Renewal
A friend came over to my neighborhood for lunch. We went to a Vietnamese restaurant and ordered spicy seafood noodle, egg rolls, and fried pineapple rice. For coffee and dessert, I suggested we go to my place. She agreed. This was not a spontaneous decision as I had already prepared a special cake for her — more exactly, for her upcoming wedding in fall. When I first heard the news, I was taken aback. The last time I saw her was a little more than a year ago and she wasn’t dating anyone then.
Earlier that day, I rode a subway to pick up a custom-designed carrot cake. It was from my favorite bakery in Mangwondong. The owner greeted me with a full smile and told me that she would close her store soon due to her pregnancy. Withholding sadness, I congratulated her on her baby and wished her well. As always, the cake was very pretty and delicious.
My friend ended up staying longer, so we went out again to grab dinner. The restaurant she chose was a Chinese restaurant that looked like it had popped out of Hong Kong in the 80s — a compact house built out of bricks, wooden backless chairs, red chopsticks, fresh beer, and young people laughing loudly in their ruddy drunk faces. It had been so long since I had hung out at a place like this in such late hour that I felt almost dreamy.
“I have a favor to ask,” she said in the middle of eating. I looked up. My friend was looking at me nervously. I asked her what it was, but she couldn’t say it. Upon many trials, she finally said, “I want you to be my maid of honor.” I looked at her with an equally puzzled face. “You don’t have to do anything, but I really wish you could give us a beautiful speech at the wedding.” Only after I said yes did I start to understand the heaviness of the duty. But once we reached home, I knew it was too late to take my words back.
As I walked her to the subway station, my friend counted the years of our friendship: twelve years. From South Carolina to Florida, Yeoido, Gangneung, Ansan and Mokdong, our meeting points constantly shifted until we finally settled back in Seoul. Before she disappeared into the subway gate, she thanked me for walking all the way here, and said the walk felt short compared to the actual distance. I smiled and said, “Everything feels better when you do it with a good partner.”
When I came home, it was nearly midnight. In my mind, I kept drafting the public speech I’d have to make in November. What would I say? All I could think of was how my friend’s eyes glistened when I asked about her future husband, and the words I left her with: Everything feels better when you do it with a good partner.
