Eighteen’s Bed

“The property value in Gupseong is definitely rising. Well, it’s because they’re planning to build a KTX station there.”

“Is that so? From what I’ve heard, there’s quite a bit of opposition from the local residents.”

“No, once this administration ends, it will be built within a few years. I’ll let you know the location, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to invest around there.”@@novelbin@@

“Are you certain?”

The smile disappeared from Go Yohan’s mother’s eyes, and her gaze immediately shifted to my mother, sharp and deep. My mother took a sip of tea before speaking calmly.

“Trust me. Consider it a token of gratitude. It’s only right to offer you something like this.”

“I haven’t done anything significant enough to hear such information… You’re truly impressive. I’m not well-educated, so I don’t know much about these things. Neither do my kids. I should probably learn.”

“You’re already doing well. Your eldest son is already attending a prestigious university overseas.”

“Oh my, you’re just flattering me. But honestly, raising children is still so hard for me.”

“Three kids must be tough, right?”

“Tough. It’s amazing how they can be so different despite coming from the same womb.”

It was the kind of conversation you listen to with one ear and let out through the other. My gaze remained fixed on the glass display cabinet. I was certain it had been empty before. But now—now, a younger version of Go Yohan was beaming brightly, clutching a bouquet of flowers overflowing from his arms.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs.

“…Yohan must have been a handful, wasn’t he?”

Still staring at the display, I asked the question as if in a trance.

“Well, he’s always had a… unique personality.”

“You think so?”

“Don’t you?”

At last, my eyes left the display case. I met Go Yohan’s mother’s gaze, almost by accident. Realizing it might seem like I was interrogating her, I quickly looked away. But then, she said something strange.

“Who knows.”

That was it. Just that. I lifted my head in confusion. That’s it? Who knows? What was that supposed to mean?

Yet, she wore that same inscrutable smile—the same one she had when she said something I couldn’t understand.

“I find my youngest daughter more difficult. Maybe it’s because she’s my first daughter.”

“Well, I can’t offer much advice. I don’t have a daughter. Sorry about that.”

“Funny, isn’t it? We were both daughters once, yet I still find raising one so difficult.”

A brief silence, broken only by the soft clatter of teacups.