Epilogue 13

Epilogue 13

“It’s late. I’ll explain later. Go on now.”

Andre led her toward the master bedroom.

The night was already far spent, and her body was screaming with exhaustion as if she might collapse at any moment, yet she felt a pang of regret at the thought of parting from him. Still, she needed two days of solid rest and recovery if she wanted to be of any help with the errands on Juran’s wedding day.

“Good night, Andre de Lafayette!”

Calling out his full name, Miran placed her hand on Andre’s shoulder and pulled him toward her. He allowed himself to be drawn down, a soft smile playing on his lips, and she gave him a light kiss before opening the door to the master bedroom. She didn’t forget to peek through the gap in the door and wave goodbye.

“Goodness, are you really that happy?”

Juran, who was massaging her face—now shiny with cold cream—laughed as she watched her through the mirror.

Miran crawled straight into bed and sprawled out with a groan. She felt as though her entire body had been beaten.

The bed carried a faint scent of lotion along with a cozy aroma that was hard to put into words. Miran hugged Juran’s pillow and took a deep sniff.

In two days, Juran would have her wedding, go on a honeymoon to Guam, and then move into an apartment near her publishing house in Dangsan-dong. This meant that tonight was likely the last time they would share a bed.

“I’m so grateful such a busy man came all this way. Oh, right. Did the marriage registration go well?”

Juran asked as she spread the remaining cream onto her neck and the back of her hands.

“Yeah. They said having wedding photos would be helpful for the visa interview later, so we even took pictures of us reciting our vows at City Hall while I was in a dress. We exchanged rings, too.”

Juran turned around, her face filled with surprise.

“You said you were only registering the marriage, but it sounds like it was practically a full wedding. Your mother didn’t even know; she hasn’t prepared anything…”

“It’s okay. We decided to have the formal wedding again once I move to the States. I even bought Andre’s wedding ring with the credit card I got issued last week.”

“Oh, really? I was actually looking into various options to prepare a wedding gift for Andre.”

Miran shook her head, letting out a long yawn.

“I already blew through all the money you saved for my wedding when I went away for my language studies. Since I landed a good job thanks to that, I’ll take care of my own wedding preparations. So please, don’t worry about traditional wedding gifts or dowries. They say in America, you just exchange rings and that’s it.”

“That’s nonsense! Don’t you even think about spending your money; you save every penny of your paycheck in the bank. I’ll be the one to take care of Andre’s wedding gift.”

Juran got up from the vanity, turned off the light, and climbed into bed.

“Where did my pillow go? Miran, why are you hugging that? Give it here.”

She forced the pillow out of Miran’s arms. Miran grumbled in response and hugged Juran instead.

“What’s gotten into you? Acting like a child…”

Despite her words, Juran didn’t push Miran away.

“Mom…”

“Yeah?” Juran answered with a yawn.

“I was thinking… you were even younger than I am now when you had me.”

Miran swallowed hard.

“Weren’t you scared?”

After a brief silence, Juran’s calm voice followed.

“…I was scared.”

Miran, who had been biting her lip in the darkness, suddenly let the words spill out.

“When I was born, didn’t you resent me? Didn’t you hate me? You were so young, and because of me, your life…”

Miran’s voice choked up.

Juran rustled as she turned toward Miran. She reached out, fumbling in the dark, and cupped Miran’s face with her hands. Her fingers, heavily scented with cold cream, gently wiped the dampness from Miran’s face.

“To be honest, it would be a lie to say I never felt resentful while I was carrying you. But then you were born, and oh my… a newborn is supposed to be all wrinkly, but you were so beautiful. Everyone around me said they’d never seen such a pretty baby, and I figured it was because you took after me. Youngran and Geumran were making such a fuss, fighting over who got to hold you first.”

Juran gave a small laugh.

“Actually, at the time, I didn’t even have the headspace to think about whether you were pretty or not. So, only then did I hold you and look closely, wondering if you really were that beautiful. But then, you suddenly did that newborn smile in your sleep, right at me. I remember laughing out loud because it was so adorable and funny. And then I cried.”

Miran couldn’t hold back anymore and burst into tears.

“I feel so sorry, like I made you sacrifice your youth because of me. Thank you for giving birth to me so healthy, and for not giving up on me and raising me well. I… hic… I should be a mother like you… but I’m so immature, I can’t even take care of myself properly, sob…”

She had felt fine just a moment ago, but shock and pain always seemed to ambush Miran a step late.

