Blog

Chapter 13: The Crisp of Autumn’s Apple – September 3, 2024

She’d been fifteen the first time he saw her.  A tiny beauty.  Owner of a pert, little nose that seemed perpetually stuck up in the air.  Unless she was looking his way.  She had no time for any of the other guys.  But, for some reason, she looked Myeong’s way.  He had never understood why. 

Had he but known it, he had always been prepossessing.  But that wasn’t his most attractive quality.  There was something sympathetic in his nature that separated him from the other guys.  Many girls had been drawn towards the kindness that lingered under the surface of his personality.  It was hidden in his sweet countenance too.  It poured out through the rays of light streaming from his gaze.

Dahui had noticed it the first time she’d ever looked at him.  And she had been craving that kindness her whole life.  She had known from the time she was a little girl that her birth parents hadn’t wanted her.  Why else would they have given her away right after her birth?

She’d never told anyone, but it broke her heart afresh every morning as she gazed in the mirror.  Her eyes had spent years studying her face, looking for the scar that had made her so hideous to them.  What fatal flaw had she been born with that her mother had taken one look at her and handed her to someone else to raise?  Clearly, she was unlovable.  There was nothing adorable in her countenance. Or in her heart.

Dahui had been searching for love for years when she first met Myeong.  One glance into his sympathetic eyes, and she had been taken.  For the first time, she had believed that perhaps there was one person on the planet who might find something to love about her.  She had been completely ready to give him all of herself.  And she had.

Thankfully, she had given her heart to a good man.  Myeong cherished her from the very beginning of their relationship.  Before he even knew her story.  Something in her eyes had spoken to him the first time he’d glanced into them.  He had lost his tender heart in that moment.

Dahui had been a bookworm.  When her nose wasn’t stuck up in the air, it was buried in a book.  She was always reading.  Especially those first few months as they danced around each other.  Their eyes speaking while their lips remained shut.  She passed her sixteenth birthday before he ever spoke a single word to her.  It had taken him months to work up the courage to say anything to her.  Another two months had passed before he found himself brave enough to ask her on a date.

She was so beautiful.  He’d been intimidated by her.  She’d also been the most brilliant student in the school.  He had felt unworthy of her.  He wasn’t quite as quick with words as she was.  But he was a master at mathematics and economics.  A born business major.  Communication was not his forte, though.  Once they’d developed a close bond, she had coached him in this area and helped him prepare for all their exams.

She had set him several tasks to help him master English.  Especially once she’d discovered he wanted to major in business.  She had reminded him that success in the global market made the mastery of English a plus if not a requirement.  To help him in this endeavor, Dahui had encouraged him to write poems.  In the beginning, he had hated it.  But he’d been so taken with her that he had acquiesced, though grudgingly.

“Myeong, today I want you to write me a poem about autumn leaves.”

He’d laughed when she’d first suggested it.  But he had quickly realized that she was quite serious.

“Study the leaves falling from the trees and write a poem for me.”

They’d been sitting outside on a glorious autumn day as they leant up against the trunk of one of those trees.  He had decided to describe the experience.  He’d closed his eyes and drunk in the breeze.

“The air is crisp.

Does fall have a lisp

As its chill breeze

Rustles through the leaves

Of several golden trees?”

She had applauded his first stanza.  “I think, Myeong, that you’ve been holding out on me,” she’d asserted with a wide grin.

He had laughed.  “No, I just know how to use this rhyme search engine I found on Google.”

“Ah, so you’re cheating.”

“Cheating?!  No, I’m doing my homework.  Research.”

“Research, is it?”

“It is.  English is not my native tongue.  I need some help.  But look at all the words I learned today.  Crisp.  Lisp.  Breeze.  Trees.  Leaves.”

She laughed.  “You already knew those last three.”

“Fair enough.”

“But I love crisp.  I once had an American nanny, and she made something she called apple crisp.”  

As she reminisced, Dahui had closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the gentle sunlight streaming through the leaves of that crimson tree.  Myeong had watched that golden light bathe her face in a delicate glow.

