At almost the exact same moment, Jiyeon’s mother piped up with, “No, no. Australia!” Confused looks all around. Then, in the spirit of clarification, Lizzie added, “But right now, in Seoul. Just for a short time. Coming back soon!”
“San Bernardino,” Jiyeon said again, cutting a meaningful glance to her left. Lizzie sat under the dryer with a novel she absolutely wasn’t reading, ankles crossed, not noticing that she'd said a tad too much.
“Well, that means I don’t know him,” Gloria exclaimed from the chair on Jiyeon’s right. “And you didn’t even bring him to meet me!”
“Don’t mind her, sweet girl. She only retired from cutting hair. Still meddling full time, as you can see.” This came from Gloria’s daughter, Angie, who had returned from booking an appointment over the phone. She smiled at Jiyeon in the mirror, switching out a comb for the scissors in her apron pocket. “You met this guy at the restaurant?”
“Yeah. He was in town for his sister’s wedding.”
“Lucky, then.” Angie trimmed another layer, judging the length with a practiced eye. “Sounds like he came in for waffles and won the lottery instead.”
“Oh, very lucky. And so lost! The amnesia—”
“The amnesia,” Jiyeon hastened to say, “is something Mom saw in a drama. Have you seen that one? It’s calledI Loved You.”
Angie nodded, recognizing the title instantly. What followed was a merciful reprieve from the topic of Jiyeon’s love life. She enjoyed ten whole minutes to regroup while the other three discussed amnesiac corporate heirs, tragic deaths, and carouselson the beach. It was a much-needed break. Answering questions about Eunjae was stressful, and since the salon was empty, its proprietors had plenty of time to wring all the gossip out of her.
She’d never meant to fall out of touch with Gloria and Angie. When Jiyeon did have a day off, like today, she’d find herself too exhausted to get through more than a few chores or errands, whatever needed to get done. The social call and inquisition were long overdue. And she’d missed this place, too. It remained one of her favorite places in the world.
Gloria’s salon was in a strip mall a few blocks from Ivy Lane. For as long as Jiyeon could remember, it stood sandwiched between a bakery on the left and a rotating selection of retail ventures on the right. When she was a child, that side sold electronics, a sign for TV repairs permanently mounted in the window. Now it was a boutique selling novelty soap. But G & A Salon was still the same, down to the potted palm out front. Four-year-old Denny had named it Polly for reasons he refused to divulge. Although it wasn’t the same plant from back then, the name hadn’t changed. Everyone just kept calling it Polly.
She loved being here. If Eunjae planned to keep the same haircut until he turned eighty, then Jiyeon planned to get her hair cut at the same salon until she turned eighty.
On the topic of Eunjae, she hadn’t heard from him since very late last night. He wasn’t usually so quiet. But she did know that they’d had a surprise visit from Jaehwan, plus the flurry of preparations before they left for Bangkok. She’d wait to ask how things were going. In the meantime, her break was over. “Tell me his name again,” prompted Gloria. “Your dad told me, but you know my brain these days.”
“Ryan,” Jiyeon replied, having rehearsed for that one. She frowned a little at her reflection, swathed in a black nylon cape from the neck down, most of her wet hair twisted up in alligator clips. That Joey Han. She’d need to have another talk with him atdinner later, and then again at every dinner, forever. What else had her father been telling people? Confirmed: neither of her parents could keep a secret to save their lives.
As if on cue, Lizzie chimed in. “Ryan Kim! That’s his name.” At least she hadn’t blurted out the actual name. Jiyeon made up her mind to just take what she could get.
“There it is! Ryan! That’s it. I knew it started with an R.” Gloria relaxed into her own chair, sun-browned face sporting more freckles than ever. She seemed smaller, too. More than a decade had passed since Jiyeon outpaced her in height, but this was different. It was a reminder that time and its relentless current slowed for no one. Not even Gloria, larger than life for as long as Jiyeon could remember.
Angie’s scissors made a satisfyingsnick, cutting another overgrown layer. “And he’s been away for a while? This Ryan of yours.”
“Uh-huh. For work.”
“For work? What kind of work?”
She’d settled on a stock reply for that one as well. “Customer service.”
“And he sings!”
“For fun,” Jiyeon said, fighting the urge to fidget in her chair. But she couldn’t help adding, “He’s really good at it.”
“Well, that’s wonderful.” Angie gave Jiyeon’s cheek a gentle pinch. “Hey, you know what else Joey said? He told us you’ll be opening your own place soon. I was so excited! You were just a tiny thing, the first time you asked how much it costs to buy a salon. You sat right here and told me it was your dream. ‘It’s the big dream of my life, Auntie Angie.’ Gosh, you were the cutest.”
They traded smiles in the mirror, and it was so easy to see all her past selves reflected there. Jiyeon was eight, nine, ten, listening to all the aunties chattering while Gloria or Angie cut the split ends out of her hair. She was sixteen, and this washer part-time job: sweeping up after the stylists, running towels through the wash, unboxing product shipments. She was in that first year of cosmetology school, working here whenever she wasn't in class.
She closed her eyes, soothed by the brush gliding through her hair. For the longest time, she'd wanted a place just like this. For the longest time, she'd toiled toward the opposite.
“I thought I found a good spot,” she said, “but I missed my chance. I’ll look again when life settles down a bit.”
“You’ll make it happen. No doubt in my mind.” Angie unclipped another section. “Ryan’s back on Sunday, isn’t he? You must be so happy.”
“Did my dad tell you that?”
“How’d you guess?”
Jiyeon needed to have such a long chat with that man. “Yeah, Sunday. Denny, too.”
