7. 일곱 ‘ilgob’
The bakery is calm when the little bell on top of the door rings. My eyesight moves to the entrance where Jeremiah is passing by, and my body tenses.
‘Hi Jer. Hmm…take a seat and I’ll be right there,’ I say, receiving the payment from the only clients in the shop.
When they leave, I walk to the door and hang a sign saying, I’ll be back in a bit , so we don’t get interrupted.
I don’t know if I can do this. The urge to run out the door is overwhelming.
‘So…’ I turn around to sit in front of him, exhaling the breath I hadn’t noticed I’ve been holding.
I straighten my back and wobble a little in the chair, trying to find the position to make me look as natural as possible in this unnatural situation. I’ve never even had a serious conversation with Jeremiah before, other than when we talk about business.
Suck it up, Delilah.
‘You remember what you told me the other night, don’t you?’ I ask, ripping the band-aid off.
He nods. ‘Yeah…I didn’t at first, but throughout the day my memory came back.’
‘Oh, I see.’ My gaze moves down at the table between us, and I fiddle with my fingers. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea you felt that way about me.’
‘I thought I was being blatant, but you still never saw it. I’ve liked you since the day you entered our restaurant with a basket of cupcakes and cookies,’ he says, looking out the window.
‘The day I opened Sweet Delilah…’ I match his glance.
‘I have seen my fair share of beautiful women. I mean, they are all around us, but when I saw you—’ He rubs the nape of his neck. ‘When I saw you…I saw more than a beautiful woman. Your aura differed from anything I’d ever seen. You just lit up the whole place and your smile honed my day instantly. That’s why I keep trying to make you smile, even if you don’t do it often.’
‘I-I’m really sorry. I just…I never saw you like that.’ I search my mind for a better answer, but it never comes.
‘I know, and I was okay, but then I got drunk and had to do something stupid and tell you.’ He sighs. ‘I wish I never told you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that way I could keep making you smile, even if it was as a friend,’ the man in front of me says. This mature side of Jeremiah is one that has always gone unnoticed by me, but I’m glad I’m finally seeing it.
The rays of sun make his red hair glow like copper and his freckles more visible.
‘I would like that. To keep being your friend.’ My eyes smile. In my mind, I’ve always seen him as an acquaintance, never a friend, but I might reconsider that now.
‘Really?’ There it is. The smile that was missing from his face in the last few days.
I stand up, and he follows, approaching me.
‘Can I…Can I hug you?’ Jer asks, and after looking at the hopeful sparkle in his green eyes, I nod.
After this brief moment, he goes back to work and I do the same.
I was so terrified of what our conversation would be like—solemnly the thought of it would make my hands tremble—but it went a lot better than I ever imagined. Maybe I should start being less scared of the unknown.
I’ll add that to the list of things to learn how to do. I laugh at the thought.
‘Why are you smiling so much?’ Elisa asks. I didn’t even notice her entering the shop.
‘Nothing special. I was just thinking,’ I say.
‘Are you going home now?’
‘Yes, I was about to close the bakery.’ I take off my apron and fold it, leaving it on the counter.
‘Great, let’s go together,’ she says.
‘Were you at the gym?’ I look at her clothes and she seems to have been working out, but I’m never sure since she wears sportswear ninety percent of the time.
‘Yeah, I was working on my rear end.’ She winks.
‘I think I need to work on my rear end as well.’ I laugh.
‘Really? You should definitely come with me!’ She beams. ‘You know, working out does wonders for your self-esteem.’
‘I’ve heard that. Maybe I should.’ I bite my lower lip. I do want to, but I’m not sure I have the courage to work out in front of strangers.
‘That would be so fun! I’ve always wanted a workout buddy. We could go after you close the shop. At this hour the gym is almost empty. I usually only see one or two people around,’ she says, as if hearing my thoughts.
‘Okay, I’ll buy some workout clothes, and then we can start.’
I’ll put my brave mode on and try to reach another goal; walk another step towards full recovery.
Fake it until you make it, right?
My body became an insecurity of mine as I grew up and developed all the normal shapes a woman is supposed to have, shapes my mum so frowned upon.
All those times she would give me an apple while my friends got ice cream or measure me to make sure I fit the standard for runway models even though I never became one, must have subconsciously tricked my mind to believe I’m never good enough.