“It was positively delicious.  Apples, cinnamon, a little sweetness, and this crumble topping made of oats and butter that was all baked in an oven.  Crisp also makes me think of the sound my teeth make as I bite into a fresh apple.”

“But baked apples aren’t crisp, so why was the dessert called a crisp?” he had asked, confused.

She had smiled and opened her eyes to glance at him. “Because the butter-oat combination becomes crispy like an oatmeal cookie.”

“You’re making me hungry,” he’d murmured.

“Write me another stanza, and maybe I’ll make you an apple crisp.”

What a tantalizing offer that had been!

“Deal!”  He had set to work on a second poem.  After a while, he had exclaimed, “Got it!”

Then he’d cleared his throat before reciting it.  His words had filled up the cool space around them as sunbeams continued to stream down on them.  And that autumn air sailed smoothly over their skin.  It had been a golden moment that Myeong had never forgotten.  He had discovered he had a flair for writing poems, easily finding rhymes and rhythms.  In English, at least.  With the help of Google and its rhyme machines, of course.

“Frail leaves crumpled,

Forgotten, rumpled,

Under a shoe

Rushing off to do

Someone’s peer review.”

Dahui had giggled.  “His shoe is doing a peer review?  Is the shoe writing up a criticism of another shoe?  Or a boot, perhaps?  Maybe a sandal.”

Myeong had laughed.  “Hey!  It’s not as easy to find a rhyme for do as you would think!”

“True,” she had murmured with a grin.

“Dahui!”

“New.”

He had groaned.

“Avenue.”

“Perhaps the problem was the do in the fourth line.”

“Perhaps.”  She had held his gaze.

“All right, smarty pants.  If it’s so easy, you rewrite it,” he had demanded.

“Frail leaves crumpled,

Forgotten, rumpled,

Under a shoe.

Don’t know what to do…

“Wasn’t the original last line seven beats though, not five?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.  At least six, depending on how you pronounce several.”

“Hmm…”

“Find something fun to do,” he finished.

“Ah, but you echoed to do.  Surely, we can be more original than that!”

He had frowned in irritability at her.

“Remember, your apple crisp is on the line,” she had threatened him.

“Frail leaves crumpled,

Forgotten, rumpled,

Under a shoe.

Do you rush off to

Find something new to pursue?”

“Bravo!  Much better!” she had congratulated him.

“Is it apple crisp worthy?” he had asked with a lazy smile lighting up his eyes.

She had deemed it so.  After school, they had headed to her house for a cooking lesson.  But he hadn’t learned much in the kitchen.  Thankfully, Dahui had been supervising, so the apple crisp hadn’t burnt to a crisp.

Myeong awoke to the memory of that wonderful autumn day.  And he felt a pang for his wife. 

Why had he dreamt in such Technicolor?  In his mind’s eye, her face was no longer that clear anymore.  But now, he could see her in all her glory sitting under that crimson tree and then laughing up at him in the kitchen as he accidentally knocked the container of oats onto the floor.  That day he’d discovered a vacuum cleaner could only hold so much.

It was a beautiful memory, so he was surprised to disturb tears sliding down his cheeks.  Would the loss of his only true love ever cease to hurt him? 

He wiped the tears off his face and walked out of his bedroom to wake up Dahui, but he discovered his daughter in the kitchen cooking him breakfast.

“Dahui, did I ever share your eomma’s recipe for apple crisp with you?” he queried by way of greeting.

She glanced up at him. “No, Appa.  What is apple crisp?”

“A delicious dessert they make in America.” 

He wandered over to the cabinet that contained his wife’s recipe box, but though he thumbed completely through it, he couldn’t find her recipe for apple crisp.  Its absence distressed him greatly.  His sensitive daughter noticed.

“Appa, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t find it.  I know it was in here.  She used to make it all the time.  In fact, she made it a couple days before you were born.  There was still some in the oven when she…”  His voice trailed off.

