The Island of Sea Women(112)

“We have not consulted a geomancer to determine if this is a good match,” I said, keeping my sentences and attitude as formal as possible. “We haven’t brought in an intermediary. No one has asked if our family gives permission—”

“Oh, Mother, no one does those things anymore—”

I spoke right over my daughter. “No one has set an engagement meeting or—”

“Let us consider this the engagement meeting,” Mi-ja said.

I addressed my daughter. “I did not know your thoughts had turned to marriage.”

“Yo-chan and I are in love.”

I barely knew where to start. “Four years ago, I asked you to promise you wouldn’t see him again. Then you kept this”—I searched for the right word and settled on—“affiliation a secret from me, your mother.”

“I knew how you’d react,” Joon-lee admitted. “But I also wanted to make sure in my own heart. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“This cannot happen.”

“We’re happy,” she said. “We love each other.”

She could be stubborn, but I would never back down. I could have dredged up the nasty gossip about Yo-chan and Wan-soon, but even I didn’t believe it, so I went straight to my deepest argument. “For you to show such disrespect to the memory of your father—”

“I’m sorry, but I have no memory of my father.”

This was too painful. I closed my eyes as the horrifying images came flooding back. No matter how much I fought against them, the details were as vivid and brutal as in the moments they’d happened: Mi-ja touching her husband’s arm . . . Yo-chan in his little uniform . . . My husband when the bullet hit his head . . . Yu-ri’s screams . . . My little boy being snatched away . . . I would never heal or forget.

Mi-ja quietly cleared her throat, and I opened my eyes. “There was a time when you and I wished for this day.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Although we thought it would be Min-lee and Yo-chan. Still, this day has come. A son-in-law is a guest for one hundred years, meaning forever. It is time for you to put aside your anger, so these two, who have no responsibility for the past, can be wed. May you accept my son as part of your family for one hundred years.”

“I—”

She held up a hand to keep me from speaking. “As your daughter said, they do not need our permission any longer. We can only give them what they want. I had no desire to return to Jeju, but I did because Joon-lee wants to be surrounded by her family on her wedding day. I’ve made arrangements for them to be married in the Catholic church in Jeju City.”

I gasped. Christianity had grown on the island, and those people were even more fanatical than our government when it came to Shamanism. Joon-lee lowered her head as her hand went to finger the small cross hanging from her neck, which I’d been too stunned by Yo-chan’s presence and Mi-ja’s arrival to notice until now. That she was not just hurting me but also abandoning the traditions of our haenyeo family was more than I could absorb.

Mi-ja went on, unfazed. “The ceremony will be followed by a banquet and party here in Hado.”

Resentment bubbled to the surface. “You’ve taken so much from me,” I said to her. “Why do you have to take Joon-lee too?”

“Mother!”

In response to my daughter’s outburst, Mi-ja said, “Perhaps it would be best if the two mothers speak alone.”

“We want to stay,” Yo-chan said. “I want to make her understand.”

“Believe me,” Mi-ja said mildly. “This will be best.”

Yo-chan and Joon-lee were barely out the door before Mi-ja said, “You’ve never understood a single thing. You’ve carried your blame and hatred without ever asking me what really happened.”

“I didn’t have to ask you. I saw with my own eyes. That soldier picked up my son—”

“Do you think I don’t see that in my mind every single day? That moment is burned in my memory.”

She looked tortured, but what did that mean? I waited to see what she would say next.

“After my cowardice, I needed to atone,” she said at last. “When my husband began to travel and I knew he wouldn’t miss me”—an emotion flitted across her face, but she buried it before I could read it—“I moved back to Hado. I wanted to see if I could help you.”

“I saw no help from you.”

“I had to wait a long time. I thought there was no hope for me. Then Wan-soon died.”

“You came to the ritual rite. No one wanted you there.”

“You may not have wanted me, but the spirits of those you lost did. They spoke to me—”

“They spoke to me,” I corrected her.

“You change what happened, because you only see evil when you look at me.” Her quiet calm was having the opposite effect on me. She must have sensed this, because she kept her voice low and steady, like she was trying to lull me into believing her. “Consider what actually happened: Shaman Kim went into her trance. Yu-ri spoke first—”

“Yes, she spoke to me. I’d been waiting so long to hear from her. From any of them.”

“But they only spoke when I was there.” Mi-ja, perhaps sensing my doubt, went on. “They never came to you again, did they?”