Juran held Miran, whose shoulders were shaking with sobs, and patted her back.

“Our Miran… you went to America to register your marriage and came back all grown up.”

Juran’s voice was also thick with emotion. After sniffing a few times, she let out a little chuckle.

“I’m confessing this late, but when I was pregnant with you, I accidentally took cold medicine once. Every time I saw your test scores, I wondered if that was why your study brain was…”

“Ah, Mom!”

When Miran yelled out at the mood-killing remark, Juran slapped her on the arm.

“Shh! Be quiet, you’ll wake my son-in-law Andre.”

The mother and daughter held their breath for a moment, listening for any sound from the next room. In the dark room, everything was still, save for the sound of a distant car passing by and a dog barking.

“The baby’s brains should definitely take after Andre. The personality… should take after me. Right?”

Miran muttered quite seriously.

“The face… well, I hope it’s a half-and-half mix of me and Andre.”

At that, Juran chipped in.

“Just make sure you never take cold medicine, pfft—”

She couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.

“Mom! Krk—”

Miran started to get annoyed but ended up letting out a snorting laugh. Hearing that, Juran rolled over, clutching her stomach and wheezing with laughter. Miran also rolled around the bed, pounding the mattress with her fist.

And so, the final night of the mother and daughter sleeping in the same bed deepened.

The next morning, Juran boiled a pot of seaweed soup filled with plenty of beef, marking Miran’s birthday.

Miran, who had slept in and woken up late, felt her eyes grow hot as she took a spoonful of the soup. She had a sudden, lingering feeling that this might be the last birthday seaweed soup Juran would ever cook for her.

She also thought of the baby she had lost the day before—the little life that had left before she even knew it had arrived.

‘From now on, I’m going to cook and eat seaweed soup the day before my birthday,’ Miran resolved to herself.

In the evening, Youngran and Geumran joined them for a boisterous birthday party. Andre suddenly found himself acting as an English conversation partner for the children, forced to introduce himself five or six times over.

Twenty-six candles were poked into a birthday cake adorned with colorful fruit atop white whipped cream. Andre insisted that one candle should be removed, but his protest was ignored.

Surrounded by the congratulations of her family, who had gathered for Juran’s wedding, Miran clasped her hands together and blew out the candles.

‘Please let Andre and I live happily together until we are gray and old. Please let Mom’s cancer never return and let her live to a hundred. And that baby from yesterday… please don’t send them to another mother; make sure to send them back to me. I’ll protect them properly next time!’

She made her wish with her eyes squeezed shut.

The digital camera Andre gave as a gift was a massive hit among the family. Everyone marveled at how convenient it was to check the photos immediately; they took so many pictures that the memory card filled up constantly, requiring several transfers to the computer.

—

Juran’s wedding was held at the Seonil Wedding Hall in Mullae-dong, Yeongdeungpo-gu.

Miran stood side-by-side with Youngran and Geumran, who were dressed elegantly in silk hanboks. Youngran’s college-aged son and a somewhat bewildered Andre sat together at the bride’s reception desk, drawing the curious stares of the guests.

Perhaps because the bride and groom had built up so much goodwill over the years, the wedding hall was bursting with guests.

Just before the ceremony began, Youngran, Geumran, and Miran swarmed the bridal waiting room. Upon seeing Juran in her wedding dress, all three burst into tears at once. Juran’s nose turned red as well, and she waved them away, telling them to get out before they ruined her makeup.

“Juran looks so beautiful.”

“Yeah. My mom is gorgeous.”

“Goodness, to think this day has actually come.”

The three of them filed out and took their seats in the family section, dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs.

The wedding was a sea of tears.

Juran cried, Jeongseok cried, and everyone watching them felt their eyes moisten.

Miran caught the bouquet.

When it came time to take the family photo for the bride’s side, Juran, Youngran, and Geumran all called out to Andre, who was sitting in the guest area, beckoning him to join.

As he walked out looking flustered, the photographer let out a string of exclamations, saying he looked like a movie star. Miran laughed aloud when she noticed the tips of Andre’s ears turning slightly red.

Four copies of the family photo, featuring everyone smiling happily, were printed so the three sisters and Miran could each have one.

That photo eventually traveled a long distance tucked inside Miran’s immigration suitcase, finally finding its place on a bookshelf in the family room of the Lafayette residence.