Chapter Text
It was a typical morning in the Bae household. Wendy waking up next to Irene was, for her, the best thing in the world, right next to singing and baking but she doesn’t say that to her wife.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Wendy said, moving closer to her significant other, arms wrapped around the other’s small figure. Wendy waited for a reply when she realized the girl she was holding is shivering despite being wrapped in a blanket. She put a hand on Irene’s forehead, confirming the bubbling thought that her wife might be sick.
Irene slowly turned towards her, eyes barely open. Her wife always had pale white skin but it is a different matter when her lips are not their usual red. She looked at her with concern, feeling sorry for the overworked individual lying on their bed. They are a hard-working couple but, unlike Wendy, Irene does not know how to listen to her body. She would work countless hours without resting because she wants to finish her work as soon as possible.
Just as Irene started coughing, an excited teenager came barging into their room.
“Mommy! Mama!” the teen shouted. “What are you guys waiting for? We’re going to be late. Let’s go!”
Wendy looked at the clock. 7:29 am. Then it hit her. They were supposed to wake up early to go to her parents’ rest house.
Wendy looked at her daughter then back to her wife, wondering how to break the news. She was about to open her mouth when she felt a shuffling beside her. Irene slowly leaned on their bed while she massages her temples.
“Good morning, baby, honey,” Irene said while looking at the concerned Wendy and their ticked-off daughter. “Yeri, honey, as you can see mommy’s a little sick.”
But before Irene could finish her sentence, Yeri started her rant.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Yeri retorted, her arms folded as she annoyingly dropped her luggage. “Mom, we planned this for weeks. I asked you, no, begged you to get at least a day’s worth of rest because we all know how much of a workaholic you are.”
Irene looked away, the loud voice of Yeri causing her head to throb.
“I’m sorry, honey. I took a rest but I guess that wasn’t enough. The company has been busy lately and I need to be there if I want to keep things afloat,” she said.
Yeri scoffed, waiting for another response from her mom. She then looked at Wendy who was looking for a way to defuse the situation.
“How about this. Yeri and I will go to the resthouse first and then I’ll pick you up after you’re done with some more stuff. Sounds good?” Wendy said, hoping for Yeri to agree with her proposal. Unfortunately, she made it worse by mentioning that Irene had more stuff to do. This prompted Yeri to pick her things up and leave their room.
All Wendy could do was stare at the door, mouth agape, wondering how she could fix things.
Wendy felt Irene slowly succumbing to her sickness as she went deeper under their blanket. She pulled up the blanket to cover her wife.
“I’ll get you some medicines and some food,” said Wendy.
She stood up and fixed her side of the bed then proceeded to their closet to get changed. While inside, all she could think of was how to make Yeri less upset about the situation. It was expected that she would react like how she did earlier. No one can blame the teen. She misses her mother.
Yeri loves them both but spending time with Irene was a different matter. She would drag Irene anywhere; from shopping to arcades, whatever Yeri wants, Yeri gets when she’s with her. They were the perfect mother-daughter tandem. People often mistake them as sisters with the way they interact with each other. Aside from her mother being baby-faced, they bicker like they’re siblings.
But nothing compares to the times Yeri breaks down. Since Irene is busy with work, Wendy would be the witness of most of it, during which she would give Yeri back rubs and tissues. That’s all she could do. With Irene, Yeri could talk for hours. It was easier for her to dump all her emotions in front of Irene and its those moments that Wendy thanks the man above that she married the right person.
Wendy was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her wife from their bedroom.
“Baby, you should go on with the trip,” Irene said, her sickness evident through her hoarse voice. “I’ll update you about how I’m feeling and just follow after.”
Wendy comes out of the closet and looks at her wife. She thought of more solutions but could not think of anything so instead, she sighed in defeat.
“I guess that’s the new plan. I’ll pack my things and tell Yeri. I know she’ll understand once I talk to her. Or so I hope.”
Wendy is a good mother. She might not be good with consoling their daughter but she’s good at making her understand things. Like that time Yeri wanted new gaming headphones and Irene said no because her current ones were still in good shape. They did not spoil Yeri but they know how important gaming is to Yeri. It is to her what singing is to Wendy. Just like any teenager, their daughter is still figuring out how to control her emotions. So, Wendy talked to her and explained why her mother refused. It wasn’t because her current ones were still usable. It was because Irene wanted to teach Yeri how to be responsible with her money. It took Wendy hours to explain to her but eventually, Yeri understood and apologized to her mother. The next thing they knew, Yeri has a job at a music store and was saving up for a trip for the three of them. Unfortunately, it was this trip she was saving up for.
As soon as Wendy was done packing, she kissed Irene and went down to the kitchen where she saw Yeri sulking with her headphones on, munching on leftover pasta.
Still thinking of ways to get her daughter’s attention, Wendy proceeded to make doenjang jjigae for Irene. While preparing the ingredients, she takes a few glances over at Yeri to check whether the teenager notices her presence. A few moments has passed when Yeri decided to make eye contact with her. In that brief moment, Wendy knew what she needs to do.
After she delivered the stew she made for Irene, she took out her baking utensils and made a lot of noise while doing so.
“Mom, I can hear you through my headphones,” Yeri retorted while looking at her phone. “And these have a noise-canceling feature.”
Wendy could not help but laugh at the remark of her daughter as she made her way towards her.
“Here,” Wendy said. “I need help.”
