“Look, you have the wrong idea—”
“I may be so poor that I committed the faux pas of asking you to call me instead of calling you first, but I will pay you back for the phone call someday. Capitalism is nothing before the forces of love and passion! Oh, my lay-ee-dee, my lehdeu roseu—”
“I’m not an English major!”
She slammed down the phone and looked for a newspaper. On the very last page was her photograph accompanied by large letters: looking for a man to be my child’s father. Her name and age were next to the photo along with “Graduate student, literature” as her occupation. Her phone number, clearly printed, underneath that.
At the dinner table, she brandished the newspaper and berated her family. They glanced at each other and said it had been a last-ditch effort to get her child a father.
“We thought it might be easier if we were just honest about it up front …”
She was annoyed, but thinking back on the obstetrician’s warning, she couldn’t help but agree just a little. She suffered through many phone calls after that. But she did have a glimmer of hope before picking up every call.
When she refused to answer Romeo’s pleading texts, he began calling her. Every day, it was a new scene from a play of some male character wooing a woman, topped off with his begging her to meet him. There were prank calls from children, as well as serious calls from women offering to introduce her to their brothers, fathers, sons, even husbands. There were threats, too.
“Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Kim Younglan?”
“Yes?”
“Remember me, bitch?”
“What?”
“We fucked. Don’t you remember? Your baby is my baby.”
“Uh, I think you’ve dialed the wrong—”
“Enough with this bullshit. Let’s talk. Bring ten million won to the MM Hotel coffee shop at noon tomorrow. Then I’ll keep it a secret.”
“Excuse me, what was the number you wanted to call?”
“Are you stupid or something? Is tomorrow too soon? All right, I’ll cut you a break. You have until this weekend to come to the MM Hotel coffee shop with the money. Or else I’m going to go around your neighborhood saying that we fucked and that your baby is mine. Understand? Everyone is going to know what a slut you are.”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I need, a man to be the father—”
“Your future is at stake so think about it. Ten million won until this weekend. Got it?”
He hung up.
She suffered through many more pointless calls. Then one day, she finally received a somewhat promising one.
“Hello?”
“Hello, I’m calling in answer of an ad. Are you Kim Younglan?” The man’s voice was young and polite.
“This is she.”
“You said you were looking for a father for the child, right? Do you have any specific requirements? Age, or that kind of thing …”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She answered vaguely, “Well, I don’t know about any requirements, I guess as long as it’s someone who can be a good father—”
“Oh, really?” The man seemed to think for a while. “Then how does one apply to be the child’s father?”
She grinned, thinking he was an interesting person. “You don’t need to put in an application. Could you tell me about yourself?”
“Oh, how rude of me.” He went on to say he was thirty-three years old, a graduate of a top school, and currently working at a conglomerate. Having never worked in a corporate setting, she wasn’t sure what his job title really meant, but she had a feeling that he was in a very high position for someone so young. Really, a flawless candidate. Even if he were lying, and it was true she was a little suspicious, she found herself liking the overall impression he gave off as a person. More than anything else, she liked that he had asked her what she was looking for in a father. After a long conversation, they made a date to meet at the MM Hotel coffee shop on the weekend and hung up.
On the day of the date, she chose the most business-like maternity dress she had, carefully applied her makeup, and went to the café with her heart pounding and her arms hugging her belly.
At the entrance, as she stood for a moment looking around, wondering who might be her date, a young man approached her.
“Are you Kim Younglan?”
“I am.”
The man whose voice she recognized from the phone was exceptionally handsome. She followed him to a table. There was an old man sitting there, and two men wearing sunglasses standing at attention behind him.