“Ajumoni,” Isak whispered, “do you think she would have me as a husband? If I asked her?”
Yangjin’s crinkled eyes widened, and she dropped the poker, making a clanging sound. She picked up the metal stick quickly and laid it down with care as if to correct her earlier movement. She slumped beside him, closer than she’d ever sat next to another man except for her husband and father.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Why? Why would you do this?”
“If I had a wife, my life would be better in Osaka, I think. I’ve written my brother already. I know he and his wife would welcome her.”
“And your parents?”
“They’ve wanted me to marry for years. I’ve always said no.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve always been ill. I feel well now, but it’s not possible to know how and when I might die. Sunja knows this already. None of this would be a surprise.”
“But, you know that she is—”
“Yes. And it is also likely that I’ll make her a young widow. And you know that’s not easy, but I would be the father. Until I die.”
Yangjin said nothing; she was a young widow herself. Her husband was an honest man who had made the best of a difficult birth. When he died, she knew that he had been a very special man. She wished he were here to tell her what to do.
“I didn’t mean to trouble you,” Isak said, seeing the shock in her face. “I thought it might be something she could want. For the child’s future. Do you think she’d agree? Perhaps she intends to stay here with you. Would that be better for her and the child?”
“No, no. Of course it would be far better for them if she went away,” Yangjin replied, knowing the hard truth. “The child would have a terrible life here. You’d be saving my daughter’s life as well. If you would take care of my daughter, I’d gladly pay you with my life, sir. I’d pay twice if I could.” She bowed low, her head almost touching the yellow floor, and wiped her eyes.
“No, you mustn’t say that. You and your daughter have been angels.”
“I’ll speak to her right away, sir. She’ll be grateful.”
Isak got quiet. He wanted to know how to say this next thing properly.
“I don’t want that,” he said, feeling embarrassed. “I’d like to ask her, to ask her about her heart. I’d like to know if she could love me one day.” Isak felt embarrassed, because it had occurred to him that, like an ordinary man, he wanted a wife who’d love him, not just feel indebted to him.
“What do you think?”
“You should speak to her.” How could Sunja not care for a man like this?
Isak whispered, “She’s not getting a good bargain. I may fall ill again soon. But I’d try to be a decent husband. And I would love the child. He would be mine, too.” Isak felt happy thinking of living long enough to raise a child.
“Please walk with her tomorrow. You can speak to her about all these things.”
Her mother told her Baek Isak’s intentions, and Sunja prepared herself to be his wife. If Baek Isak married her, a painful sentence would be lifted from her mother, the boardinghouse, herself, and the child. An honorable man from a good family would give the child his name. Sunja couldn’t comprehend his reasons. Her mother had tried to explain, but neither thought what they’d done for him was so unusual. They would have done it for any lodger, and he had even paid his fees on time. “No normal man would want to raise another man’s child unless he was an angel or a fool,” her mother said.
He didn’t seem like a fool. Perhaps he needed a housekeeper, yet that didn’t seem like him. As soon as the pastor had been feeling better, and even when he wasn’t entirely well, he’d carried his finished meal trays to the threshold of the kitchen. In the mornings, he shook out his own bedding and put away the pallet. He did more to care for himself than any of the lodgers. She’d never imagined an educated man from an upper-class family who’d grown up in a household with servants would ever do these things.
Sunja put on her thick coat. She wore straw sandals over two pairs of white cotton socks and waited by the door outside. The air was frigid and misty. In a month or so, it would be spring, but it felt like deep winter still. Her mother had asked the pastor to meet her outside, not wanting the servants to see the two together.
Isak came out momentarily, holding his felt hat.
“Are you well?” Isak stood parallel to her, not knowing where they should go. He’d never been out with a young woman before—not in this way, and never with the intention of asking her to marry him. He tried to pretend that he was counseling a female parishioner—something he had done many times back home.
“Would you like to go into town? We could take the ferry.” The suggestion came to him spontaneously.
Sunja nodded and draped her head with a thick muslin scarf to cover her exposed ears. She resembled the women selling fish in the market.