The calligrapher's daughter_ a novel - Eugenia Kim [108]
I was aware that he picked up his jacket and sat next to me. I had never felt such humiliation. He said nothing, and after a while I lowered my hands, red-faced and still. “Please excuse my outburst,” I said quietly. “Forgive me. I’m really quite ashamed.”
He spoke slowly. “Miss Han. Forgive me. I am a bumpkin. Your father said you’d spent a few years in the royal court. I can see that my manner must be coarse to you. I apologize again. I’ve spoken to your father and mother, and perhaps now I should make myself very clear.” He rustled in his trouser pocket and brought forth a small padded silk purse, the kind used for jewelry. I refused to think it was something for me. He fumbled with its slippery string tie, and I noticed his flat elongated nails, and how clean and smooth his hands were—hands nicer than mine. I couldn’t breathe when he took my left hand, his fingertips dry and trembling slightly, turned my palm up and pressed in it a fine circle of gold knotted with a fiery dot of red.
“Miss Han, will you be my wife?”
My throat caught, a small breathy gasp. I looked at the jewel. I looked at him and saw he was unsure of my response, his eyes deep, serious, open to me and yes, loving. It shocked me, the unjudging wanting I saw, and I felt my body flood with unexpected relief, gratitude and acceptance. My eyes filled and I nodded.
He cupped my hand and held the ring to show me. “I’m afraid it’s another Western tradition. An engagement ring. In America they give diamonds for longevity, but I’m ashamed to say this was all I could afford.” He slipped it on my finger. “You honor me if you’ll wear it thus.”
“I— Beautiful— Too much—”
“Does that mean yes?”
“Yes! Oh! I thought you were angry. I thought I’d displeased you somehow!”
“That is my fault. I was eager to reach this place. Now you can guess why.”
I covered my lips and laugh-cried. “Such a beautiful place. A lovely jewel.”
“A small ruby. I wish it was more.”
“No. It’s beautiful. Perfection.” I smiled at him and saw my unexpected joy reflected in his smile, his gold-edged tooth amazingly endearing.
“Han Najin,” he said.
“Mr. Cho,” I responded. “I mean—Cho Calvin, Jeong—excuse me—”
“Calvin.” He laughed.
“Let me pour you some water.” I wished I had something to give him besides food. “Do Western women give men a token of betrothal in return?”
“They don’t. I believe saying yes is enough of a token for the man.”
I watched my ringed finger as I filled the tin cups and set out the buns. “Mother will be pleased, I think.”
“She was very happy, and I must say she gave me plenty of assurance. I was quite nervous. Your father, too, was more than agreeable.”
I appreciated this little confession about his anxiety and wanted to tell him about Father trying to marry me off earlier, but decided I’d wait a few years before telling that story, maybe after a few sons. The thought of children led to thoughts of conceiving them—with this very man!—and I was so mortified I busied myself unnecessarily with arranging our picnic.
Calvin said grace, thanking God for the blessing of our engagement. We ate looking out over the sea, gentle winds stirring the dark scrub pines above us. Everything appeared brightly saturated with color—salty, sharp and fresh—and I understood by his exclamations over the shining scene below that he felt the same.
He ate as quickly as I’d witnessed before, but this time he refused my offer of the remainder of my fish and bun.
“Miss Han,” he said, and I delighted in hearing my name from his lips. “I’ve taken some liberties with your future.” Surprised, I stopped chewing. “Your mother told me that you hope to attend medical school one day.” A buzzing filled my ears and I swatted the air.
“When I returned to Pyeongyang after meeting your family, I immediately spoke to my father.” He chuckled. “My father has long awaited this day. I’m afraid I’ve tested his patience for quite some time. He was very pleased to hear of my intentions and suggested I ask my sponsor if he knew of a school that would accept you for graduate work.”
It was terribly