“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. I am trying to keep my hands busy and not freak out like Greta. 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 fucking 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, unsure 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, he goes away, and that’s the end of it.” Greta stands behind me, 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 comfort me. 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 before.”
The counter bell for service starts ringing, and Greta leaves with a reluctant sigh and a pat on my back to see what the customer wants, and I’m glad for 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 burrowed right into my skull, and I can’t dislodge him. I must 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, we should carry on like usual, 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 see. Hard swallowing and chest grabbing as they both eye me up and down as slowly 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 by our father. She was born and raised right here with me; 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 the 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 shit 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 pay your bill and leave. I’m sorry to your friend who can’t 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 their 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 favor.
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 shell-shocked 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 behind my head, and I spin in alarm, gulp, yelp in fright, and stumble away from him when I realize 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 walking across while I focused on Bryant and Avery.
“I don’t know you. Please stop.” My voice breaks, and panic shows face even though I try not to let it. I am suddenly aware of how close he is and that my necklace is rubbing just below the very edge of my dress neckline. Mere millimeters from concealing the platinum and diamond band therein that would give this away completely. They were custom-made and a one-of-a-kind pair.
“I was too shocked upstairs to let it sink in. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll figure out why you’re acting like you don’t know us, why you never came home. I’m not about to lose you again. I know I did a lot of wrong…. Please give me a chance to fix that.” He steps toward me and lifts his hand as though he’s going to touch my face, and I scramble backward, turn, and shoot away from him at speed. Terror gripping my heart, and not about to let him touch me again.
I don’t stop until I slide through the hatch and close it behind me with a thump. Tugging Greta in front of me as the looming tall figure of Jyeon cuts between his two friends in pursuit, he ends up face-to-face with her. Separated only by the wooden surface between them. A few eyes stray this way, but no one knows what’s happening, and it looks friendly on the surface.
“Jyeon Park…. Her husband.” He nods at me over Greta’s shoulder and reaches inside his jacket to pull out his wallet. Seemingly way more composed than he was up in the lounge. He places a black credit card on the counter first, then a business card beside it. “I’ll pay our bill but keep this because we will talk again. This isn’t done.”
I recoil, losing all fight, inwardly seething that he even thinks he still has that title after everything, yet the Sohla of the past is nowhere to be seen. Afraid of being discovered and completely wilting in his presence. My thoughts are chaotic, and I’m jumping between mentally yelling at him that he’s a murderer and asking myself if he seems like a guy who wanted me gone. He’s confusing as hell.
“You guys need mental help. My sister is single and never married. You’re scaring her.” Greta is doing a much better job than me and holding her own against his intimidating force. Keeping the act up and sounding convincing.
Avery and Bryant are silently locked onto my face, staring openly, and I end up completely hiding behind her to shield myself from the intense scrutiny. I must look like a scared kitten. I don’t know how to navigate this. I’m so out of my depth. In Jyeon these two years, something that has gotten stronger is his commanding aura, and I’m folding like wet paper in the wind.
“Amnesia? Deliberately hiding? Whatever the reason, don’t tell me it’s not her. I know it is. I can tell. From the way she walks, moves, and carries herself and her mannerisms. Her voice, her scent. Do you think I wouldn’t know the girl I grew up with and married? I shared my life with her. And that…” He leans forward and points at my shoulder, and I’m confused for a second, unsure of what he’s getting at. I look down at my dress in case my necklace is on show and panic again, but it’s still concealed, and I curse myself for always wearing it.
“What?” Greta turns and looks me up and down, seeing nothing on me. “Because of a dress?”
“The birthmark on the back of her neck where her right shoulder meets. I’m sure I saw it upstairs when she was picking up breadsticks. Don’t tell me that’s not my Sohla when I know for a fact it is.” Jyeon’s tone is cold and stiff. His eyes flicker to me again, and he nods at his card as though telling her to hurry up and take it.
Greta lets out a breathy laugh, slides his credit card up, and moves to the till to ring up their bill without touching the other. She’s in full-on war mode and trying to keep her calm.