A spasm crossed Dahui’s face.  “I’m sure we’ll find it, Appa.  It’s okay.  I’ll look for it later.  Why don’t you shower while I finish breakfast?  You don’t want to be late for your meeting this morning.”

He glanced up at her in surprise.  “How did you know I have a meeting this morning?”

“Appa, you forget.  I’m your daughter.  I know everything.”

He chuckled at her and ruffled her hair before he left the kitchen.  “I think you stole my line.”

“I absolutely did not.  You can’t be the daughter.”

He guffawed.  “Not that line.  The other one.”  He was still laughing as he wandered out of the kitchen.

Dahui walked over to the recipe box and searched it thoroughly, but she too came up empty.

––

“Dahui?” Mrs. Wang asked a few hours later.  “Are you all right?”

The young girl shook her head.

“What’s wrong?”  Haewon squatted down next to her desk to look Dahui in the eye.

“I can’t find one of my eomma’s recipes.  It seems to be missing.  And, for some reason, it was upsetting Appa this morning.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Wang reached out to pat her hand.  “What was it for?”

Dahui furrowed her brow.  “Something called apple crisp.”

“Hmm.  Surely, I can find a recipe on the internet.”

“Of course, we can. But I don’t know if it will be the right one.”

“Well, we won’t know until we try.”  Mrs. Wang tipped her head to the side.  “Would you like to go grocery shopping with me after school?  Maybe we could go back to my apartment and experiment with several recipes and have your appa do a taste test.”

The girl’s eyes grew wide as a smile swept across her pretty face.  “Oh, Mrs. Wang!  Thank you!  That’s a brilliant idea!”

“I’ll research some recipes during my lunch break, okay?” Haewon smiled at the child.

Her head of midnight curls bounced up and down.

“That’s all taken care of.  Now, get back to your reading, please.”

Dahui’s eyes settled on one page of her book momentarily, but as soon as Haewon stood up and walked away from her, that gaze landed on her back.  Mrs. Wang missed the longing in the child’s eyes.

––

“Mr. Kang?  This is Mrs. Wang.  Dahui has a project she needs my help with.  I was wondering if you would mind if I take her shopping and then back to my apartment today after school.  You could come pick her up when we’re finished.”

“Mrs. Wang, can you read minds?”

“What?”

“You are a lifesaver!  I just had to reschedule a meeting for this afternoon, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to pick her up in time.  Your plan works perfectly for me!  I’ll call you when I get done with my meeting to see if she’s ready for me to come get her.  How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she grinned to herself, “just perfect.”

––

“I found three very promising recipes, Dahui,” Mrs. Wang informed her as they collected their belongings at the end of school. 

They walked to the bus and headed for her apartment, Dahui chattering the whole way.  Haewon was happy to be able to relax and let the child do most of the talking.  She was a delightful girl.  Full of beautiful dreams, as it turned out.  After they deposited their belongings in her apartment, they headed for the store where they stocked up on apples, oats, butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon.

“I found a recipe that also called for honey,” Haewon informed the girl.  “I already have some, and I definitely think we should try that recipe.  It sounded delicious.”  Then she admitted, “I’m excited that you asked for my help.  I’ve never had apple crisp either, but after perusing the recipes, I can’t wait to try it!”

Dahui giggled.  “Me neither!”  It sounded heavenly.  “If Eomma liked it, it must have been good!”

Haewon smiled at the girl as they began the task of peeling and chopping the apples.  Then Dahui made the crumble while Haewon sautéed the apples along with a little butter and cinnamon and some brown sugar and honey.  Once the apples were softened, Haewon dumped them into a pan.  Dahui sprinkled the topping over the apples.  Mrs. Wang set the pan in the preheated oven to bake.  Dahui began washing the dishes while Haewon dried them.

“Mrs. Wang?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you miss your husband?”

That question came out of left field. 

“Of course, I do.”

Dahui’s face grew sad.  “I think Appa still misses Eomma.  But…”

“What?” Haewon glanced down at that sweet face.

“I hope that someday Appa finds happiness with someone else.”

“You do?”  Surprise laced Haewon’s voice.

