch rattles. The door groans open. Slams shut.

 

 

Sun-Mi freezes, her hand trembling. The phone slips from her fingers, clattering on the floor.

 

One... Two... Three... She counts the heavy footsteps climbing, echoing up the stairwell. Four... Five...

 

Her chest heaves with shallow, ragged breaths. She puts a hand over her thumping heart, fingers tense against delicate lace.

 

"My babies," she whispers.

 

She bolts for the kitchen. Seconds drag as she fumbles with the childproof latch, then jerks the drawer open.

 

Twelve... Thirteen... Fourteen...

 

Her fingers close around a chopping knife. The eight-inch blade gleams under the light.

 

Seventeen... Eighteen...

 

She flicks off the kitchen switch, then moves swiftly through the reception room, extinguishing each lamp. Darkness swallows the room. Only a thin glow seeps around the edges of the heavy drapes.

 

Twenty-four... Twenty-five...

 

Behind the door, Sun-Mi presses her back against the plastered wall. Her damp skin turns clammy on the cold surface. She flexes her legs. Steps out of her mules. The smooth hardwood chills her bare soles.

 

Twenty-eight... Twenty-nine... Thirty...

 

A soft thud shakes the landing. She raises the knife, point upward.

 

Sun-Mi tenses, holding her breath. Her heart hammers in the silence.

 

The knob turns. The door swings open without a sound, a long shadow stretching across the floor. The light switch clicks once... again.

 

A voice mutters, "What the...?"

 

Sun-Mi's lips move soundlessly. 'Lord, be my strength and my shield.'

 

The floorboards groan under a step.

 

Her muscles coil. Arms extend, pointing the knife.

 

Another step creaks.

 

Sun-Mi lunges around the door, thrusting upward.

 

But the man reacts intuitively. The knife slices air.

 

A strong hand immediately clamps her wrist. Another wrenches the blade away.

 

She struggles, twisting to free herself. The knife flashes -- turned against her now. A scream dies in her throat. Her strength drains. She collapses to her knees.

 

"Take me. D-do what you want with me," she pleads, her voice hoarse, frantic. "But please, spare my babies!"

 

The knife strikes the floor with a metallic ring. The grip on her wrist loosens.

 

Hyung-Chul drops to his knees and gathers Sun-Mi into his arms. Sobbing, she buries her face in his shoulder.

 

His voice is low, soothing. "What's going on? Why the knife? Are the children okay?"

 

She clutches him tighter, the lump in her throat choking off words.

 

His hand strokes gently through her hair. "Whatever it was, you're safe now. Everything's going to be all right..."

 

She shakes her head, her voice breaking, "No... it won't. Manager Chin -- he's back."

 

Sun-Mi lifts her face, meeting Hyung-Chul's surprised eyes.

 

"He threatened to take our children. To pay back my debts."

 

Hyung-Chul blinks. "What?"

 

Her voice rises, "Senior... I'm scared! It's too dangerous here. Let's go home... to Seoul."