Last Night at the Café

6 | Yukgaejang

CHUNCHEON WAS AN hour and a half away from Seoul. Seollal boarded the train with a light luggage in one hand and a bag of snacks from a convenience store in the other. She had spent the train ride revising drafts of a chapter for her debut work. When she got tired of it, she pulled out her Kindle to dive into a mystery story while reaching a hand to a bag of sour gummies. When the announcement for her city was made, she roused herself and gathered her things. It was almost surreal to step foot on the platform after the last time she had left a year ago. There were far fewer people than she was used to seeing, all going their separate ways. 

The family home was located on a quiet street lined with trees. Her steps quickened as she took in the familiar sights on her way home, as if an invisible force tugged at her, drawing her closer to the streets and the shop fronts of her childhood. She had opted to take a bus from the train station. Instead of waiting for a second bus that would trawl up the hill to her neighbourhood, she had decided to make the journey on foot. She almost regretted it, for dragging her luggage up the slope was a wrist-wrenching weight to be reckoned with, but the familiarity of the sights made up for it.

There was the fruit stall with the gruff ahjummeonim who would sneak her a handful of blueberries whenever she accompanied eomma on shopping trips, the family restaurant that sold hot bowls of soup noodles and the desert shop she often visited with friends.

Their names made a turn of her head as she recognised the third booth through the windows, the one they usually occupied. They would discuss the latest K-pop news, fuss over homework and gossip about the boys at school.

As traces of the commercial part of her neighbourhood petered out, residences started to appear. Neatly trimmed lawns and wide walkways made their appearances.

A laugh left her as she spotted two white faces pressed up to the window of her house. As she fitted her key into the lock, pounding footsteps resounded within the house, together with squeals and shouting.

"Maru-ya! Hwan-ah!" she exclaimed as she burst through the door.

A clamouring greeted her as piping voices rose in rapid questions fired to her.

Hwan toddled behind his older sister, jumping up and down as he fought to be noticed.

"Imo!" they yelled as they bundled themselves into her legs.

"Ah!" she called out as a warning as she stopped in the middle of the hallway, her hands raised. "Let me wash my hands first before I pick you up."

"I grew taller!" Hwan blurted as he bopped up and down on his feet. "Taller!"

"Aigoo ya, Hwan-ie grew taller!" she cooed as the children dashed after her to the bathroom. "Did Maru grow taller too?"

"Ne!" the girl exclaimed at the top of her lungs. One pigtail was askew, bobbing precariously on the top of her head.

"Tell your eomma I'll put my things in my room first, alright?"

Seollal nipped up the stairs and ducked into her old room to change out of her clothes. The family got more careful especially with eomma's health. With her immunity already compromised from the cancer treatment, the onset of the pandemic meant the family had to be extra careful.

Seollal's things had been left as they were. Despite having moved to Seoul, she had returned frequently enough to not see the need to pack her things away. But over the year, with the pandemic rearing its ugly head all over the world, eomma had stripped her mattress of its bedding and covered it with a plastic sheet.

The sheet had been removed just yesterday, replaced by a cartoon-print bedsheet stretched over the mattress. Left empty for a year, her room seemed cold and almost impersonal, with her chair tucked neatly into her desk, her bookshelf too clean and devoid of dust, and her bed empty of the stuffed toys she could not bring with her.

"There you are!" unnie called out as she poked her head into her room. "The children wouldn't leave the window. How was the ride?"

She made a face as she proceeded to unpack her luggage.

"There was this person in the same cabin as me who kept sniffling so I changed seats. Then some ahjumma sprayed sanitiser and after that it got stuffy." Then she nodded at her empty bed. "Where are my kids?"

Unnie let out a laugh as she shook her head.

"Hanging on the laundry line. Have you eaten?"

A sigh of relieve left her. She had almost thought eomma would fulfil her threat of tossing her stuffed toys away when she wasn't around.

"Not yet. Did eomma cook?"

She followed her sister down to the kitchen and past the hallway that was lined with framed photographs of the family over the years.

"She made yukgaejang," unnie said. "Appa just got home too." Then she cast her a glance over her shoulder. "Oppa and Cho Rong unnie haven't been coming ever since she got pregnant."

"They're really fast, don't you think?" Seollal remarked. It had been a while since she saw her older brother and her sister-in-law. The restrictions meant they couldn't travel as freely as before. "They had Chung Hee last year and now she's pregnant again."

Her sister batted her on the arm with a grin.

"We're all working from home now. What else do you think they do in their free time?"

"Well, that's good," she quipped happily. "More babies for me to play with."

A scoff left her sister.

"Our Aunt was here yesterday. She was telling eomma if you don't find a boyfriend soon, she will matchmake you to the son of her friend's second cousin."

"No way!" she exclaimed before bursting out in laughter. She squeezed past her sister, knowing the questions that would come next. Ever since her move to Seoul, her family had been concerned about her social life. Naturally so, for she knew no one in the large city. Unfortunately, this concern also extended to the men - or lack thereof - whom she met.

"She said he's handsome and he's just like you!" unnie called out.

"Just like me? What is he? A teacher too?"

She stopped just at the threshold, one hand on the doorframe as heightened voices floated out.

"Why don't we just tell her? She needs to - "

A frown crossed her brow at the seemingly private conversation. Behind her, unnie hovered with a questioning gaze.

"It's not an easy thing to say," came eomma's quiet tone. "You know we've never talked to her about - and you know she doesn't like talking about her.

"We have to tell Seollal anyway. It's only right."

She stepped into the kitchen, a chill travelling up the soles of her feet to her spine.

"Eomma? Appa? What are you talking about?"

Her mother's hand closed around an envelope as she looked up, her eyes growing wide.

"Seollal ah."

~

A / N

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