The bus stops at the terminal. I make sure to pay attention to where I am going, and also I force myself to not look for a certain someone. Outside the air is colder than it was in Seoul. The rain is falling hard. I make a dash for it. Inside the terminal, it doesn’t look so different than it did when I was twenty. I feel the years peeling away from me. I don’t have any luggage to check so I make my way to the waiting area. I see Auntie Ji An and run to her. I drop my duffel bag and backpack. Her strong arms take me into a fierce hug. She pulls me away from her and looks me up and down. In Korean she says, “Too thin and too pale. That American food is all tasty junk. You need to put on some weight and get some color in your cheeks.”
The words are true, but they also sting. I haven’t been eating or sleeping well since Jason and I broke up. I wonder if he’s heard I’ve left the country. I wonder if he cares.
In Korean, Auntie Ji An calls out a greeting, “Well hello there stranger.”
I turn and look behind me. Oh my GOD! Its Ponytail Man. Auntie steps around me and takes Ponytail Man in her arms.
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Her voice breaks and she says, “Oh, nae namja* it is so good to see you.”
I don’t remember what nae namja means. Is it his name?
He releases Auntie Ji An and glances at me. His eyes look puzzled. Both of us wait a moment for her to introduce us, only she doesn’t. Instead she starts peppering him with questions about his family. He answers each question with six words or less. How do they know each other? Auntie says, “Just ride with us, no need to get a taxi. I know your granny is so excited you have come for a visit.”
He nods. The guy sure doesn’t talk much. Auntie Ji An slips her arm through his. She honestly seems happier to see him than me. I grab my duffle bag and backpack and tag along behind them. Outside of the terminal, Ponytail Man takes Auntie Ji An’s key fob and heads for her car. Does he know what kind of car she drives? I don’t even know what kind of car she drives. After he is out of ear shot I ask her, “Who is that guy?”
She giggles and asks, “You don’t remember him?”
“No.”
“He doesn’t look familiar at all.”
“No.”
“He is Kim Hae-in. Neighbor Song’s grandson.”
My mouth drops open.