I tried to quit her standards many times. In the last try I threw away the scale and ate the ice cream. When my loose pants became tighter, I cried the whole night because even though I broke the standard numbers, I no longer recognised myself.
I must be the most hypocritical baker there is: the one who doesn’t eat pastries, only samples them, until I’m sure the recipe is perfect.
Will I become a fitness guru like Elisa? Doubtfully, I’m too lazy for that. But working out a few times a week? I think I can. Maybe that way I’ll get to see my curves in the way they deserve.
When I get home, I take a long shower and order Korean food. I don’t have the strength to cook today. After I eat and watch an episode of The Bold Type with Elisa—a series we absolutely love for their women’s empowerment emphasis—I go straight to bed. Moonie’s drink worked wonders. Unfortunately, it doesn’t give you energy, and the lack of sleep drained mine.
** *
In the morning, I count to five backwards when my alarm goes off, a technique I learned to stop procrastinating and to not hit the snooze button. I slept a lot, but I was so comfortable under the sheets that it was still hard to get up.
I do my normal morning routine and when I come back to my room, I notice my phone’s screen light up, which can only mean I received a notification.
I check it and see a text message from my mum. They’re coming here tomorrow.
No…I don’t want to.
As I sit on my bed travelling through my childhood memories, a knock sounds on my door.
‘Lilah? You up?’ my flatmate asks.
‘Yeah,’ I say, and she opens the door.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asks as soon as her eyes find me. Do I look that bad?
I get up and walk in front of her, showing her my phone with the text my mum sent open.
‘Oh shit,’ Elisa says. She knows how my parents are. ‘Okay, so, I was going to ask if you wanna go shopping today, but we definitely need to go shopping today, for like, everything. Groceries, new outfits…Oh! We need a new hand wash. I remember your mum just going all out on how cheap soap was a big no for serving your guests.’
Despite my mind being hyperaware of my surroundings, trying to put on my mother’s lens to find every flaw, Elisa manages to get a chuckle out of me. ‘I’m sorry, my parents visiting makes you even more nervous than it makes me.’
‘Are you kidding? Veronica Scott is no joke. I’m the one who’s sorry for child you.’
The corners of my mouth lift slightly, in a way to not drag down the mood the way my honest thought would: It’s not like I spent much time with them growing up.
‘I’ll close the bakery earlier today so we can clean the house, go shopping, everything,’ I say.
She agrees, and I leave.
All the time at work, in between baking fresh goods, serving the clients, and a few chats here and there, my mind can only think of how this parent visit will affect my mental health. How it already is.
I stop by Greener’s at lunch hour to get distracted and speak about our collaboration.
‘Welcome.’ Jeremiah smiles as I walk in. Relief washes over me, knowing we are back to normal.
‘Hi Jer.’ I greet him in the same way. ‘I’ll have the special today. It looked really good on your social media stories.’
‘Coming right up,’ he says, leaving for the kitchen.
While I wait, I go to Rebecca.
‘Hello,’ I say.
‘Hi hi, how are you?’ she asks.
‘I’m good, thanks. I was wondering if we could speak about the collab at lunch hour, instead of after we close. Or another day, if that’s not possible. My parents are visiting tomorrow and I have so much to do after work.’
‘Oh, that’s okay. Right now I can’t, but we can talk about it after your parents leave. Let’s just come up with menu ideas by ourselves in the meantime, so we can advance quickly after that.’ Becca’s eyes stay glued to the notebook in front of her the whole time she speaks.
I agree and move back to my seat, where Jeremiah is already serving my dish.
I close the bakery at 5 p.m. instead of the usual seven—hopefully I did not lose many clients. None of my regulars go after five, so I think it’s okay.
When I get to our building’s entrance, Elisa is there with her car, ready for us to go shopping. I enter the car in a rush, and as I turn around to place my purse in the back seat, my eyes widen. We are not alone.
‘I brought extra hands,’ she says as I look at her, perplexed. ‘We’ll need it, trust me.’
‘So, we’re meeting your parents,’ Elijah says with a smirk.
‘Oh no, you are not. Thank you for the help, but this is just between me and Elisa.’ I do not want to bring more people into my parents’ mess.
‘Why? Parents love me,’ he asks. ‘Right, Moon Hee?’
‘That’s true; parents do love him,’ Moonie acknowledges in a low tone.
