Parenting First, Love Later

Na-Eun reached work and bit her lip, replaying last night in her mind.

“I’ve lost it. I’m crazy. Why of all times did I have to do such a thing?”

Today was a special day at the kindergarten. To welcome the winter, the children were participating in a Kimjang experience, followed by a lunch of bossam served with freshly made kimchi.

But because of last night, her body felt sluggish and heavy.

“Is it because you haven’t fully recovered from your cold? Are you feeling very sick, Teacher Han?”

The Director asked, noticing Na-Eun moving significantly slower than usual. Na-Eun looked up.

“No, it’s nothing. I think my body aches are just lingering.”

As she brushed it off vaguely, the Director clicked her tongue.

“Colds these days are stubborn. They subside only to flare up again. I don’t know why. Still, you’ll need to put in some effort today.”

“Yes. I’ll do my best. Please don’t worry.”

Though she spoke with forced spirit, the Director knit her brows in concern.

“Still, don’t overexert yourself. If word gets back to the Chairman for no reason, he might think I’m not taking care of my teachers.”

The Director had been exceptionally kind to Na-Eun ever since the Chairman’s visit, but Na-Eun didn’t dwell on it. The kindergarten was bustling with activity from early morning.

Sunlight sparkled off the patches of the first snow that had fallen yesterday along the windowsill. A cold wind blew, so the children gathered at the practice site bundled in thick clothes, each fitted with a waterproof apron and the smallest pair of rubber gloves available. Taking photos of the children in their gear was an important task; these were pictures meant for their parents.

The kitchen staff had been busy since dawn. Salted cabbage, red chili powder, minced garlic, salted shrimp, and ginger were laid out in clean basins. Each ingredient gave off an appetizing scent. In a large cauldron, the bossam meat was steaming, ready for the children. Jiho and Minho, wearing their tiny aprons, looked incredibly adorable.

Na-Eun explained the process and let the children taste a bit of the seasoning. It was made as mildly as possible, but the spicy kick of the chili powder still made them wince. “It’s spicy!” or “Give me water!” they cried, though their eyes remained filled with curiosity as they stared at the red paste.

“Now, we’re going to put this inside the cabbage leaves. I’ll show you how.”

Na-Eun applied the seasoning to a leaf. The children carefully picked up their own leaves and began spreading the paste with small, awkward hands.

“Teacher, this is bigger than my hand!”

The room erupted in laughter.

“This is even bigger than my face!”

Another child covered their face with a cabbage leaf. As they worked, the children’s faces and aprons began to turn red with stray seasoning. The teachers assisting nearby watched closely, ensuring no chili paste accidentally touched their eyes.

“Doing it like this makes the kimchi ferment deliciously,” Na-Eun explained.

One child tilted their head. “Then can we eat it tomorrow?”

The kitchen ladies laughed. “We’ll eat it today. It tastes best when you have the bossam and the kimchi together.”

Once they were served meat with the blander cabbage, the children dug in. Some claimed it was too spicy and ate only the meat, while others ate the kimchi despite making huffing noises, insisting it was delicious. The practice room was a mess of chili powder, but it was filled with the warmth of the children’s laughter.

After the children went home, there was significant cleanup to be done.

“Mommy.”

“Yes? Why?”

“Am I going late with you, Mommy? Can’t I go home with Minho?”

Na-Eun put a finger to her lips. “Shh, didn’t Mommy tell you? It’s a secret that we live in the same house as Minho.”

“Okay. Shh.”

Jiho also put a finger to his lips and nodded. “But why is it a secret?”

It was a difficult question. After a moment of hesitation, Na-Eun said simply,

“Isn’t it fun to have a secret? People don’t know, and it makes us a family of our own.”

A secret that no one knew—that they had spent the night together where no one could see. Na-Eun’s heart thumped. She had a secret that belonged only to them.

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Keep reading. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Mommy, are we going home in our car today, too?”

Jiho loved the new car. It was compact but stylish. On the first day she drove it to the kindergarten, the other teachers had been envious—and worried.

[It must take a long time to pay off the installments for this; Teacher Han is going to have to eat only rice and kimchi for a while.]

Even the Director had praised her with an envious look.

[You bought a car like this because you have the ability to afford it. Don’t be envious of other people’s cars.]

The Director likely assumed Na-Eun’s family was wealthy since she knew the Chairman. Na-Eun didn’t care; she was just grateful the child liked the car.

Na-Eun drove Jiho onto the road. It seemed Choi Kang-Woo was right.

[It seems you have a knack for driving, Han Na-Eun. Aside from the first day when you couldn’t change lanes and ended up on the highway, you’re actually a decent driver. So, have some confidence.]

She was careful, but she felt a swell of pride. She never imagined she would be driving around like this. Ten minutes into the drive, her phone rang. It was Misuk.

-Hey. I’m at your kindergarten right now. Did you already leave?

The sharp, shrill voice grated on her ears.

“Mom, why did you come to the kindergarten without calling?”

-Why do you think? I bought a cake for our Jiho.

“I’ve already left work.”

It was a hint to just go home, but Misuk had no intention of doing so.

-Then I’ll just go to your house. Where did you move to?

Na-Eun bit her lip hard. She couldn’t let her know where she lived.

“I’ll come to you. Just wait there.”

The kindergarten was safer than her home. When she turned the car around and arrived back at the yard, she saw Misuk loitering by the gate. After parking, Jiho stepped out.

“Grandma!”

“Jiho.”

However, Misuk’s eyes didn’t turn to Jiho, but remained fixed entirely on the car.

“This car—isn’t this a foreign car? How much did this cost? Is this why you asked me to send you three million won?”

Na-Eun cursed inwardly. She had forgotten about the car in her haste. She quickly gathered her wits.

“How could this be my car? It’s Hye-seon’s.”

“Hye-seon?”

Misuk looked at her with a blank stare. Since she never cared about Na-Eun’s life, she wouldn’t remember the name. Na-Eun said with confidence,

“Yes. My friend. I’ve told you about her many times, but you never remember.”

Misuk scanned the car once more. “Hye-seon drives a car like this? I guess one of your friends must actually be well-off.”

Na-Eun spoke to her mother, who was still eyeing the car with suspicion.

“I borrowed it for a few days. It’s nice having a car. Mom, buy me one, too. My sister drives a nice car. I have a driver’s license, you know.”

Misuk jumped at the words.

“If I had the money to buy you a car, would I have asked you to send me four hundred thousand won?”

“Did you prepare the money?”

“What money?”

“I told you I needed three million won.”

“What do you think I am, a bottomless money pit? To give you everything you ask for?”

“Then why did you come?”

“I told you, I bought a cake.”

Looking at the small mini-cake box, it seemed she had intended to ask for something else.

“Mom, don’t even bother bringing up money.”

Misuk sighed. “I know.”

Na-Eun hammered the point home so Misuk wouldn’t come looking for her again.

“I’m too ashamed of how shabby my new place is to bring you there.”

“I suppose that’s true. Housing prices have gone up so much, and the jeonse and monthly rent have all risen, too.”

“So, please contribute some money.”

Na-Eun kept talking about money on purpose. It was the best way to keep Park Misuk at bay.