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Ji-yeong wakes up to silence, the sun pouring in from the open blinds on their window. Which is annoying for about two seconds as they flash her in the face, until she rolls over to see the door to the bedroom is wide open. She takes a few seconds to stretch out all her limbs like a starfish, grabbing her phone from the bedside table to check the time and, inadvertently, what today is.
Father’s Day, she thinks. Didn’t see it coming this year.
Usually, she does. Usually, she buys a good amount of alcohol in advance and builds up her Netflix queue to her tastes. Usually, Sae-byeok isn’t here on this day.
But this year—this year is different.
She washes her face in the little bathroom they had, trying to make herself seem more lively because the date had sucker-punched her in the gut. An entire day filled with social media and the public raving on and on about fathers and uncles and grandpas and people she would never have the luxury of understanding.
Not even a brother, she thinks bitterly, brushing out the knots in her hair.
(But she kind of gets that in the shape of the ten year old who, without fail, eats all their snacks whenever he visits.)
Walking into the kitchen, she’s greeted with the sight of Sae-byeok’s back as she works over the stove, flipping something in a pan. Slowly, Ji-yeong hugs her from behind, burying her face in the crook of her neck and squeezing her a little because she needs the reminder that this wasn’t all about to slip through her fingers.
“I’m making you breakfast,” Sae-byeok says in lieu of a greeting.
Ji-yeong laughs, kissing her on the cheek. “What’s the occasion?”
But she knows. Or—she thinks she knows.
Lowering the heat on whatever’s cooking, Sae-byeok turns around to give Ji-yeong her full attention. “Nothing.”
“Terrible,” Ji-yeong tilts her head, grinning. “Terrible lying all around. Are you sure you used to con people out of their money?”
Sae-byeok frowns, further proving her point that there’s no way . No way at all that anyone saw this kitten personified and felt an ounce of fear. But…maybe that’s just for Ji-yeong.
Just for her. Hm. It’s a nice thought. A very nice one.
“I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to lie.”
“Oh, but you were,” Ji-yeong argues lightly, taking her face in her hands to show she’s not actually mad. “You are.”
Sighing, Sae-byeok does the same, calloused thumbs rubbing her cheeks. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Ji-yeong says, “And you don’t need to overcompensate today.”
“I’m not overcompensating. I’m…compensating the normal amount.”
Ji-yeong laughs for the second time and that’s already enough from Sae-byeok. This never happened any other year. Today wasn’t a day meant for laughter. “Okay, sure. I will accept a hug, though.”
Sae-byeok scoffs, scooping her into her arms. As if thinking she’s insane for asking for one when she knows damn well Sae-byeok doesn’t care.
Ji-yeong thinks this must be the equivalent to getting spoiled on your birthday. They haven’t celebrated one together yet. She hopes they do, she wants to buy Sae-byeok everything she ever wanted. And all she would want in return is another hug.
“You’re saying that like it’s something crazy to ask. Which in and of itself is crazy,” Sae-byeok says, “I was going to hug you anyway. It’s a rule. A new morning rule I’ve made.”
“That you made up just now,” Ji-yeong corrects her. “That has never existed until now. Until father’s day.”
“Father’s day,” Sae-byeok mutters, somewhat angrily. Ji-yeong has a theory that her dad would have been put in a hospital ten times over if he were still alive and Sae-byeok had anything to say (or rather, do) about it. “Why does that even exist?”
“Because some people do have okay father figures, babe. And good for them, honestly.”
“But then what about—”
“People like me?”
Sae-byeok pulls back a little, meeting her gaze. “That’s not what I meant.”
Ji-yeong smiles, “I know. The last thing you ever want is to offend me. Which is still weird to me even after, what, like eight months of dating?”
“Almost nine.”
Nodding, Ji-yeong’s smile hasn’t left her face for a single second, “Almost nine.”
“And it shouldn’t be weird,” Sae-byeok says, finally seeming to remember she was cooking as she turns off the stove with the flick of her wrist and grabs a plate from their cabinets. “It’s not weird. You’re my girlfriend. Isn’t that sort of implied when you date someone? Not wanting to upset them?”
Shrugging, Ji-yeong looks over the food she was making, various smells and spices wafting over her. “I wouldn’t know. Never really— gone steady with anyone.”
Sae-byeok snorts, scooping spoonfuls onto two plates before walking to their shitty little table they bought from a thrift store for 75% off since it was filing for bankruptcy. It still hadn’t collapsed under their weight yet, so she saw it as a steal. “Gone steady? Did you dream about living in the 50s or something?”
Ji-yeong follows her. “I was watching a lot of The Twilight Zone episodes last night when you went to bed. Kind of hard to hear with your snoring, but I managed.”
“Without me?” Sae-byeok asks, actually a little offended. Of course, only caring about watching the show together instead of the insult. She sets the plates down next to each other. “That’s so fucked up.”
“I’m sorry,” Ji-yeong says through giggles that mean she’s really not, kissing her on the lips this time. “I was sort of—dreading today. I guess.” She finishes quietly, reality crashing down once again.
Sae-byeok’s expression sobers, pulling out their two chairs. Their only chairs that their friends complained about whenever they came over for a game night or to use up their surprisingly fast internet. “We should eat. Big day ahead.”
Raising her eyebrows, Ji-yeong sits down anyway. “Are you going to elaborate or…?”
“Nope,” She says, popping the ‘p’. “Just trust me. Big day.”
“Repeating it makes it more ominous.”
_____
It turns out that their ‘big day’ would consist of going to the park to take a walk and have a picnic. Followed by going mini-golfing in the afternoon and then catching a set to one of Ji-yeong’s favorite local bands at a bar nearby (Sae-byeok liked them too—just not on her level.)
