Til Death Do Us Part

49

“Unfucking believable. Of all the places for him to show up….. this is insane. Do you think he bought it? That you’re my sister? When you left, he was weird, but he didn’t ask anything else. I managed to usher him to his seat, but he was zoned out the entire time.” Greta is pacing back and forth in the kitchen, like an erratic wound up chicken in a coop while I’m trying to cook the dishes in our order queue and not have an almighty mental breakdown. Tasks keep me sane, focusing on doing something, and yet not. Trying to keep my hands busy and not freak out the way Greta is. I go over and over it in my head and keep shaking myself mentally. After all this time, I honestly cannot believe this isn’t a dream that he’s here. In our village, in the Tarry Shack.

 “I don’t know; I honestly do not know.” I think I’m in shock and knowing he’s up there, right now, has me shaking all over and my pulse at three thousand beats a minute. My mind’s going a hundred miles an hour, and I don’t know how to feel.

“Asshole. Complete jerk. How dare he swan over and say, ‘Oh, she resembles someone I lost’.” Who does he think he is? Does he have no conscience about the fact he didn’t lose you; he drove you off a f*****g cliff?” Greta is in the first stages of an epic rant and temper explosion, and I drop the spoon into the pot I was trying to stir. I cannot continue when I’m struggling to breathe and my fingers can’t grip.

“What do I do? Stay in here? Go upstairs? Face him again and act like I don’t know him? What’ll be less suspicious? Should we ask them to leave?” I’m overthinking, not sure if I want to see him again or not and cursing myself out for this confusion and inability to function.

“Serve down here; we’re almost at closing time. Avoid him but don’t hide, or he’ll think you have reason to. We just have to stick it out for another hour, and then we close up and wait for them to leave the harbor in the morning. The storm is only meant to last a few hours. Act like he’s nothing, and hopefully, truly, he just goes away, and that’s the end of it.” Greta stands behind me and puts one hand on each of my shoulders, and squeezes me. She’s vibrating with adrenaline and in overprotective momma bear mode, but it doesn’t give me comfort. I can feel her hostility radiating like waves from her petite body.

“Stay strong. If we convince him you’re nothing more than a doppelganger, he’ll leave, and we can act like it never happened. We’re in shock…… it’ll pass and be like it was before.”

The counter bell for service starts ringing, and Greta leaves with a reluctant sigh, a pat on my back, to see what the customer wants, and I’m glad of the moment of headspace. I can’t stop seeing him inside my head and dissecting every detail about his face as I turn off the heat, pull a few notes down for table orders, and try to prepare the plates. Not able to concentrate and fumble with everything I touch.

A part of me wants to creep out and take another look at him from a safe hiding spot to see that he’s real, and yet my inner fear is telling me to go upstairs and not come down all night. It's like he’s a brain worm and burrowed right into my skull, and I can’t dislodge him. I need to keep reminding myself that my ‘death’ wasn’t as innocent as it seemed, and I should never let any of the Park family know this is me. My life here could be upturned and ruined.

I move through the motions on autopilot and plate up the three servings of one dish and the fourth variation. Putting them on my arms to take out and brace myself to paste on my indifferent expression and inner calm. Suck it up and get through one more hour of service, and then we can lock the doors. Knowing that Greta is right, and we should carry on like normal or he might suspect.

It takes all my courage and three deep breaths before I butt out the swing door and lift my chin to head to the table, waiting for this. I get as far as the open hatch on the counter to slide through when I’m hit with another almighty blast to the emotional shield.

“Woah!” Avery exclaims upon seeing me, standing at the other side of the counter, blinking my way, with Bryant right behind him as though waiting for a sighting of me. Both are still, poised, and standing with open mouths and wide eyes like they can’t believe what they’re seeing. There’s hard swallowing, some chest grabbing, as they both eye me up and down as slow as hell. I’m glued to my spot, staring back.

“I already told you…. she’s my sister. This is our family restaurant, handed down from our father. She was born and raised right here with me, and this is her home. She is Anna, Anna Tarry as in the Tarry shack, and she doesn’t know you people.” Greta grits her teeth while talking to these two men whose full attention is on me. Clear they have been interrogating her on Jyeon’s behalf.

“She really looks exactly the same, though, insanely the same. He wasn’t wrong at all.” Bryant murmurs loud enough that I hear him. Furrowing my brow, I dip my head and push on by with my plates. Ignoring them best I can, but I feel their eyes follow me, and I’m sure they turn to watch me as I leave them at the counter. My steps are heavy, and I have to concentrate fully on taking each one so I don’t trip over my sudden clumsiness and s**t coordination. I feel like the sky is coming down on top of me, and my happy little bubble of fantasy I created here has just popped.

“Look, you guys are all weirding my sister out. Maybe just pay your bill and leave. I’m sorry to your friend who can’t seem to understand that he doesn’t know her, but it’s making us uncomfortable. We have no reason to lie.” Greta has her mean tone on, fighting my corner for me, and it’s raised enough to carry my way as I deliver the food and start heading back. Customers lift heads to nosy in but respect not to make it obvious and keep to their lanes.

“Look, if you’re trying to cover ….. that there’s a reason she doesn’t want to be known, we have to work it out. This isn’t just about her husband, but about what’s hers and what happened two years ago. I’m the family lawyer, and she has shares, assets, money, and property that rightfully belong to her. We have so much we want to talk to her about. Not to mention …. we are her friends, and we are all concerned for her welfare given we thought she was dead.” Bryant leans forward and places his card on the surface in front of Greta, and I stop and hold back, watching from behind as my face turns cold.

Not strong enough in my acting ability to brush this off, so I’m better at keeping my distance. The Sohla they knew would march right in and face them down, so being this way works in my favour.

I can’t believe Bryant is now the legal consultant for the Parks, though? Since when. Of course, I knew he was a lawyer, but he never represented anyone he was friends with. It was his rule in life. So why now is he suddenly Jyeon’s family representative?

“I guess you’re deaf…. she’s my sister! Please, just leave.”

I’m rooted on the spot, holding on in the hope they give up. I’m too shellshocked and faced with too many of them all at once. All I can do is stand there like a silent useless statue and concentrate on not suffocating to death with my body’s pathetic reaction.

“I know it’s you. I would know you anywhere, Sohla.” Jyeon’s voice startles me from right behind my head, and I spin in alarm, gulp yelping in fright, and stumble away from him when I realise he’s so close. Standing over me so he was practically spooning me, his muscular, intimidating posture makes me appear tiny. He must have been by the door or maybe even walking across while I was so focused on Bryant and Avery.