“Lots of people have birthmarks. Lots of people can look the same. I think I know my own blood. Don’t come back; your custom is not welcome here anymore.” She slaps his card back at him without swiping it. “What you ate so far is on the house. Call it a parting gift. Now leave and take your boys with you.”
“Not tiny red hearts, they don’t. I’m sure that’s not common at all.” Jyeon isn’t backing down. I guess the shock from seeing me has entirely worn off, and he’s in stealth fight mode, the guy who used to dominate board meetings. I hate that he still remembers my tiniest strawberry birthmark, given I always kept my hair down, and it was never on view to anyone.
“Is there a problem here?” A masculine voice behind the group of men cuts into the tense atmosphere, and Tom appears at their side as he walks around. Eyeing them up, seeming bulked up and angry, I guess he heard her, seeing me standing further back and trying to look invisible. He reads the situation and seems to decide he’s not leaving.
“Anna, are you okay?” His tone softens to an undeniable affection, and he lifts the hatch to come in around to join us, even though he usually never would. He is acting like he belongs here.
“None of your concern. We’re talking about personal issues that don’t involve you. Butt out. Whoever you are, you’re irrelevant.” Jyeon’s tone turns deathly, his eyes following how Tom slides Greta aside lightly and comes to shield me from whatever he considers a threat. Making it clear I’m someone he cares about.
On the one hand, I appreciate it. Even though the old me would have been able to handle all of this on her own, I’m also annoyed that he thinks I need him to sweep in. That we can’t do this without a man helping us. Greta is a fierce psycho on any day of the week, and I’m usually more assertive and more capable than this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe the fact that there’s this suspicion that this man tried to kill me deep down.
Jyeon turns icy and seems to bristle with the addition of my hero standing between us. His usual calm and capable demeanor that he’s famous for missing altogether, and he narrows his brows, not concealing his anger at all, and my heart almost stops.
“I’m not leaving this village without my wife. I’m her legal guardian and have every right to take her from here. She has a home and a family who miss her. She has a life to come back to. If she’s suffering from memory loss, I’ll take her for treatment, and you have no right to stop me. Keeping her here, using it to hold her, makes me not trust you one bit.” Jyeon and Tom stand face to face, the air static with the electrical current, and I’m so close to passing out with the sheer stress of this entire thing. I catch Avery and Bryant moving forward to coax Jyeon away gently, sensing this is getting tense. Bryant slides his arm around the front of Jyeon’s chest and pushes him back with a flat palm. Tom seems completely silenced with shock at Jyeon’s words and glances at Greta by his side, looking for answers.
“We’ll be back once everyone has time to let emotions settle. We’re sorry it turned sour like this. We’re happy to see you again, Sohla. Like you have no idea.” Bryant is Mr calm and in control and seems to have undergone a personality transplant in two years. He was never Jyeon’s dependable friend who swooped in to soothe things. He was usually the instigator of all chaos. Jyeon was the mediator back then.
“Stay well. We’ll see you soon.” Avery smiles warmly at me, and it’s like a knife in my heart. It takes everything in me to stay blank and not react, even if it feels like a ward drum playing in my chest. These men were my childhood and lifelong friends through Jyeon, who always treated me like a younger sibling.
“Just get out, all of you.” Greta pushes Tom aside and throws both cards across the surface at Jyeon, so he swipes at least one of them back into his hand.
The two men signal for others nearby, and it’s the first time I notice they are lingering across the room, waiting to leave. I’m thankful I don’t recognize any of their other three companions. They escort Jyeon away, keeping a hold of him as all he seems to do is keep glancing over his shoulder at me with the most unreadable expression. I can’t tell if it's anger, sadness, shock, or what.
My face is numb with keeping it steady and showing nothing emotionally. That whole encounter has made my mind explode, though, and I’m on the verge of breaking.
I don’t wait for them to leave. I spin on my heel and hightail it into the kitchen, picking up the nearest sandwich bag and shoving it over my mouth in desperation. I crumble to my ass and take gulping, raspy breaths to curb the significant panic attack starting, and tears finally break loose and start trickling down my face as everything I held in erupts.