It ended with them buying some popsicles from a grocery store and deciding to walk home, surrounded by the chirps of crickets and cicadas of the night.
“I can’t believe you’ve had this planned for so long,”
Sae-byeok smiles at her, swinging their interlaced hands a little. Her lips are tinted red from finishing her cherry popsicle. “Just a week.”
“Still,” Ji-yeong says, biting off the last chunk of her lime popsicle. “You didn’t— have to.”
“I love you,” Sae-byeok simply says, like she needed any reminder. Like this entire day has not been enough of a reminder. “And we’re still going to grill this,” She holds up a bag of various cuts of meat they had also bought at the store, “Even though we don’t own a grill. It’ll be better than anything a dad has ever grilled before.”
Ji-yeong laughs, “Dad didn’t even like grilling, said it was a waste of time. But I knew the truth—he fucking sucked at it.”
“Perfect,” Sae-byeok says, eyes lively as she runs through all the possibilities. “Then we’re definitely going to be better than he was.”
They keep walking, hand in hand, to their apartment. Going back and forth on what to make with their purchase and also avoiding puddles littered all over the street from the downpour of rain that occurred the other day.
“Oh, shit,” Sae-byeok mumbles, eyes locked on something on the ground. An abandoned beer bottle. Completely empty. “Somebody littered,” She looks around, probably to throw it away, but then something flashes on her face. Something Ji-yeong can’t discern and it reminds her of their early days of friendship—not even dating yet and doing mental gymnastics to understand just what the hell the taller girl was thinking.
She holds it out to Ji-yeong, “Throw it.”
Ji-yeong thinks her eyes might pop right out of her face. “Excuse me?”
“It’ll make you feel better. You know, get your anger out.”
“You think I’m angry?”
Sae-byeok stares at her, swinging the grocery bag at her side a little. She says nothing back, already knowing the answer.
Ji-yeong breathes in, taking it. “Fine,” She looks around, spotting a big trash can pushed up against the brick wall of a barber shop closed for the night. “Have you done this before? Is this why you want me to try it?”
“Nope. But it should work.”
She thinks if she throws it straight against the wall, all the shards of glass will crumble into the trash can, leaving little work for any street cleaner. “Okay,” She swings her arm back and chucks it forward, very satisfied with the shattering sound it makes. “There,” Ji-yeong breathes in, “Okay, yeah. That felt pretty good,” She pivots to look at Sae-byeok, “I imagined it was his face.”
“See?” Sae-byeok grins, wrapping her free arm around her shoulder, “I’m the smartest girlfriend in the world. I should get a plaque.”
Ji-yeong snorts, leaning into her side some more. Sae-byeok was never like this. Sure, she liked to joke—be a little silly if only to indulge Ji-yeong most days. But she hardly tried to on her own accord. This meant, of course, that she was overcompensating for her girlfriend. Her very sad girlfriend who hated Father’s day with a passion.
“I’ll make one. Out of paper, just for you.”
Sae-byeok actually looks excited at the idea, so Ji-yeong has to kiss her again before she responds. “Seriously? Because I’m going to keep it in my wallet all the time if you do. No take-backs.”
“You’re actually five, aren’t you?” Ji-yeong teases, starting to recognize the neighborhood they were entering as their own.
When they arrive home, Sae-byeok puts on the stupid apron that Ji-yeong had bought her. It stated ‘kiss the cook’ (which Ji-yeong happily did many times throughout the night). While she worked on the food, Ji-yeong tried her hand at making homemade mojitos for probably the tenth time since they started dating. They turned out pretty terrible every single time, but she was determined to make the perfect one at some point in her life.
And Sae-byeok tried them every single time, even though it was almost guaranteed to be shit every single time.
She kind of wishes her mom was still here, if nothing else, she would wish her a happy Father’s Day. Because she had done the most work of filling in the role of both parents for as long as she could. As long as her dad had allowed her to be here. She also wishes, sometimes—just sometimes, that things had turned out differently from the beginning. Maybe if he hadn’t been a pastor. Maybe if he hadn’t been so angry at the world for having her as a child. Maybe if he had just tried a little more. That’s all. That’s all Ji-yeong could ask for—trying.
And now it’s all she’s left with—trying (and most times failing) to pick up the pieces.
With a sigh, Ji-yeong closes her eyes for a brief second, focusing on the sounds of sizzling and clanging of utensils that can only mean she wasn’t dreaming. They were here.
“Hey,” Sae-byeok nudges her, face still a little soured from trying to drink the mojito. It makes her look like some mixture of disturbed and concerned and it’s cute enough for Ji-yeong to forget why she was even upset in the first place. “You okay?” There’s a beat then, “That’s…kind of a stupid question, huh?”
She shakes her head, “You care. That’s not stupid.”
“I’m not trying to distract you either,” Sae-byeok says, “You can still—I don’t know— be upset. About today. I just don’t want you to do it alone.”
Ji-yeong’s lips twitch, “I’m not alone. I know that.”
Sae-byeok smiles. “Good.”
They hug again, and Ji-yeong takes a little longer to let go this time, but she doesn’t think Sae-byeok minds.
By the time they have eaten all that they grilled on their tiny stove and drank terrible mojitos, they make it to bed together. It’s Ji-yeong’s favorite part of the day, being close to her, knowing she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Thanks for today.” She whispers in the darkness of their bedroom, the only light coming from the black and white images of The Twilight Zone dancing across their small flat screen that had taken them both ages to save up for. Sometimes she thinks Cheol only comes over to hog it with all his Mario Kart games.
Sae-byeok kisses the side of her head and holds her hand beneath the covers.
Father’s day, Ji-yeong thinks, I guess it doesn’t always have to be so bad.