Se-na could see the steam rising in slow, lazy curls, and she knew with thirty-two years of her experience that what she was about to do would hurt her. Every instinct in her body was telling her to stop, to wait, but she ignored them; picked up the spoon and started to eat.
The porridge hit her tongue like a punishment. Her eyes watered immediately, but now finally she had a convenient excuse ; these new tears of physical pain masked the ones she couldn't name. She took another spoonful, the heat blooming in her chest like an explosion, but she didn't stop.
"Ra-ik-a, it's too hot! Slow down!"
But Se-na didn't stop nor slowed down as if she couldn't hear. She wasn't being stubborn, she just couldn't stop because she was afraid that If she stopped, then the reality would catch up to her. And she was afraid of that.
Her lips were already quivering just like a little child's and a heavy lump had formed in her throat; so instead of stopping she just silently took another. Old woman was watching her; as her fingers hovered near her wrist, trying to still her hand.
"Aga... you'll burn yourself. Wait a moment, child."
"I'm... I'm fine," Se-na managed in a muffled voice that was stuttering wreck. Tears were falling steadily into the bowl.
This is strange! Why on earth am I crying in a stranger's kitchen! wearing a shirt with a cartoon bear! But despite everything she couldn't reach an answer.
So she just lowered her head more, hiding her face in the steam, taking spoon after burning, damn spoon; afterall It was the only way for her to keep herself from screaming the words climbing up her throat; the only way to keep from confessing that she was an imposter, a thief stealing a her God knows mussing grandson's warmth. She ate to keep the impossible weight of her ego and her secrets down. So she just kept on punishing herself with scalding hot deceiving herself with lies pretending that they were not her tears but ra-ik-a's or from pain; absolutely not at all, impossibly her owns.
The only other sound in the room was the clink of the spoon against ceramic and her own undignified wet sniffling.
But just a moments later a sharp intake of breath sounded next to her. Se-na finally looked up and saw that the old woman had her hand pressed firmly over her mouth. Her eyes were swimming, her face a map of ancient and youthful sorrow all at once. But as she noticed her grandson looking at her she picked up her own spoon and started eating. In between eating she reached across the table and silently held Se-na's hand, holding it gently, as if it will keep her from breaking.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, bound together by the hot porridge. But that's what a family is... despite all odds and turns they end up sitting together on the same table, silently keeping each other's back.
Finally, grandmother mustered up her courage and asked in a voice that was worn thin, but was trying to sound cheerful for a child, "How is it, Ra-ik-a?"
Se-na didn't lift her head. She tried to force a smile, a stupid little attempt to make the air lighter. "A little more salty now..."
The dark joke was a damn mistake. A delicate trigger point for both of them.
The moment the words left her mouth, her own smile faltered. Grandmother's grip on her hand tightened, and then the old woman's strength broke completely. She covered her face with both hands, and the sound that came out of her was so raw that it made Se-na's chest hurt. It wasn't a loud cry, but a broken, guttural sound full of years of suppressed hurt.
Se-Na was pinching her thigh... don't cry don't cry you never cry ... Don't!!!
She turned her face away quickly and squeezed her eyes shut out of pain of her cries and regret of her joke. her brows were rebelling. So she bit her lower lip trying to force the pain back inside. She looked back to her bowl and tried to start eating again but her spoon shook violently in her hand. She desperately tried to take a bite, to act like she was still okay, to act like she was the cold, capable Dr. Maeng.
I am not Do Ra Ik!!! I am Maeng Sae Na!!!
She once again tried, took a deep breath, trying to pull her lips into a small smile.
but it was too late... spoon slipped from her trembling fingers and fell softly into the bowl with a tiny, final clatter.
That tiny sound was the end. She again held the spoon.
But finally desperate effort failed as well shattering her strong facade. And she broke down. One hand over her eyes, other still holding the spoon.
Across the table, the grandmother lowered her hands and looked at Se-na through the blur of her own weeping and she couldn't resist no more, she stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the floor and before Se-na could react, old woman was beside her, arms open, pulling her in.
The moment Se-na fell into that warm, cedar-scented embrace, something in her gave way completely. She clutched at the old woman's clothes, her small fingers bunching the fabric, and sobbed against her chest. She was no longer trying to be calm or brave or professional.
She was massaging her chest, "Grandma...ma... it... it hurts..." she painfully managed between racking sobs.
Grandmother let out a painful sigh holding her more tightly, one hand trembling against the back of her head, the other around her small body as if she could keep all the pain from reaching her if she only held on hard enough. They cried together in the amber light of the kitchen, while the porridge sat forgotten and cold between them.
.....
Bedtime arrived with the inevitable, quiet gravity.
The bowls were rinsed. The lights were flicked off. Se-na silently allowed herself to be led into the small bedroom, grandmother tucked the quilt around her firmly, the way one wraps a fragile instrument.
"Aga... my lion... my baby...Sleep now," the old woman whispered. "Tomorrow is..."
Before she could continue, the front door of the house sounded to be opened by someone.
The sound of wood striking plaster cracked through the house. Se-na sat bolt upright, her heart hammering against her ribs. Footsteps, heavy, rhythmic, marched down the hall. Every cell in the little boy's body recognized that gait and do did se-na. It wasn't the good hearing or instinct; but a biological terror that went straight to the bones.
Do Hyun-joo cried down in the lounge.
He stood in his morning suit, with his invisible jaw line , flat eyes and arrogant face that was devoid of any warmth.
Grandmother motioned the boy to stay in bed and herself went down.
The boy didn't listen Se-Na tried to keep herself from following but the boy's conscious pulled her out with the blanket.
Do hyun Joo had a suffocating energy like a man who believed the rules of other people's spaces did not apply to him.
"Ahjumma," he said. His eyes were fixed on the little boy behind the old woman on the staircase.
"Look at him," his voice dripping with casual cruelty as pointed at him. "Sitting there in that ridiculous shirt, sniveling like a stray. You think this is a sanctuary? You think he's something to be pitied?"
He stepped closer to the old woman as if trying to overshadow her. "He is a bastard. Not my son!!! A mistake that keeps demanding more than he's worth. He doesn't need a bed, and he certainly doesn't deserve your love. No worries I will teach both of them all lesson for playing with me like this...now I will play with these sewage rats."
He turned his gaze to Se-na, his lip curling in a sneer. "Get up, you piece of rotten meat...let's see your bitch of a mother together."
He started to head towards the shivering boy.
....
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