“I haven’t received one either,” Mi-ja said. “Maybe it’s because we don’t have mothers to make the connections.”
My sister’s eyes gleamed. “Or maybe it’s because we haven’t been willing to share love—”
“Be quiet and do your work!” I had to stop this chatter, because I remembered how the Kang sisters used to brag about sneaking off to be with boys. Those girls were lucky they didn’t get pregnant. Come to think of it, hadn’t the younger sister’s marriage come a little too soon after her older sister’s wedding? Gu-sun’s first son was born…
“You know what they say,” my sister continued dreamily. “Having sex is ‘sharing love.’ ”
Sharing love. Now the Kang sisters liked to talk about sharing love with their husbands and how wonderful it was and how much they missed it and their men when we were away.
“I’m not so sure about marriage,” Mi-ja said. “When a woman gets married, she has the best food for three days. That must last her a lifetime. If that’s not so, why would our elders say that?”
“Why are you so gloomy today?” I asked. “You’ve always said you want to get married. We’ve talked about what we desire in our husbands—”
She cut me off. “Maybe being with a man is what we’re supposed to wish for, but maybe it just brings misery.”
“I don’t understand your change of heart,” I said.
Before Mi-ja could respond, Little Sister rang out, “Sharing love! That’s what I yearn to do.”
I smacked her hand. “Let’s hear no more talk about sharing love! Just do your work. We still have three more rows to finish before we go home.”
Mi-ja and Little Sister fell silent, leaving me to my own thoughts. Mi-ja and I both needed to get married. This was the normal path. We were clearly thinking about it all the time, even if we didn’t always discuss it. I already had my heart set on an impossible choice—Sang-mun. I hadn’t yet told my friend about my feelings for him, because I was waiting until she set her heart on someone. But her new attitude confused me. How could she suddenly not want to get married when we’d spent the last months saving money so we could buy wedding necessities?
Three mornings later, after we’d reestablished our household routines, I sent Little Sister to haul water and collect firewood. Father was still asleep, while Third Brother had tucked himself against the back wall of the house, hidden from prying Japanese eyes. I’d just gathered my tools and burlap sacks when Mi-ja surprised me by coming to pick me up. We were about to set out for the field when Grandmother beckoned to us from the little house. “Come sit for a minute. I have things to discuss with you.”
We slipped off our sandals and entered.
“The groom builds the house, and the bride fills it,” she recited.
I smiled. Here I was, on only my fourth full day home, and I was hearing the traditional words for a wedding and happy years of marriage. Mi-ja, though, kept better control of her emotions.
“Your lives have always been entwined,” Grandmother continued. “Therefore, it would be best that you marry at the same time.”
“You will easily find a husband for Young-sook,” Mi-ja said. “But who will marry me after…” She hesitated, searching her mind for what she wanted to say. “I mean, with my troubled background?”
“Ah, girl, this you have wrong. Your aunt told me that she has received interest in an arrangement for you. She asked me to speak for your family, since you were like another daughter to Sun-sil. Didn’t your aunt tell you?”
I couldn’t have been more surprised or happier, but Mi-ja’s brow darkened.
“Auntie Lee-ok will finally be rid of me.”
“In some ways your circumstances will be much improved,” Grandmother said.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, and Mi-ja didn’t ask. She looked far from joyous. I was about to start asking questions when Grandmother went on: “And you, my dear Young-sook, will be married in the same week as your sister in heart. Your mother would have been pleased to know that.”
With those words, all concern for Mi-ja evaporated. “Who will be my husband?” I asked, excited.
“And who will be mine?” Mi-ja’s voice sounded as heavy as lead.
“I didn’t see my husband until the day of my wedding,” Grandmother said gruffly, “and I was afraid to look at him for many weeks after that.”
Was she warning us that we wouldn’t be happy with our husbands? Mi-ja gripped my hand. I squeezed back. No matter what happened, we’d always have each other.
The next day, again, dawned heavy with heat and humidity. I was used to working in the water, so I was accustomed to having my body washed clean every day. Now, for the sweet potato harvest, I had to be grateful that my clothes didn’t show as much dirt as was already on them or would be added today and that the persimmon-juice dye kept them from smelling as bad as they could, but my face twisted at the unpleasantness of it all as I stepped into my trousers and pulled a tunic over my head. After my father, grandmother, and brother were fed and settled, my sister and I started toward our dry field. We met Mi-ja at her usual spot in the olle.
“Auntie Lee-ok and Uncle Him-chan told me I have to do chores for them today,” she said. “But can we meet at the seaside for a talk and swim tonight?”
Already sweat trickled down the back of my neck, so I readily agreed to her plan. After a few more words, Mi-ja walked away, and my sister and I continued to our field. We pulled up sweet potatoes, sweated, drank water, and repeated the whole routine again and again. Every time I straightened my back, I saw the ocean in the distance, shimmering and inviting. I looked forward to tonight’s swim with Mi-ja. Or maybe we’d just sit in the shallows and let the waters swirl around us. Healing. Soothing. Reviving. Without a drop of energy spent.
At the end of the day, my sister and I, feeling tired and filthy, were walking along the road toward home when we heard the sound of an automobile. So rare! It slowed and pulled up next to us. The car had a driver. In the backseat were two men. Sitting on the far side was Sang-mun, wearing a Western-style suit. My stomach practically swallowed my heart.
The man closest to me—he had to be Sang-mun’s father—was dressed similarly. He rolled down the window and leaned his elbow on it as he peered out at me. I bowed deeply and repeatedly. I prayed that through my humility and respect my future father-in-law would see that I was more than just a girl with a dirty face and hands. He would see a hard worker, who would care for his son, help with family finances, and make a good home. At least I hoped so. I peeked at my sister. Now that she’d finished bowing, she stared slack-jawed at the two men with their foreign clothes, their car, and their driver. She’d never been out of Hado, so she was just as unsophisticated as I once had been. Still, I felt a wave of shame. I noticed, though, that Sang-mun stared straight ahead and had not acknowledged me, as was proper for a young man on an engagement mission.
Feeling that no introductions were necessary, my future father-in-law addressed me. “Girl—”
Nervous and still embarrassed by my appearance, I blurted, “Let me take you to my grandmother and father.”
Sang-mun started, looking at me in curiosity. His father was more discreet, hiding his surprise. He didn’t laugh at me or sneer, but his expression left me deeply humiliated. “I have come to meet the family of Han Mi-ja,” he said smoothly. “Can you guide us to their home?”