Breeze sat across from Namjoon’s mother in her kitchen. She’d steeped Breeze a cup of tea and welcomed her with a smile. She was a very sweet woman, but Breeze was still uneasy. She had never really dreamed she’d meet Joonie’s family. This was all just an air castle after all, wasn’t it? Despite the cinnamon roll incident. She must be dreaming. Namjoon had met her for the first time a short two hours ago. He’d never actually invite her to stay with him at his parents’ house, right?
But just in case she was actually experiencing a true reality, she determined to be sweet and polite to his mother. Breeze had answered all her questions promptly, not wishing to hide anything from the older woman. Except perhaps, the contents of a certain book.
Speaking of that book, where was it and the man holding it? Namjoon had disappeared a half hour ago, excusing himself momentarily. He had yet to reappear. If he’d headed to the bathroom, surely, he’d fallen in by now. Perhaps they should send a rescue crew after him.
Breeze turned her attention back to his mother.
“So, you…in Korea…whole year…to study?”
Ah, this was the other thing. Namjoon’s mom spoke less than perfect English, and at best, Breeze spoke rudimentary Korean. The two of them had been stumbling around trying to communicate with each other. Breeze desperately hoped she wouldn’t accidentally say anything that would offend Namjoon’s mother.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Namjoon, where are you?
As though he heard her beckoning him, Namjoon suddenly materialized, walking through the doorway.
Thank God. Breeze sighed in relief.
She and his mother both looked like they were drowning, and he’d just thrown them a lifesaver. Namjoon felt bad. He shouldn’t have left them alone for so long. He hadn’t considered the language barrier.
He was trying to hide the book behind his back, but his mother noticed it. She gestured to it and asked him about it. His eyes flew to Breeze, and she saw the look of panic on his face. Correctly interpreting that look, Breeze came to his rescue.
“It’s a book I wrote for him.”
Namjoon clarified, repeating her words in Korean. His mother lifted her eyebrows and held her hands out towards him. He set the book in her palms. She leafed through it, her eyebrows rising even higher until they nearly kissed her hairline. She looked at Breeze in surprise, then she turned towards Namjoon and questioned him about the book in her hands. They carried on an extensive discussion in Korean.
“You’re saying that she wrote this entire book to you over the last four years? That these are all letters addressed to you?”
He nodded.
“But you just met her in the cafe two hours ago?”
He nodded again.
She turned to look at Breeze in awe. What kind of girl wrote an entire book of letters to a boy she didn’t even know? Over the space of four long years? And then had the courage to give the book to him when opportunity presented itself?
She could tell that Namjoon was already smitten with the girl. She’d long suspected he might end up marrying an American. He had such a driving curiosity about the English language and all things stateside. She wasn’t surprised he was attracted to this girl. She had fascinating, cerulean eyes and golden hair. Mrs. Kim knew well how her son loved blond hair. So much so that he had bleached his own. As though it was a token of the golden touch he had in reaching others.
It had been clear to her for years that Namjoon was special. He was called to great things beyond the scope of South Korea. He was a born leader. He’d revealed that side of his personality at a very young age. His friends had naturally gravitated towards him and often followed his direction, looking up to him from an early age. He was highly respected by all who truly knew him. Namjoon fed everyone around him a degree of esteem.
But there was something unusual in his eyes as he gazed at Breeze. His glances caressed her face lovingly. As though he had known her for a long time. Mrs. Kim peered down at the book she still held in her hands. What had he read in these letters that had already lit that fire in his gaze? She wished she understood English and could find out for herself. She had never before seen her son in love.
—
Breeze was feeling uncomfortable. She knew that Namjoon rarely got to come home. She felt like an interloper stealing this precious time from his family. She smiled at Namjoon and his eomma.
“Excuse me. Would you mind if I leave for several hours? I know you both have been looking forward to your time together, and I want to do some sightseeing while I’m here in Ilsan.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was just that having found Namjoon, she’d rather spend the weekend with him.
Namjoon’s mother caught his eye. She nodded at her son, reading his mind. Their time was precious, but so was this girl. And she’d come a long way, across an ocean and through four years, to place the door to her heart in his hands.
“Actually,” Namjoon informed Breeze, “Eomma has some things to do to prepare for dinner tonight. May I accompany you on your walk?”
He was so polite. Such a gentleman. A polished diplomat skilled in the art of setting others at ease. Breeze smiled at him. Of course, there was nothing she’d rather have in the whole world today than an afternoon spent with Namjoon!
