Read That Was Then... Online

Authors: Melody Carlson

That Was Then... (18 page)

“Most definitely.”

“But my family was very traditional. Very conservative. And I wanted to be a modern woman.” Now she holds her chin out firmly. “I did not want to marry the man they had chosen for me. I wanted to go to university, and my teachers were confident that I could easily get my degree. My brothers had gone to university. But not my sister. She was already married with children when I insisted on going to Puson National University. Everyone in our family was shocked when my father agreed. I was the first girl in the family to do this.”

“Good for you,” my dad says.

“Good and bad.” She frowns. “My mother was very angry with me. She told me and the whole family that it would not go well for me, that I would be ruined by this experience. And that if I brought shame to my family, I would not be welcome to come home.”

Okay, I have a pretty good idea where this is going.

“This might be hard for you to understand, Kim. You are still young and such a good girl. I could blame it on the influence of American films or my friends, but once I was out of the confining shelter of my home, free to do as I pleased at the university, I made some bad choices. I trusted the wrong people. And during my second year at university, I found myself with child.”

We pause as our soup is served. And as usual, my dad bows his head and says a brief prayer.

“I appreciate that you are Christian,” Jin says after he’s done. “I have read some about Jesus Christ, and I think He was a good man.”

I smile at Dad.

“We think so too,” he tells her.

“And I don’t want to keep asking you uncomfortable questions,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to spoil this meal with—”

“No, no.” She waves her hand. “I want to tell you the truth. Yes, it is humbling to me. But I want you to know everything.”

“Okay.”

“Yes, okay…” She pauses as if trying to remember where she was in her story. “Oh, yes. I tried to keep my pregnancy secret from my parents. But my mother had spies at the university.” She smiles. “Not actual spies, of course. Just friends. Her friends. Not mine. They told her about me.”

“She must’ve been really upset,” I say.

“Terribly.”

So then I quickly tell her about Natalie and how angry her mother had been, but how she eventually forgave her daughter.

“Not my mother.” She firmly shakes her head. “She took her anger to the grave with her.”

“That’s too bad.”

“The only one in my family who will still speak to me is my oldest brother. He is like you—a Christian—and he has forgiven me.”

“Good for him.”

“Yes. And good for me.”

She tells about how she took time off from school,
how the father of the baby gave her money but didn’t want to marry her. “I did not want to marry him either,” she says. “Except for my shame. But I gave birth at the hospital and when I saw you—” she pauses to look at me again—“I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And I decided I would keep you.

“But it was not so easy. My parents cut off funds. My boyfriend disappeared. I had a job, but to work and continue my studies and be a mother to an infant…it was just too much. I was overwhelmed, and then I got sick. And finally I remembered the baby home I had seen before. And I asked my friend to take you there for me.” She looks down at her untouched soup. “It was a very sad day.”

Now Dad reaches over and pats her on the arm. “It was a joyous day for my wife and me. The happiest day of our lives was when we came over to Korea to pick Kim up. You gave us the most precious, wonderful gift, Jin. I can never thank you enough for letting us have her.”

Jin nods with tears trickling down her cheeks. She reaches into her purse for a handkerchief and blots her nose. “Yes, yes, I believe you, Mr. Peterson. And I am equally thankful.”

Then we all quietly eat our soup for a while. It’s good that it’s only soup and is easily swallowed. And fortunately it’s delicious, a creamy asparagus and chicken soup with a touch of rosemary.

With the hard story out of the way, Jin tells us about
how she got back into college. “My father began to secretly send me money through another friend—a real friend—this time. And although I wasn’t welcome in their home, my father saw to it that
I
completed my education. That meant a lot to me. After that I got a job with a corporation that is owned by a friend of my father’s. I never knew if my father helped with this or not. He died shortly after I began to work there. But it is a good place to work, and I have steadily advanced. I have the highest position for a woman.”

“Congratulations,” I tell her, feeling actually proud.

“Yes. It is a good accomplishment. But not without a price.”

“What’s that?”

“No marriage, no children, no family.”

