Drip Coffee Dawn and Secret Sisters
“Honey~”
Her sweet voice whispered right in his ear.
“Yeah. You up?”
“Yeah.”
“Craving coffee already?”
“Yeah. But room service doesn’t have any coffee here.”
“Got it. Hang on.”
Park Maru got out of bed and headed to the kitchen, where he put water on to boil. He pulled instant coffee and a filter paper from his jacket pocket, set it over a cup, and carefully poured the hot water in little by little. As the rich aroma filled the room, she slipped into a robe and came out to the kitchen.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Brought it from Busan.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“Checked the website—didn’t look like there was a coffee shop around. Figured you’d want some first thing in the morning, so I came prepared.”
“Really? For me?”
“Who else is here but you?”
“You really know how to melt me, honey. Thank you~ And I love you.”
Truth be told, Maru was a instant coffee guy himself and didn’t mind either way, but she loved a fresh drip brew. If she’d woken up craving it in this rural spot, he’d have had to drive into the city at dawn to fetch some. Packing it hadn’t been any trouble anyway.
Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the living room sofa, savoring the coffee’s scent while gazing at Gyeoryongsan Mountain—it had its own charm. She leaned her head on his shoulder, flashing adorable smiles from time to time.
After heading into Daejeon for hangover soup breakfast, they made their way to the station.
“Travel safe.”
“Don’t worry. You think I’m some kid who’s never traveled alone?”
“Still, sending you off by yourself makes me anxious.”
“Should I ride the train to Busan with you, then head to Seoul from there?”
“What if you get bored going up alone later? Better if I go to Seoul first and come back down.”
“No. Let’s just part here. You’ve got work.”
“Yeah. We’ll meet sooner next time.”
“Your train’s about to arrive. Hurry.”
Somehow, his train pulled in first. He left her at Daejeon Station and departed. Calling her from the aisle, she didn’t pick up. Worried about the office, he phoned the office manager.
“Brother, nothing going on at the office?”
“What would be? Everything handled okay?”
“Yes. On my way back now.”
“Take your time.”
After hanging up with the office manager, he tried Ara—no answer there either. No emergencies, so he pocketed his phone, returned to his seat, and sank into the chair.
Minutes later, Ara called back.
“You didn’t pick up earlier.”
“Yeah, I was on another call. Where are you, honey?”
“At Busan Station. I’ll swing by the office, then head to the library.”
“Got a dinner thing tonight.”
“Oh? Can’t be helped. Don’t stay out too late.”
“Got it. See you tomorrow, honey.”
With nothing pressing, fatigue hit him hard. He took a taxi straight to the office. Walking in, he found the Youth Committee Chair and Student Committee Chair chatting animatedly next to Jeong-ah, while the office manager talked with a guest in the smoking room.
“Good trip?”
“Yes. No issues here?”
“Grandma misses her daughter. Thinking of heading to Yangsan tomorrow.”
“Sure. Since it came up, why not go now? If the Women’s Committee Chair isn’t busy.”
“That works. But aren’t you tired?”
“I’m fine.”
He called Grandma to prepare, then picked up the Women’s Committee Chair and drove to her place. Grandma mentioned her daughter loved spicy tteokbokki, so they bought some along with fruit, drinks, and snacks before heading to the hospital. During visiting hours, he escorted Grandma to the room, then he and the Women’s Committee Chair waited in the first-floor lobby café. Her phone rang.
“Yes, Grandma. We’ll do that.”
“My daughter wants to see you briefly, Secretary Park.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go up then.”
Opening the room door, her daughter sat up in bed to greet them. He helped her sit comfortably, pulled up a chair, and faced her.
“You’re Secretary Park, right?”
“Yes. Park Maru, congressional secretary.”
“Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Repay? It was just a politician doing his job. The ones you should thank are the Women’s Committee Chair and her team here.”
“Thank you, Women’s Committee Chair. I’ll repay this kindness. Thanks for taking care of my mom.”
“Get better and get discharged soon. I didn’t know much about this illness, but I looked it up—proper treatment means you can live normally. I even brought a book for you; read it when you’re bored.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The Women’s Committee Chair pulled a book from her bag—somehow she’d prepared it—and handed it over. The daughter clutched it like treasure against her chest.
That book was one Maru had read thanks to this patient, Sin Hye. Published by the Korean Schizophrenia Society, a group of neuropsychiatrists, it helped families understand the illness—essential reading for anyone in her shoes.
“It’s been ages since someone gave me a gift.”
“……”
“Just a few more weeks of hospitalization till discharge. Please keep looking after my mom till then.”
“Yes. Don’t worry—focus on treatment.”
Visiting hours ended; they left the room. Her daughter followed to the hall, waving goodbye. Back at the car, tears welled in Grandma’s eyes in the backseat.
“It’ll be hard on you, but hang in there a bit longer.”
“Hard? Seeing my girl healthy like this just makes me happy.”
“Next time I’m free, I’ll bring you again. Call anytime you miss her.”
“Yes.”
The drive back was subdued, thanks to Grandma leaving her daughter behind. Cruising the riverside road from Hwamyeong-dong, the sunset outside felt poignant—like the sun, which had blazed through the day, now dragging its weary form to a final flicker, mirroring Grandma’s twilight years.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“Me? You drove, Secretary—you did the heavy lifting.”
“Dinner first, then home. My treat—something good.”
“Appreciate it.”
They ate samgyeopsal near the office, dropped her home, and called it a day.
After parting from Eun-mi and boarding the train to Busan, she hadn’t gone to Seoul. Instead, she took the next train down.
While he visited Grandma’s daughter at Yangsan Busan National University Hospital, Ara was meeting Eun-mi. From Eun-mi’s view, she felt guilty toward his fiancée, so she’d arranged it. But to Ara, Eun-mi—the wife of Assemblyman Hwang, holding Maru’s leash—was intimidating. Even without that, ordinary folk bowed naturally to a congressman’s wife.
“Come on in, Ara.”
“Sorry I’m a bit late.”
“No, I just got here too.”
Ara sat across from Eun-mi, puzzled and uneasy about why the assemblyman’s wife wanted to meet privately.
“So, what’s this about?”
“Just dinner, girl talk—let’s get closer.”
“You and me, ma’am?”
“Don’t wanna get close to me?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Maru told me you know about us.”
“Yes.”
“I feel bad, and I don’t know what to do. So I came down to talk it out.”
Eun-mi cut straight to it, laying out her affair with Maru and seeking Ara’s thoughts. But what could an unmarried Ara say? They were equals as his lovers; her only leverage was exposure, which would hurt not just Hwang and Eun-mi, but Maru too. She wouldn’t.
“I’m okay with it, ma’am. There must be reasons you two got together.”
“Still sorry to you.”
“I can’t monopolize honey with his work. Honestly, glad it’s you.”
“So we can be close from now on?”
“How could I with you?”
“We’re both Maru’s women. Let’s be friends.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“‘Ma’am’ feels off. Call me sis?”
“Me?”
“Yeah—makes us closer.”
“Okay, sis. Drop the formalities too.”
In the end, Ara’s concession redefined their bond. She knew the world’s ways, especially politics: beyond men-women issues, Maru needed to impress not just Assemblyman Hwang, but Eun-mi too, to survive. Whatever her heart said, she had to yield.