Page 88 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
The interpreter continues, “She was worried when Mr. Kim returned by himself without Miss Yuna.”
“No need to worry. It’s my pleasure,” Tony says. “Yuna is our good friend.”
The interpreter whispers to Yuna’s mom, who then murmurs something back.
“She’s grateful you feel that way. She’d like to know which one of the ladies is Ivy?”
“That’s me,” I say, surprised she has no idea what I look like. Didn’t Yuna show her any pictures or anything?
Yuna glides over and whispers into my ear, “Don’t be too upset when she starts.”
“Starts what?” I whisper back, bracing myself for whatever’s coming.
Yuna apparently didn’t hear me, because she adds, “I’m sorry she’s doing this, because she can’t ever remember foreign people’s faces. She claims all white people look the same.”
Uh, what? Does she have a memory problem too?
Before I can ask Yuna to clarify, her mom comes over and holds my hands in hers. Her palms are softer than a baby’s butt, her fingers tipped with long, perfectly lacquered pink nails. She says something to me.
The interpreter says, “Lady Min is grateful you’re alive. It was highly distressing to her daughter when the incorrect news of your demise arrived.”
Yuna’s mom gestures Tony closer. When he and I are standing side by side, she studies his face, then mine, then back his…then mine again. Her eyes are sharp and piercing. I feel like a kid who got caught doing something she shouldn’t have.
She says something to Yuna.
“What?” I say.
“Mom just…uh…read your faces. She says you have good, strong features. Most likely to have lots of good, strong children and a wealthy marriage.”
I’ve heard about palm reading, but face reading? I didn’t know you could tell from that just by looking at our features. Besides, didn’t Yuna just say her mom thinks all white people look the same?
Yuna’s mom looks at me and Tony expectantly.
He looks too disturbed to answer. We were just talking about our wedding ceremony. Good, strong children probably aren’t even on his list of top one hundred things to think about right now.
“Thank you,” I reply, since that’s the polite thing to say. “I love children.”
She beams.
Tony smiles too, but I’m close enough that I sense him stiffen. Did I say something wrong? Or is it Yuna’s mom who’s making him nervous?
She says something, and the interpreter asks for our birth dates in lunar calendar and time.
Yuna finally steps between us, and her mom and says something in rapid Korean.
Her mom pulls back, then explains something, gesturing with her arm.
Yuna takes her mom aside, whispering furiously.
“What’s that about?” Tony says, his voice a little taut.
“I don’t know.” I run a hand along his arm. “Are you all right?”
He gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t brighten his eyes. “I’m fine. Just surprised at what she was saying.”
“The wealthy marriage or the kids?”
Hesitation. “Kids.”