“Your job doesn’t allow you to—”

“No, no…it was my choice at first. With long hours and traveling so much, I knew I wouldn’t make a good wife. Certainly not according to the standards I’d grown up with. And then later on, when I was in my thirties and actually considering marriage…” She forces a stiff smile. “I sometimes say that fate dealt me a bad card—but perhaps it was because of my past.”

“What happened?” I say this and instantly regret it. “I mean, I totally understand if you don’t want to tell us…”

“I became sick.” She looks directly at me now, and as if she’s not completely comfortable saying this in front of my dad, she lowers her voice. “A female kind of sickness. It resulted in the inability to have children—
ever. And that’s when I decided it would be unfair to any husband in my future. And so I have remained single.”

Her finely arched brows lift. “Free to do as I please, go where I like. Eat dinner in or out. Date a variety of men or simply stay home and read a book. And truly it’s not so bad. Some of my married friends are quite envious.” She smiles sadly. “You see, I am a truly modem woman.”

By the time we’re finished with dinner, I feel like I really know her. “Will you still be in town tomorrow?” I ask as we’re leaving the restaurant.

“I can be.”

“Would you like to come to our house?” I ask suddenly. “I can fix dinner. I’m not the greatest cook, but I—”

“She’s a good cook,” my dad assures Jin.

“That sounds lovely.”

“My best friend lives down the street, and she really wants to meet you,” I explain. “Would you mind if she came too?”

She laughs. “Not at all. I would love to see where you live, Kim. And I would love to meet your friend.”

So it’s all arranged, and my dad even offers to pick Jin up on his way home from work. And when we get home, I immediately call Nat, fill her in on all the details I can remember, and finally tell her the good news about tomorrow night. And she is ecstatic. “I can’t wait to meet her. She sounds so cool.”

“Maybe you can come over early and help me?”

“No problem.”

“I really want to do this right,” I explain. “Jin is kind of sophisticated, and I think she’s used to the best, you know. I just really want everything to be as perfect as possible.”

Nat laughs. “And to think this was the girl who didn’t want to meet her birth mother.”

“Yeah, yeah…It’s weird, I know.”

We chat a little longer then hang up, and I sit down to write all this in my diary. Even as I write, I feel like it’s hard to wrap my head around what happened tonight. Just thinking that the classy woman we had dinner with was actually my birth mother, that I have this authentic genetic connection to her. Well, it just seems a little unreal.

Then reality kicks in, and I realize it’s Sunday and I need to get some letters for my column done. I wonder if I should tell Jin about this secret part of my life. I mean she is, after all, my birth mother, and she lives so far away. Like who would she tell? I decide to run it by my dad first. But I think it would be cool if I could tell her. I think she’d be impressed. And for some reason I want to impress her. Is that weird?

Dear Jamie,

I totally hate going to school and would do anything to avoid it. I keep asking my mom to let me do homeschool instead, but she says to forget it. The reason I hate school is because of these girls who
always pick on me. It’s like I’m their favorite form of entertainment—all they do is try to embarrass me and make my life completely miserable. Sometimes I actually want to kill myself. What should I do?

Hopeless

Dear Hopeless,

This is so wrong! And I am so sorry that you have to suffer like this. You need to talk to someone about what’s going on. And you need to do it NOW. First you need to tell your parents. And then you need to make an appointment with your school counselor and tell her/him exactly what’s going on, hopefully with your parents present. Tell about specific instances, and give names. It’s up to the school to make sure that you are safe there. If they can’t protect you from bullies, maybe your parents should consider homeschool. I suggest you let them read this letter.

Just Jamie

Seventeen
Monday, March 12

Nat and I went to the grocery store after school today. I had no idea what we were going to fix for dinner, but I wanted it to be something sophisticated.

“No Hamburger Helper tonight,” I told Nat as we cruised the aisles with an empty grocery cart.

“Pasta?” she suggested.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, you don’t want to fix something that’s tricky,” she warned me. “That could blow up in your face and be really embarrassing.”

I was trying to remember what my mom used to do when Dad was having an important business associate over for dinner. I know she did roast sometimes, but I think that took a long time to cook.