Dahui nodded.  “I think he must be terribly lonely.  And someday I’ll grow up and have a family of my own.  I don’t want Appa to be alone then.  I think he needs someone to love.  And he definitely needs someone to take care of him.”

Her tone colored by amusement, Haewon asked, “He does?”

“He is a disaster in the kitchen!” asserted Dahui.  “I mean, when I move out, who’s going to save him?  He’ll starve to death if all his meals are left up to him!”  She frowned.  “And I think it would be nice if he had a lady to iron his shirts for him.  And do his laundry.  And clean the apartment.”

“I think you’re describing a maid.  Not a wife.  Is your appa no good at any of those things either?” 

It had seemed to Haewon that their apartment was quite tidy.  Much tidier than her own.  She had stacks of paperwork and schoolbooks all over the place.  She’d probably drive the man nuts if they lived together.

“No.  He doesn’t really need help with those things.  I’ve just always imagined that those are jobs a wife would do.”

Haewon smiled.  “I see.  I never did any of those jobs when I was a wife.”

Surprised, Dahui glanced up at her. “You didn’t?

Haewon shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Two reasons.  My husband was rich, so he hired a maid to do all those things.  But also, I was very sick, so I didn’t have the energy to do them.”

Dahui frowed.  “Why were you sick?”

“I had a weak heart.”  As the girl gazed up at her with concern in her eyes, Haewon explained, “I was born with a heart defect.  I was quite frail as a child.  I nearly died shortly after my twenty-second birthday.”

Dahui’s eyes grew wide.  “You did?”  A spasm of fear passed over her face.

“Hey, it’s okay.  I’m all right now.  I have a strong heart now.”

Relief flooded the girl’s countenance.  “You do?”

Haewon nodded.  “Someone died, and I got his heart.  So I had surgery, and the doctors put a healthy heart in my chest.”

“Wow.  They did?  Do you have a scar?”

Haewon bobbed her head.  “An impressive one.”

Dahui furrowed her brow.  “Who died?  I mean, whose heart did you get?”

Haewon cleared her throat.  “My husband’s.”

The girl gasped.  “What?”

Haewon pressed her lips together.  “Someone hurt him.  He knew he was dying, so he told the paramedics to give me his heart if it was a match.  It was.”

“Wow.  That’s so sad.”  Dahui’s face fell.  “I mean, it’s happy for you.  But also sad.  You lost your husband.”  She met Haewon’s eyes.  “Was he wonderful?  Your husband?”

“To me, he was.”

“Yeah.  I think my eomma was pretty wonderful to my appa too.”

“I’m sure she was.”

Just then, her phone buzzed.  Haewon picked it up.  “It’s your appa.  His meeting must be finished.”

But he was actually calling to tell her that he’d been invited out to dinner with his business clients.  “Mrs. Wang, I hate to impose upon you.  But…is there any way that Dahui could stay with you for another hour?”

“That’s no problem.  Sure.  Just head this way when your dinner is over.”  She paused.  “Okay.  We’ll see you in a while.”

Dahui glanced up at her in disappointment.  “He’s not coming?”  She looked at the oven.  “We made him apple crisp.”  She sounded crushed.

“It’s okay.  It has to cool for at least half an hour, and it still has another half hour in the oven.  It’ll be just perfect when he gets here.”  Haewon’s eyebrows flew heavenward. “I am hungry.  Do you want to help me make dinner?”

Dahui had a mischievous smile on her face.  “You mean, we can’t just eat apple crisp for dinner?”

Haewon glanced at her conspiratorially.  “We could, but…”

“What?”

“I think we’d need some vanilla ice cream to make it a complete meal.”

Dahui laughed.  “Are you serious?”

“Hey, I never joke about dessert as a main course.”

The little girl brightened.  “Can we go get some?”

“Absolutely,” Haewon beamed down at her.

––

He had knocked several times, but no one had answered the door.  Where were they?

As Myeong pulled his phone from his pocket, he heard the comforting sound of two girls laughing behind him.  He turned around to see Mrs. Wang and his daughter walking towards him.  They hadn’t seen him yet.  They were looking at each other and chatting about something.