Yeri looked over to what was being handed to her. Yeri smiled. And Wendy smiled, too. Because she now has her daughter’s undivided attention
“Making up for that broken promise of yours?” said Yeri.
Wendy scratched the back of her head and pouted. She is a good mother but not a perfect one, and sometimes when life hands you an opportunity to produce a song for an upcoming star, you just have to grab it and wish that your daughter would not hate you for it.
“I just miss baking with my favorite person,” said Wendy. “While wearing her favorite apron”
And with that, Yeri took off her headphones and stood up, letting her mother put the apron over her.
“If mom hears you say that, she’s going to kick your ass.”
The harmless remark of the young lady earned laughter from the both of them.
It was true. If Irene heard Wendy say that, she’d come running down, sick or not, and prove to her wife and her daughter that she is Wendy’s favorite. A childish act but Irene is willing to fight anyone for that spot.
“So, what are we baking today?” asked Yeri.
“Your favorite,” said Wendy, to which her daughter responded with a gleeful shriek.
“Can it be cupcakes, please?” Yeri grabbed her mother’s apron, tugging on it to get her attention. “So that we can bring it with us.”
Wendy’s ears perked up with the comment she heard. She smiled and gave her daughter a pat on the head.
“So, does that mean we’re going to proceed with your planned trip?” Wendy teasingly said.
Yeri could only roll her eyes and smile when her mother pulled out the cupcake trays.
They were having a lot of fun baking. It was like when Yeri was a kid; the times Wendy would bake her cookies to snack on. There was a point where she needed to hide the cookie jar on the top shelf because all Yeri ate were the cookies she made.
She also baked all of Yeri’s cakes. From the gender reveal to Yeri’s sweet 16, Wendy made sure she was the one to make her cake, and Yeri would not want it any other way.
“Do you remember the first cake I baked for you?” asked Wendy, mixing bowl in hand as she stirs the batter together.
Yeri thought for a second, her eyes surveying the kitchen for clues that could help her. Then she found a peeled, orange carrot lying on top of a cutting board. She pointed at it to which Wendy responded with a confused face.
“Look over there, mama,” said Yeri.
Wendy looked to where Yeri was pointing. She giggled then looked at her daughter, reciprocating the same smile she is giving her.
“You’re right,” said Wendy. “You were 4 at that time and, believe it or not, that was the first time you ate cake.”
“You didn’t feed me cake when I was a baby?” said Yeri, to which Wendy replied with a hearty laugh.
“Your mom would have killed me if I fed you cake at an early age.”
“Right.” Yeri slowly put down the cupcake holders and sat on the chair behind the kitchen island. The sullen expression painted across Yeri’s face prompted Wendy to put down the mixing bowl.
“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Wendy.
“Nothing,” Yeri said while resting her head on her hands. “Was mom always like that?”
Wendy wondered what she has missed while talking with her daughter. “Like what?”
She sat beside Yeri and put a hand on her shoulder. She was growing nervous. Aside from thinking of ways to explain things to her, she needs to handle what Yeri’s about to throw at her.
Yeri lets out a sigh, a heavy one it could blow down the house.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Uptight? Paranoid? Like she wants everyone to see everything around her as perfect to the point that she forgets to take care of herself.”
Wendy was taken aback. With mouth agape, she looked at Yeri, wondering how she should address her questions that she did not notice how foggy Yeri’s eyes were.
Irene loves her wife. Irene loves her daughter. And Irene loves her job. She is not a bad wife or mother. She just loves her job too much that she forgets.
Wendy moved her chair closer to Yeri, pulling her head so that she can rest it on Wendy’s shoulder. Silence filled the air as a cloud of somber sheltered what once was a joy-filled atmosphere. Wendy had all the answers inside her head. She can understand the situation better because she’s been through it before.
But for a teenager like Yeri? That’s a different question. It’s not like it’s the first time this has happened. Broken promises sprinkled with disappointment. Yeri has experienced it as well. Despite living a luxurious life, she wasn’t sheltered from the harsh reality around her. And her first experience of disappointment and heartbreak was from her mother, Irene.
Wendy thought for a second, playing with the ring that wrapped around her finger beautifully.
“Mama, what’s that song you’re humming?”
Wendy snapped out of her reverie. She looked at Yeri who was still lying her head on her shoulder.
“What?” she asked.
“This.” Yeri hummed a part of the melody she could remember. “It’s beautiful. I haven’t heard it before.”
Wendy blushed, smiling like a fool she forgot about the elephant in the room.
“When did I-,” but before she could finish what she was going to say, Yeri cut her off.
“Just now,” said Yeri, now sitting upright and facing Wendy. “While you were playing with your ring, you were humming that melody.”
“Oh,” was all Wendy could say, nodding her head as her cheeks continued to remain red.
“Was that a song you made for mom?”
Wendy lets out a shy giggle that could compete with a schoolgirl’s. She couldn’t help it. She’s still as madly in love with her wife as the day she first saw her.
“Mama,” Yeri said as she wiped the lone tear that fell from her eyes. “How did you guys meet?”
Wendy looked at the mixing bowl in front of her and smiled. Like an old film projector, her memories of Irene came flashing before her eyes. She then pointed at the carrot that started this conversation; the reason Wendy and Yeri was sitting instead of baking.
“Because of that.”
Yeri looked in the direction of where Wendy was pointing.
“A carrot? What were you guys doing? Farming?” Yeri and Wendy laughed at the remark.
“No,” Wendy said, slowly making her way towards the carrot. “This was the first insult I gave to your mother.”