“How about fish?” Nat asked as we walked by the seafood section.

“Fish?” I paused with the cart and looked at the various types of fish behind the glass case.

“Can I help you, ladies?” asked a short man with white hair.

“I’m not sure…”

“She’s having a special guest for dinner,” Nat started to explain. “But she doesn’t know what to cook.”

He smiled. “We have some nice Atlantic salmon.” He pointed to a bright orange piece of fish.

“I’ve never cooked fish before,” I said.

“Oh, it’s easy. I even have a recipe right here for baked salmon that almost anyone can make. I have the seasonings all mixed up and everything.”

“Really?”

“It only takes about twenty minutes to bake.”

The next thing I knew we were getting salmon, and this old guy was recommending what we should have with it. And I have to admit, it did sound easy enough. Small red potatoes that “only take twenty minutes to cook,” he told me. “Just put them in when you put the salmon in.” Then he recommended a green salad with some special touches and finally told us about a special gourmet bread that would be nice with the salmon. “It’s from a new bakery in town.”

“What if I mess this up?” I said as we waited in line at the cash register.

“We’ll just order in,” said Nat.

“Should I get some flowers?” I asked as I noticed some bouquets right by the register.

“Why not?”

So I picked up a pretty arrangement of irises and laid them on top of my other groceries.

“Special night tonight?” the woman at the cash register asked as she started to ring up my purchases.

“It’s for her mom,” Natalie told the woman.

For some reason that rubbed me wrong, and I tossed Nat a look.

“I mean her birth mom,” she added, as if that made it better.

Now I’m sure I was glaring at her.

“Well, that’s nice,” the woman said as she handed me my change. “I bet my kids will never do anything this nice for me.”

“Sorry,” Nat told me as soon as we were out of the store. “My mouth just kind of ran away with me.”

“It’s okay.”

“But I don’t see why it should bother you, Kim. I mean, she is your birth mom. It’s no big deal.”

“I know,” I told her as I put a bag in my Jeep. And while I did know this, I also knew that something about that conversation bothered me. A lot. And it had to do with my real mom. The one who isn’t here anymore. I suddenly felt disloyal to her. And when the cashier mentioned how her kids never did anything like that for her, it got me thinking about how I never did anything like this for my mom. Not really. And that hurt.

“You’re being quiet,” Nat said as I pulled into my driveway. “I hope I didn’t really offend you.”

I shook my head and turned off the Jeep. “Just thinking.”

We took the stuff inside and started putting it away. But as I moved around in Mom’s kitchen, I was feeling worse than ever. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt like I was cheating on my mom. Cheating on her in her own kitchen.

“This is wrong!” I finally said, tossing down the paring knife so it stuck into the cutting board.

“What?” Nat actually jumped.

“Fixing this fancy dinner for Jin. It’s so wrong.”

Nat frowned. “Why?”

“It’s disloyal to my mom.” And now I started to cry.

“Oh, Kim.” Nat set the lettuce she’d been washing down into the strainer and came over to me and gave me a hug.

“I feel like I’m—like I’m cheating on Mom.” I sobbed now. “Like I should’ve fixed a dinner like this for her when she was here and alive. And instead I’m doing it for Jin—the woman who—who threw me away eighteen years ago!”

Nat patted my back. “She didn’t throw you away, Kim. She made a really, really hard choice so that you could have a really, really good life. She made it possible for your mom to have you. Jin gave your mom the most precious gift possible. Your mom never would’ve had you if it hadn’t been for Jin.”

I stepped back now, reaching for a paper towel to
wipe my nose. “But why does it feel so wrong then?”

“Because you love your mom. And you miss her. And that’s perfectly natural.” Nat shrugged.

“But that doesn’t really explain it.”

“Maybe you feel guilty because you like Jin too. I mean, you didn’t want to like her. You didn’t even want to meet her.”

“I know…”

“So somehow you’re twisting things up in your head. You’re thinking that just because you like Jin and want to treat her well…that it somehow means you love your mother less.”

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