Til Death Do Us Part

51

“You were right about hiring the Emmerson twins; I feel like I have barely worked today even though we were swamped for lunch and dinner.” Greta is helping me stack up the chairs on the tables so we can mop the floors as the girls downstairs see off the last of our diners. Today has felt more normal after a rough few days, and I’m starting to unwind once more. My stress levels have been insane, and Greta has finally calmed down.

Jyeon and his friends left, finally. It’s the morning after the storm, without coming back. I heaved a sigh of relief but then had nightmares the last three days that made me feel like hell. I kept going back into the accident, the water, the night I crashed. Remembering his last words to me that he never wanted me in his life again, and the pain of seeing him with that girl. It’s all come back to wound me all over again now that I’m an emotionally susceptible mess who cries at the drop of a hat. I hate that my past is once again my present. I know he is the cause.

I wake up drenched in sweat and screaming until Greta calms me because I’m drowning. Reliving the horror and trauma of getting through it and walking until I thought I might die. Everything I felt. The hopelessness, the despair, and the sense of being alone. Over the past two years, I still have them regularly, but this was a vivid reliving of the experience, as though it was happening all over again. Transported in time to the very feelings and sensations of dying all over again.

I was so jumpy after they left. Flinching anytime the shack bell went with people coming in, and I couldn’t venture out of the kitchen at all until I knew he wasn’t coming back. I feel like my existence here is not as safe and happy as it was, and I’m hanging on by a thread that could snap at any minute. I know it could all unravel if he figures out I am who he thinks I am.

We hear the ring, ring, of the downstairs door go off a few times in a row and assume that’s the last of our customers being shown out. It’s quiet suddenly, and I stand up and stretch out my back. We work out butts off in here all season and in the winter our online store is doing so much better since we branched out to our store cupboard jars and recipes. Our ready to bake cookie kits are a best seller for the festive seasons. Finally, getting Greta to splurge on staff should make this season so much easier on us, and it’s not like we can’t afford part-timers.

“Send them home, and we’ll clean up the rest of the diner. The girls have been working hard all day.” Greta chin gestures towards the stairs to the ground floor, we’re upstairs, and I nod in agreement.

“I’ll tell them. I need to get the mop and bucket anyway. You can stack the highchairs for me.” I pat her on the head and waste no time in heading to our wide wooden staircase and move down, straining to look behind the counter for one of our twins as I get below the second-floor balcony.

“Girls? Where you at? You can both leave and head home. We got this. Good job today, you two rocked.” I call out, seeing Emily coming out of the kitchen and get a beaming smile in response. She’s a pretty red head with an abundance of freckles and a complete mirror image of her sister. I can only tell them apart because Emily always wears dresses, and Mary wears shorts. Adorable nineteen-year-old village girls.

“Okay, dokey, I’ll grab Mary.” She turns back and heads into the other room before both appear wearing lightweight raincoats because of tonight’s damp weather, and I walk with them to let them out the now locked front door. It’s somehow peaceful with the pitter-patter of light summer rain on our glass-fronted windows, but it’s unusually dark for the time, and I wonder if it’s another storm brewing.

I stop to pick up a stool in passing that’s lying on its side, so they get ahead of me and out first. Picking it up and distracted by straightening some more so they won’t fall when we start cleaning the floors. They leave with giggly goodbyes and are gone before I walk to lock it back up, but it opens again before I get there. Clanging merrily and swings to let some more wind and rain in while I’m still four feet away.

Two men duck in, shielding their heads from the weather with dark boating jackets hoods up, and I frown and check the clock on the wall. It’s eight pm exactly, and we’re closed.

“Sorry guys, we’re not serving anymore tonight. There’s a twenty-four-hour pop-up food stall down at the west harbour if you need food. They sell beer and seafood. And have a tent to keep you dry.” I point out and gesture for them to leave again, not about to make an exception when we still have so much cleaning to do. Neither respond but both straighten up and pull their black head covers down.

My heart stops in my chest, and I experience a second all over shocked pause on sight as I come face to face with Jyeon again and have to blink hard because I hope it’s a hallucination. He has this ability to taser me with an imaginary zap by just showing up.

“We came to talk to you and your …. Sister.” The second voice is Bryant, and I turn to him and frown as he sarcastically emphasizes the title. Making it clear their attitude is different from our last encounter, and I hesitate, eyes flicking from one face to the other. Instantly nervous.

“What do you want? I thought my sister told you that you weren’t welcome here. We have nothing here for you.” I back off to widen the gap between us and hope Greta hears the voices and comes down. My heart flip flops with an irregular beat, and my body runs completely cold as terror grips my soul.

“I think we should all sit down and talk. We’re not here to scare you or hurt you, Sohla. We have a lot to discuss.” Bryant is the one seemingly doing all the talking while Jyeon stares at me with an unreadable tension, watching me intensely. Observing me while I fumble with my fingers to hide how my hands are the first to shake.