Page 54 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
‘Knock on wood.’
‘Namhae is beautiful, you know. You’ll love it! Hang on, let me show you!’
Haneul reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. He is scrolling through his camera reel as Timira looks at him eagerly when her phone rings.
‘Go ahead, answer the call. I’ll wait.’ Haneul’s voice is warm like fresh toast and sweet like honey. He stretches his arm out, taking away the mug she has been holding all this while and gestures at her to take the call. The familiar knot in Timira’s stomach is threatening to come back.
Reluctantly, Timira breaks free from Haneul’s gaze and steps away to answer. The call is from an unknown number.
‘Hello!Yeobusaeyo!’
‘Hi, Timira!’ A high-pitched voice trills at the other end of the line.
Timira groans silently on recognizing the owner of the voice.Wah, kya timing hai chudail ki!
* * *
NAMHAE, KOREA
‘Aniyeyo, Halmeoni! C’mon. How can I forget about you? I swear, I’ve just been neck-deep in work. See! I’ve come to see you as soon as I could!’
Haneul’s octogenarian grandmother pouts a little and pretends to be busy tending to a bush of dainty pink English roses. Ramrod-straight and still fit as a fiddle, she had retired a few years back and moved to the idyllic location of Namhae island where her company had set up a world-class medical rejuvenation centre and spa.
‘Oh, Halmeoni! Won’t you smile for me?Baegeuppuda! Won’t you feed me? You won’t make mejapchae? You know I sooooo miss the ones you make!’
Haneul bends a little to match his grandmother’s grand height of 154 cm and lightly grabs her shoulders.
‘Wae? Why are you disturbing me? Can’t you see I’m busy? Go and sit quietly. I’ll ask the cooks to make you japchae!’
‘But I wantyouto make me some!’
Seeing Haneul throw a tantrum like he would as a child mollifies her a little. She softens her tone but continues to complain.
‘What took you so long? What if I died waiting for you? Why do you young ones forget old people?’
Haneul feels a stab of pain in his chest and wraps his arms around the diminutive body of his grandmother.
‘Mianhaeyo, Halmeoni.Jeongmal mianhaeyo[Really sorry]. I’ll visit often, I promise.’
Resting his face on her cashmere-covered back, he breathes deeply and inhales her all-too-familiar fragrance—a mix of tangerine, detergent, Dior J’adore and the sun. She puts thescissors she has been using to trim the bushes down, and gently strokes his hands.
‘Let’s go in. Help me chop the veggies. I’ll let the cooks take the morning off!’
Linking his arms with hers, he gallantly leads her back into the house, a sprawling three-storied bungalow with seven bedrooms, ten bathrooms, two kitchens, a mini-theatre, a swimming pool and a wine cellar that had taken over two years to construct.
* * *
‘I’m sure you are not visiting just to see me. Did you have work at the centre?’
Haneul is now wolfing down hot, freshly made japchae, grabbing more than his steel chopsticks can manage. He doesn’t want her to worry so he doesn’t answer immediately.
‘Eat slowly or your stomach will get upset,aga!’
Haneul, face still buried inside the noodles, smiles and proceeds to eat in smaller morsels.
‘So is it work? Or are you really here to see me?’
‘I’m here for you, Halmeoni!Chinchayo.Bogossipossoyo! I missed you so much!’
