It Ends with Us • Kim Mingyu

[nineteen]

"Oh, you're here. You took forever."

After the lock makes a beep sound, Mrs. Kim pokes her head out of the door. My eyes nearly widen. I take a step back, thinking she might come outside and greet us, but after a minute passes, she still stands inside like a reluctant teenager being compelled by her parents to get the door for a stranger. A voice inquires in my head, "Is this Minseo, perhaps?"

To prove its credibility – no one but to myself – I take a good look at her. It happens within seconds. Not too conscious, not too clandestine. I look forward and then around. This woman looks substantially young, a kind you'd see when you pass by a university in Seoul. She has a circumspection in her eyes that's hard to miss. It makes you think what you're going to say to her; is it the right thing, perhaps? Will she be able to see through my dubiousness? Will she correct me, or keep it to herself as a personal register of all my shortcomings?

"Miyeon?"

I nod.

"Have you been well?"

Mrs. Kim shrugs. "I've been – nothing much goes around here, anyway. How about you? It must've been a long road."

She has a pleasant voice. Her words are delivered with utmost clarity and straightforwardness. Even a simple statement such as that makes me think. 

"It's been a few hours. We would have arrived earlier if it wasn't for the commotion in the alley. I forgot its name. What was it..."

Losing momentum, I look at Mingyu. "It didn't have a name," he says casually. "You know the one by that real estate agency? Two blocks backward from the primary school playground. We took that."

Mrs. Kim breathes in emphatically. "Nothing ever happens there. Strange." She says. With her head slightly tilted downwards, she seems to be attempting to recall past incidents regarding that alley to rebuke her remark, however, ends up shaking her head.

"Whatever, it must've been a long road. Miyeon, come inside. Mingyu, carry her stuff."

"Not even a minute and you're making me do all the chores." Mingyu twists his mouth in a goaded manner and pulls down at the strap of my backpack. He slings it over his shoulders, gestures Mrs. Kim to open the door further and both of us fish inside.

"You didn't bring a suitcase?" Mrs. Kim asks, not sure addressing who. She adjusts the round neck of her deep blue maxi dress, nudging it backward. The oversized strapless fabric must make it uncomfortable for her bend down, even if she's inside her own house. She folds her hands carefully over her belly, waiting for an answer.

"It's inside the car." Mingyu says. He kicks off his shoes in front the in-built shoe rack, but then gently places them inside one of the squares. "I'll get it tomorrow. We don't need anything from there today."

Until then, I didn't know Mingyu brought along a suitcase. Just how many days are we planning to stay? I wonder as I pull down the zippers of my boots. They're hard to come off standing, even more now that I have one hand occupied with the shopping bags.

"I'll hold it for you." Mrs. Kim tugs at the mass of paper strings. Transferring those five bags to her wrist, she peers inside through the gaps the stapler pins have left at both ends. "What are these?" She asks.

After struggling much with the chains, the boots finally come off my feet. I place them next to Mingyu's square. I turn to Mrs. Kim. She looks at me with a curious raise of eyebrow. Where's Mingyu? He seems to have already gone inside with the rest of our stuff. 

I don't mean to feel resentful about it, but a sense of abandonment suddenly leaks out of the surface inside me. Mingyu could've waited, at least until I undid my shoes. What's the rush now?