Dahui looks so happy.

The thought struck him like a lightning bolt.  That’s when he realized that he wasn’t enough for her.  She needed a woman.  An eomma’s touch. 

His heart sank.  He had done his best.  But it wasn’t good enough. 

Haewon glanced up just in time to see the crestfallen expression darkening his countenance.  She frowned.  What was wrong?

Then she realized she’d forgotten to tell him they were making a quick run back to the market.  She rushed forward.

“I am so sorry!  I forgot to text you that we had to go back to the store.”

“Oh.  That’s all right.  Dahui, are you ready to go home?”

“No!” she responded, alarmed.

Startled, he glanced sharply at her.  “What?”

Haewon intervened.  “We made you a surprise.  Will you come inside and check it out?”

He smiled. “Oh!  Sure.”  He grinned down at his daughter.  “Dahui, what did you make me?”

“Come on, Appa,” she grabbed his hand and tugged him through the open doorway as she followed Haewon into the apartment.  Dahui lead him to the kitchen table and encouraged him to take a seat.  “Close your eyes, Appa.”

He grinned and obeyed her whim.  She scooped a serving of apple crisp into a bowl and added a dollop of vanilla ice cream to it before setting it down in front of her father.

“Okay, Appa.  Open your eyes.”

He glanced down at the bowl, and his eyes grew wide.  He looked sharply up at his daughter.  “Did you find Eomma’s recipe?”

She hung her head.  “No.”  Then her eyes lit up.  “But Mrs. Wang found several on the internet. So we decided to make them for you.  And have you taste test them to see if one of them tastes like Eomma’s.”

His heart careened forward in his chest.  His eyes collided with Mrs. Wang’s.  “Thank you,” he whispered.  Then he glanced down at his bowl again.

“Try it!” his daughter encouraged him.

Myeong picked up his spoon and took the first bite.  And it hurt his heart.  Because it tasted better than he remembered his wife’s apple crisp tasting.  How could that be?  Dahui had been the very best of cooks.  Even as a teenager. 

“How is it, Appa?” his daughter asked nervously.

He could hear the anxiety in her voice.  He smiled up at her.  “It’s delicious.”

“Is it as good as Eomma’s?”

“No.”

Her countenance fell.

“It’s better.”

The sun suddenly rose in her face.  “It is?”  Shock laced her voice.

He nodded his head.  “There’s something different…I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“It’s the honey,” offered Haewon.

His eyes connected with hers again.  “Yes.  That is it.  It’s wonderful.”  He took another bite.  Mostly for his daughter’s benefit.

“Dahui, here’s your bowl,” Haewon handed one to the girl.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wang!”

Dahui was excited to try it.  She grabbed a spoon and shoveled a bite into her mouth.  Then her eyes flew wide before rolling around in her head.  “Oh!  It’s so good!  Try some!” she urged her teacher.

Haewon took a bite.  “Oh, wow.  That is good.  I think I might have finally found the secret to gaining a few pounds.”  Then she laughed breathlessly at her own joke.

“Why would you need to gain a few pounds?” Dahui asked as her eyes surveyed the woman’s slim form.

“I never could put weight on as a child.  After I got my new heart, I gained a little bit.  But I’m still so tiny.  Look, you’re almost taller than I am already, and you’re only ten!”

Dahui smiled. “That’s okay.  I think you’re just perfect.  Isn’t she, Appa?”

Myeong glanced up at Haewon after his eyes slid over her tiny frame.  “Yes, she is,” he murmured seriously.  “Just perfect.”

Haewon turned away abruptly as a blush stole over her cheeks.  She busied herself getting some more apple crisp before joining them at the table.  She quietly ate her food while Dahui and her father chatted.  When they had finished eating, Myeong collected his daughter and thanked Haewon prettily for dessert before heading out the door.  Haewon sighed as she closed it behind them.  Her apartment now seemed lonelier than it ever had before.  She felt like she was already growing attached to them both.