“Appa issobusy with work as usual, and I have the house to take care of.” Her mom sighed with the weight of her responsibilities. She had a live-in housekeeper, but she always managed to sound beleaguered.
“Is now an okay time to talk?” Lizzy asked, hearing the sound of cars and voices in the background.
“It’s fine. I just had lunch with Mrs. Paek. You remember Mrs. Paek.”Nope. No idea.“She got you that lovely Fendi briefcase when you graduated from law school.”
Oh,thatMrs. Paek. Her parents had made sure she called and thanked her profusely at her graduation while her friends waited to take pictures with her. The sleek briefcase was much too slim for any practical use. She probably still had it somewhere in her closet.
“Of course I remember her. How is she doing?”
“She’s doing great. Her daughter is a plastic surgeon, you know. She makesverygood money.” The slightest sharpening of her mom’s voice told her this was a rebuke. Lizzy’s annual income wasn’t shabby, but it wasn’t anywhere near what a successful plastic surgeon would earn in Korea. Her mother had comparing Lizzy to her friends’ children down to an art.
“Mrs. Paek must be so proud.” Long-honed self-control prevented sarcasm from bleeding into her words.
“Yes, very proud.” Another forlorn sigh escaped her mom. Yes, her disappointment was vast. With her obligatory guilt-tripping out of the way, silence stretched on between them.
Lizzy was just prolonging the torture. She needed to spit it out. “I’m taking time off from work.”
There was a surprised pause. “That must be… nice. Are you traveling?”
“Not exactly. I’m staying in Weldon… for three weeks.” She held her breath.
“Three weeks? What are you thinking?” Her mom’s voice dipped into a furious whisper. She never raised her voice. “Aren’t the next two years crucial for you if you want to make partner?”
“I’m so tired, Umma.” Her stomach clenched with nausea as her anxiety settled in for an extended stay. “I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want you to worry, but I fainted during the trial.”
“So you’re just giving up? Do younotwant to make partner?”
“No. Of course not. I just needed a break.” Not even a cursoryAre you okay?How could her mom care so little about her well-being? Lizzy bit her trembling lips. Why was she letting this hurt her when it was exactly what she’d expected? She was so tired of scrambling to meet her mom’s expectations and failing. Always failing. “When I go back, I’ll work harder than ever before. I promise you.”
“What am I going to tell Appa?” Her mom’s disappointment glinted like a sharp dagger poised to strike. Truth be told, if her dad had time to spare, he would understand better than her mom.
Even so, Lizzy shrank to the size of a thimble. “I’m sorry.”
“I only want what’s best for you,” her mom said in a low, tired voice—let down once more by her ungrateful daughter.
“I know.” And she shrank smaller yet. Would she ever be good enough for her mom?
Lizzy ended the call with a mumbled goodbye, and the tears she’d held at bay slid down her cheeks and fell onto her hands. She absently glanced down at them and discovered a full glass of wine in front of her, waiting to be imbibed.Oh, joy.After lifting the wine in a mocking toast, she chugged it all down in one breath. Alas, the last drop went down the wrong pipe and she coughed up her lungs. Almost.
She wiped her wet face with both hands and dried them on her jean-clad thighs. The tears of self-pity had receded—this type of conversation with her mom was much too routine for it to keep her down for long—to be replaced by tears from her coughing fit. At least her anxiety had backed off. There was that.
She cleared her throat raucously enough to make a crotchety old man slow clap.Respect.But it still felt scratchy from choking on the wine, so she poured herself another glass and took a careful, soothing sip. Whatever ill the wine had caused, the wine shall fix.
Evil,evilwine.
Lizzy gave the empty bottle of Shiraz a one-eyed glare, then promptly closed her eye. The big, east-facing window had been one of her favorite things about the apartment. But even with the curtains drawn, a small gap at the side let one piercing ray of sunlight shine directly onto her poor, hungover face.
“Curse you, wretched window,” she mumbled, her dry lips stuck together on one side.
With her face squished to the pillow, she scooted her hips to the edge of the bed and dropped one leg on the floor. Then she tugged her other leg to join it, so her body was bent into an inverted L shape—half on, half off the bed. She was prepared to stay in the rather perilous position indefinitely to avoid lifting her head, but her lower back and thighs soon burned in protest. A cowardly whimper escaped her lips as she gingerly slid her butt to the floor, letting gravity pull her head upright against the side of the bed.
“Ow.” She sat very still, hardly breathing, while the room stopped spinning.
Bits and pieces of her conversation with her mom floated into her mind, but she shoved them aside. There was no use ruminating on it. It happened. It was over. Moping about it wouldn’t do her any good. Besides, she already did that last night, and look where it had gotten her.
With fluid grace and utmost dignity, she crawled on all fours to the kitchenette. She grabbed a pitcher of water from the fridge, popped the lid off, and chugged the water straight from the pitcher. Some dribbled down her chin and onto her wrinkled T-shirt, but she was too invested in hydrating to care.
Feeling somewhat human, Lizzy struggled to her feet and refilled the top of the pitcher to make more filtered water. Next order of business: food. She opened one of the cupboards and rummaged around its contents. Cereal, Oreos, potato chips, and…cup ramen.She beamed at the instant noodles as she cradled it adoringly between her hands. Past Lizzy was a smart and wise woman.
