Chapter 5 - Jennie

Mino’s friends came over quite often after that. (Everyone only even came at night when Mino was sure to be home, but Jiwon always came in the afternoon when Mino wasn’t around). They all like you a lot, Mino told me. I liked them, too, so I was happy to hear that. Mino was still as kind to me as ever and half year into our engagement–and a year and a half since we moved in together–we still hadn’t had a single real fight. What’s the phrase they use, ‘smooth sailing?’ Well, that’s what it was. But even so, for some reason, I seemed to be in a really bad mood all the time. I couldn’t tell you why myself.

I was always being mean to Mino. Once a day at least I’d say something hurtful, something y, maybe a sarcastic joke. Winter gave way to spring, and as soon as it was May, but my mean moods just kept getting worse. It was almost as though nice weather fouled up my mood. I was at my worst on beautiful spring days, when a fresh breeze blew. May has always been a difficult month for me. Suddenly there’s brightness and color everywhere, and the whole world’s waking up and bursting back into life again. Inside the apartment too, Jiwon’s tree was getting bigger and stronger every day. 

“You busy with work or something these days?” Mino asked me one morning. I wasn’t. I asked him why he asked. He leaned his head slightly to one side. “You just seem a bit tired lately, that’s all,” he said.

He put on his shoes, dropped the key into his pocket, and opened the front door. “I will be staying late at the studio tonight, so don’t forget to lock up. And remember to turn off the gas. And try not to let work pile up, okay?”

“Good. I’m glad. It seems like forever since you were working late,” I said. Mino usually continues his work at home rather than staying at his studio. He gave me a confused-looking smile and shut the door firmly behind him.

It was true that I didn’t really mind when Mino had to work till late. I find it easier to relax when I’m on my own. I like Mino a lot, don’t get me wrong; that’s why I’m engaged to him. I just don’t believe the kind of love where you’ve got to be with the person twenty-four seven. But still, I didn’t really mean to say such a horrible thing to Mino. The second the words came out of my mouth, I felt so sad I wanted to cry. What was wrong with me?

Chaeyoung told me once that the one complaint she had about her husband was that he was always going away on business. Every time he left town, she used to call me on the phone.

“We’ve only just got married and he’s already going off leaving me behind,” she’d complain. “I don’t know why we got married at all if it was going to be like this.”

“Makes sense,” I said (not very helpfully). “Who needs bait once you’ve caught the fish, right?”

“It’s not like that at all,” she said, not missing a beat. “He really misses me too, I know he does.” Now she was contradicting herself. “You just don’t understand, Jen.” She sounded kind of pissed. I just didn’t understand. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I don’t get so many calls from her like that anymore. 

I snapped my laptop shut, turned off the lamp, and got up from the desk. I couldn’t concentrate on my work that night. I couldn’t relax, even though I was alone. I poured myself some whiskey and went into the bathroom. I put the plug in the tub and the tap. I watched the hot water gush into the tub and touched the tip of my tongue to my whiskey. Tiny waves rippled across the surface. I looked down at the ripples, keeping an ear out for the phone. I didn’t want to miss my call.

I put my glass on top of the washbasin and went to get a pair of pajamas and some fresh underwear from my bedroom. I put them into my little basket and went back to check on the bath. The tub was still only halfway full, so I went back into the living room and sang a few songs for the yellow man. By the time I’d finished singing (‘Stay,’ ‘As If It’s Your Last,’ and a song by Nicki Minaj) the tub was eight-tenths full. I climbed in with my glass of whiskey. I brought my phone into the bathroom with me and put it in the changing area on top of my pajamas. 

It felt like ages since the last time I’d been able to drink whiskey in the bath. Mino had forbidden it. Before I moved in with him I often used to soak in the tub with a glass of whiskey. It’s a great feeling. The alcohol goes straight into your head and you can feel it working its magic as it courses its way through your system. I used to love it. I could feel all the blood in my body fizzing like soda water, shooting through my veins like the jet-stream in a water slide. My head swimming, my senses strangely acute. 

Mino said it was really bad for your heart. He made me promise not to do it again. Ever. I nodded and told him I never would, but I didn’t really mean it. I slapped at the surface of the water now, making little splashing noises. I didn’t think anything of lying. In fact, I was surprised I’d managed to keep my promise for six long months. I slapped at the water some more with my hands. The water splashed and sloshed over the sides of the tub until my hands turned numb. 

I got out of the tub and drank a mini-sized can of beer. I could feel the whiskey mixing with the beer behind my eyes. Waves of drunkenness washed over me and I felt dizzy.

The phone never rang. 

When Mino came home, he had a whole bunch of donuts with him as usual. When he was on one of those overnight work he always took the whole of the next morning off. Since he would typically go back to the gallery in the afternoon, it would have made more sense to stay and rest at the studio, but Mino always came home. He would stop to buy some donuts on his way and we would have breakfast together, and then he would take a shower, change into a clean shirt, and head back to the gallery. A fresh start every day, that was Mino’s policy.

“It’s really nice out,” he said, brushing the lint off the stylish plaid suit he had just changed out of. 

“I know. We have windows, you know.”

Mino stopped and glanced over at me. And then, in a bright cheerful voice, he said, “they had a new kind of donut. Guess what it was.”

“Dunno…”

“Plain raisin,” he said. “Open it and see.” He gestured with his chin toward the box on the table. “Remember you said something once about raisin donuts always coming with that cinnamon flavor? Because you liked raisins but not cinnamon? Well, these ones are plain, so I thought you’d like them–“

“Mino,” I interrupted. I couldn’t take it anymore. Why did he have to be so nice all the time? In my heart, I was pleading with him to stop talking, but obviously he couldn’t hear me. 

“I asked the girl in the shop, you know, just to make sure. She was really nice. She even gave me a free sample–“

“Okay, that’s enough.” Talking about donuts the minute he gets home. It was giving me heartburn.

“Jennie, what are you so mad about?” He asked. Mino thought there had to be a reason for everything. 

“I’m not mad. I’m just not hungry. You didn’t have to get me anything. Don’t you get tired after working all night? You didn’t have to come home, you know,” I rattled on.

I said I was going to take a nap and went back to bed. I buried myself under the sheets and cried. I couldn’t control myself any longer. I tried to stifle my sobs, and my eyes and nose grew hot and started to sting. It hurt when I breathed and I was sopping wet with tears. After a while, the door opened a crack and I heard Mino’s voice. “I’m going,” he said.