‘Well, my parents hate everybody, so, still a no.’
The car drive is short until the nearest supermarket, and inside it we decide to split into pairs so we can cover more ground.
‘I don’t know if joining Elisa and Elijah was the best idea. They both have their heads in the clouds,’ I tell my designated partner. ‘But Elisa knows what she needs to do, so hopefully it won’t take them too long.’
‘Don’t worry. Elijah can be mature when it’s needed,’ he says.
We walk around searching for the items on the list we made, barely exchanging any words throughout the aisles.
He’s not a man of many words; either that or he doesn’t open up easily, which I can relate to.
‘Why are you going to such lengths for your parents? You make them look like such monsters.’ Moon Hee chuckles, searching for cloth napkins in the shade of Bavarian cream.
‘They’re not monsters, but they are beasts, as in the London Elite beasts,’ I say as my eyes navigate the shelves for a matching tablecloth. Our last one got a wine stain we never removed, and it was the only one—in nine years of living in that house—my mum approved of.
‘Wait, they’re part of the London Elite?’
‘You know it?’ I’m surprised; nowadays people don’t talk about the Elites as much, since all their members are getting old, like my parents.
The London Elite used to rule London at one point. They were celebrities around here, their influence was almost as big as the royal family, but millennials—like me—thought that it was too much of a boomer thing, so none of their children wanted to follow their parents’ footsteps. Because of that, the London Elite is dying, and with them their influence.
Even though that hasn’t made my parents less of beasts when it comes to appearances and social status.
‘I used to know a few guys whose parents were in the Elite. My mum also works for one of the families.’
‘Oh…Maybe we crossed paths before and I don’t remember,’ I say. I don’t hang with those people anymore, but there was a time, before all hell broke loose in my life, that I did.
The Elite are bad, but their children are even worse. Elisa calls them entitled brats, because that’s how they act.
He grabs the last item on the list, ignoring my remark. ‘Let’s find the others now. We have everything.’
I call my flatmate and we meet them in the aisle they are in. To my surprise, they’re almost finished with their list as well, so we grab all that is needed and leave to checkout.
I can’t wait to get out of here. Crowds make my head spin.
‘Now you can go put the groceries in the car and I’m going to pick up some new outfits next door,’ Elisa says.
‘Sure, we’ll wait in the car,’ Elijah says.
The men walk away, and I take this chance to make sure Elisa is fine with our agreement.
‘Are you sure you don’t need help?’ I ask.
‘You sent me the pictures. I’m fine. I know how you feel about shopping centres.’
‘Thank you.’ I really mean it. She’s an amazing friend for doing this.
I haven’t stepped foot in a shopping centre in a few years. The crowds and fluorescent lights make up the perfect recipe to trigger my anxiety. I always shop online, but since we don’t have time for that, I chose out the outfits I wanted and asked Elisa to pick them up at the shop.
We leave the supermarket, and she enters the door on the right that leads straight to the maze of clothing shops. I walk towards the car thinking of how funny it is when the four of us are together. You can completely make out the extroverts and the introverts from our interactions.
‘I thought you were going with her,’ Elijah says as I enter the car.
‘She didn’t need my help.’
I turn on the radio to fill the air around us. My social battery is running out and even though I know one of them is okay with the silence, I’ve noticed the guy that wears rolled-up sleeves showing his tattoos is not.
I close my eyes for a little, enjoying the sound of Lauv’s song, Lonely Eyes. The chorus plays and my eyelids open, glancing at the rearview mirror, where I find the two black moons staring back at me.
Moon Hee’s lips lift slightly upwards as if saying, I’m lonely just like you .
The luggage door opens, jumping me back to reality, and when I look back at him, he’s no longer staring back. Instead, Elijah is showing him something on his phone.
Elisa enters the car, and we go home. The guys also help clean our flat a little. They’ve been very helpful today, and I’m not used to getting so much help around me.
I go to bed dreading tomorrow. My only safe haven will be the bakery, but even there I know my parents will comment on something. Hopefully they won’t be here for too long, since I have no idea when they’ll get here.
My eyes close, hoping to wake up once tomorrow is over, but they somehow travel back to the dark night sky. I can’t pinpoint the night, only a moon absolving my problems, giving me freedom, but somehow I know my heart was full in the moment, something that didn’t happen very often.