“What do you mean, Taeyeon?” mom inquired innocently.
“You heard me,” I repeated, feeling Tiffany squeeze my hand. I glanced over at her, who was also looking at me in concern.
“Taeyeon…”
Tiffany gave me a smile, patted the back of my hand reassuringly, and stood up. “I’m sorry if my father has caused you any trouble,” she said, facing my parents and bowing deeply, “I know how selfish and unempathetic he is and would never apologize for doing—”
“Tiffany, please stand up,” mom urged, grabbing Tiffany’s arm.
“Thank you, Tiffany, but you need not apologize for him,” dad announced, turning to me afterwards. “It’s true, our work has to do with him. It’s also true that we were once friends, but it’s because of that fact that your mom and I are doing what we’re doing now. I hope you can understand when we say that we can’t tell you more, especially with him being in the country now.”
“Dad, what are you saying?” mom said in panic, tugging on dad’s arm.
“It’s ok honey, she deserves to know what kind of a situation she’s in right now,” dad explained, turning to me. Mom thought about it for a while and nodded, conceding the point to dad.
There were two things I gleaned from that exchange. The first was that, obviously, my parents were aware of Tiffany’s father’s whereabouts. It seemed more likely than not that my parents were actively tracking his whereabouts, but I couldn’t be sure on this; where they tracking his every move? A CEO such as himself travels frequently, doesn’t he? I would imagine that tracking such a man would get exhausting after some time. Maybe the extent to their tracking Tiffany’s father extended only to whether or not he came to Korea, in which case they would take necessary measures? I wasn’t sure.
The second thing was that they were extremely weary of him. They even seemed to be cautious of him on my behalf; while I didn’t believe I was in immediate danger as they would act more radically if that were the case, there was definitely some kind of interaction between him and me that they were careful of. Since mom and dad’s work was sensitive on top of the fact that I was their daughter, maybe they were scared that he could get me to leak some information on the progress of their work? But how would I do that? Surely Tiffany’s dad wouldn’t imagine that I was working with my parents … or maybe he did suspect that? Either way, I made a mental note to be more cautious around answering Tiffany’s father’s questions as well as the manner in which I presented myself in front of him from now on.
“Our Taeyeon is smart, saying any more would be saying too much. In fact, we might have said too much already,” mom warned dad.
“It’s ok, we’re—” dad was interrupted as mom glared at him, which abruptly stopped him in his tracks.
Tiffany, who had shrunk to my side while I was thinking, grabbed my hand. “I need to head to work now, I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah.”
Tiffany let go of my hand, this time addressing my parents. “Mr. Kim, Mrs. Kim, I have to go to work now. It was very nice seeing both of you again and thank you for your hospitality!”
“Of course, come again any time! Sorry about all of that—what just happened and everything,” mom said as we escorted her to the foyer.
“It’s ok, you also shouldn’t be apologizing on behalf of that man—of my father, I mean,” Tiffany said, quickly locating her shoes.
“It’s unbelievable, he doesn’t even support his own child who’s out living in Korea by herself,” dad scoffed. It didn’t take a psychology minor to surmise bad blood between the two.
“It’s ok, I’m used to it,” Tiffany replied, smiling graciously.
“Still—”
“Take care honey! Feel free to stop by any time!” mom interrupted dad as Tiffany secured her shoes.
“Oh, Fany,” I called out, remembering that we hadn’t determined when to meet up with her father again. “When should—” I should be as vague as possible, probably, given what we had just learned, “—we go to that restaurant again that we went to this morning?”
Luckily, Tiffany instantly caught on, not showing a hint of catching onto something, replying, “Hm … do we have to so soon?”
“You’re free tomorrow right? We can talk about it then?” I was very aware of my parents listening to our conversation by proxy and was hoping that they wouldn’t catch on: the last thing Tiffany and her father needed was for their family time to be interrupted by politics.
“Ooh, so it’s a date?”
I chuckled, replying, “Yeah.”
“Ok!” Tiffany turned around from outside the door, “I’ll be looking forward to it!”
We exchanged our last few farewells before she departed, me being pleased with myself for not blushing at all in that exchange.
“I didn’t know our Taeyeon was this assertive,” dad teased me, patting my shoulders.
“Dad, don’t embarrass her,” mom said, laughing regardless.
Ordinarily I would’ve entertained them with a laugh were it not for a nagging thought in the back of my mind. “Dad, mom,” I said, turning around. They must’ve sensed how serious I was as they stopped laughing right away.
“What’s wrong, princess?”
“Tiffany spent the last few years in serious hardship and right now is experiencing more hardship; I don’t know what’s happening between Tiffany’s father and you two, but I would like it if you could delay it until after we solve everything.”
Dad sighed. “I wish it was that simple, princess. Your mom will yell at me if I say any more, but I’m afraid we can’t change our plan, even for you. We’ll try our best to avoid conflict, but there’s no guarantee that it won’t happen anyway,” he explained.
I nodded. Before, I might have just kept the thought to myself, figuring that there wasn’t much my parents could do anyway, but after meeting Tiffany and learning the value of being open with your thoughts—from little things like her daily compliments to me to her opening up about her past—I decided to voice my concern and was rewarded with a sense of relief.
One thing I noticed was an urgent edge to dad’s voice; I wasn’t sure exactly why, although I could surmise, but I just hoped that it didn’t clash with Tiffany’s chance of getting back on good terms with her father. It was them who taught me the value of family, and it would be nothing but ironic if it were they who interrupted Tiffany’s family time with her father.
There was also the bitter way dad addressed Tiffany’s father: it seemed like his faults didn’t just stop at being a bad father, since Tiffany’s father started turning his back towards his children after we had already moved to Korea. Did it have to do with how he acted as a businessman? If I recalled correctly, Tiffany did mention something about the nature of businessmen, and how she had a negative perspective of them.
I swung myself around in the swivel chair inside my room. It felt like it was all connected, but for it to be all connected seemed a bit ludicrous, realistically. I seriously should get into creative writing…
“Taeyeon? We’re going grocery shopping, do you want to come?”
“No thank you,” I replied, moving from my chair to my bed. Was it ludicrous for everything to be connected? How about Jessica; did she play a role in all this?
“Are you ok?” mom’s cautious voice came from the other side of the door, “I’m sorry to have suddenly revealed all of this to you, and I’m also sorry that we can’t tell you more, but it’s important to us,” she said, inserting a short pause before adding as an afterthought, in a whisper, “especially to your father.”
“It’s ok, I understand.”
Why especially dad though? Was the dynamic between my parents and Tiffany’s that the two mothers were close and the two fathers were close? If that were the case, unless Tiffany’s mom also played a role in whatever disagreement or point of contention my dad and Tiffany’s dad seemed to have, it seemed likely that my parents would’ve known of Tiffany’s mother’s passing. But that were the case, wouldn’t they be able to figure out, generally, why Tiffany was in Korea, especially if they knew Tiffany’s parents very well? Actually, maybe that explained my parent’s initial reactions at seeing Tiffany? “Well, I’m glad. We’ll tell you everything once this is all over, ok?”
“Ok, have fun~”
Mom laughed. “We will,” she responded.
I tried not to think about it for the rest of the day, which only became more and more easy when Tiffany suggested we have a picnic on the riverbank near her apartment.
Perhaps it was childish of me, but simple things like these were always events I’ve dreamed of ever since my childhood. I was so excited, my heart refused to offer me a single break even throughout the night, tossing and turning in my bed until late.
I awoke at 6am and started making the kimbap I promised Tiffany I would make right away, putting the finishing touches at 8, bidding my parents farewell as they went to work, taking another hour to stress over the presentation of the kimbap in the box I prepared, then going back and forth the remaining time, worrying about my outfit, double, triple checking that the kimbap didn’t magically move inside the container, looking up for the tenth time the location Tiffany gave me to make 100%—110%—sure that I knew exactly where to meet her, checking the contents of my boxes again, realizing I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and deciding that it wasn’t worth worrying about, then deciding to eat something quickly so I wouldn’t be scarfing down our food like a pig in front of Tiffany during the picnic, doing one last test to make sure the kimbap was truly secure inside the box even while walking around before finally departing.
Despite arriving at our meeting location a good twenty minutes early, as usual, Tiffany beat me there, standing there waiting for me with a basket in one hand and a plastic bag holding a pair of wine bottles in another.
“Aw, I thought I would be able to beat you this time,” I greeted her as I walked within speaking range.