Face Time (18 page)

I turn onto Vaikunthlal Mehta Road and slow down because in and off to my left is the Flying Club Shantytown. You can’t see much of it from the road but I know it’s there. Little Indian boys on the sidewalk run after me, laughing and waving their skinny arms, but I keep going, trying not to break my pace because, if I stop, they’ll swarm all over me. Ahead of me, though, is a line of white United Nations and Red Cross trucks, with dogs barking at them, so I slow even further, coming to a stop amongst a cluster of people watching men and women stream from the truck beds with supplies.

“What’s going on?” I ask an older man next to me. I hope he speaks English.

“They’ve come to give vaccinations and fresh water.” He points down the alley at the retreating backs of people wearing UN and Red Cross smocks.
 

“I see.” I nod at him, and we grow silent watching workers stream down the alley, dogs nipping at their heels and little children running after them. I stare hard at the UN trucks. I knew a guy in law school who applied to work for the UN right after graduation. I wonder if he’s still working for them and likes what he does. I have mixed feelings about the UN, but, watching this woman smile at a little boy and hold his hand to lead him to a vaccination tent, my chest constricts. I’m not cut out for humanitarian work — my heart is too soft — but maybe I should find out what other kind of work is available to me.

I pop my iPhone out of my arm band and back up to take a few photos for Laura and resume my run past the remainder of the shantytown. Turning left onto Juhu Tara Road, my mind starts to zone out again. This stretch is filled with high-end hotels right on the water. Sea salt infused air whips past my head, enhancing the smell of fried dough and dosas from carts at the intersections. They each have lines a dozen deep, and my stomach starts to growl.

Just before the bottom turn of Juhu Tara Road to Juhu Road, where I turn left and loop around the airport back up to my hotel, I slow down again. One moment I’m thinking about how I want change jobs to something more fulfilling, take a pay cut, and only travel for fun, and the next I’m staring into a jewelry store. I’ve already purchased a gift for Laura from this trip, but I haven’t sent it yet. India is well-known for its gold jewelry. I’d love to get her something she could wear all the time but not a ring. It’s too suggestive. A necklace? No. Bracelets. A stack of them that she could wear one-at-a-time or all at once. Yes, that’s perfect for her. The sign on the door says the store is only open till 6:00pm everyday, so I’ll have to come back at lunch.

I side-step this building and run down a causeway to Juhu Beach. A few families are out walking before the sun climbs higher in the sky, and a group of men are sitting and drinking tea while staring out at the water. The surf is calm, small waves breaking and pulling back out to sea, and the tide is out, making the beach seem a mile wide. Removing my iPhone from the armband again, I go back to my playlists and scroll through, stopping on The Beatles. I wasn’t joking around with Laura. I do love The Beatles. I have every one of their albums loaded on my iPhone. Which one to listen to? Time stops ticking as my finger hovers over “Let It Be.”
 

My whole life, I’ve cruised along, letting the criticisms from my mother, Nari, and Sandra sit and eat away at me. I’ve been waiting for the answers to come, waiting for enlightenment. Now my life is coming into focus since I met Laura, and I feel like I just ran past the turning point.

I take a few more pictures and then turn the camera to my sweaty face and smile. Laughing at the photo of myself, I don’t think I’ve ever looked so happy. I hope when Laura gets this she can tell how changed I am with purpose and direction. I can’t wait to talk to her again.

I attach the photos from my run after a text,
“To Laura. From Lee.”
After the photo of me I write,
“I’m always thinking about you.”

I’ll send them all when I get back to the hotel.

The Korea Society is located on the corner of Fifty-Seventh Street and Third Avenue in the same building with a bank. For a moment, I think I must be in the wrong place but then see the colorful signs ushering me to the eighth floor. I check in at the front desk, and the woman attendant points me towards a small classroom. I walk slowly, examining all the exhibits along the way, but I pause the longest in front of a display of Korean dresses. The placard reads, “Traditional Korean hanbok worn on special occasions.” They’re so colorful. Pinks, reds, greens, and blues all together in one dress with a short jacket over the top. I wonder what I’d look like in something like this.

The classroom is small and only a few people are seated here, mostly white men with their smartphones out, texting away, but there’s a woman about my age, maybe a little younger, sitting next to them reading, so I sit next to her. She has chin length, dark brown hair, clipped back on one side, a strong wave hooking a curl right over her cheek. She might be Indian or Middle Eastern, I think. She flips the page in her book and a stack of thin, gold bangle bracelets clink on her right wrist. Sitting up higher in her chair, she adjusts her red blouse in the process. We glance at each other and say hi briefly but she goes back to her book so I pull out my iPhone.
 

I check the World Clock and it’s about 4am in Mumbai. I’m sure Lee is asleep. I won’t bother him, so I put my phone on vibrate and slip it back into my bag before grabbing my notebook and pencil.
 

I let the purple bag Lee gave me sit on my lap for a few moments, running my index finger up the channel of white stitches along the seam. I’ve been thinking all day about what happened with my mother. After work yesterday, I met up with Justin for drinks at the Blue Bar. I sat in the same seat I had a few weeks ago when I met Lee and concentrated on the stool next to me for several minutes hoping he would appear. I was wishing for a second chance at our first encounter. I wouldn’t have snapped at him, and maybe I would have flirted with him even more, to the point we could have had a whole night together. Regrets. I’m filled with regrets. Justin arrived and jerked me out of my misery only to remind me that my own mother is dumping me after I changed my life to come home and help look after her. My fucking father. If he weren’t dead, I’d punch him in the face. I don’t know why I listened to him. I think the allure of a steady paycheck and a nice place to live was too much for me to pass up. I was poor and had three roommates in New Orleans but at least I was independent.

But now I have to deal with Lee. I’m going to tell him everything. I can’t keep my past from him. If a relationship between us works out, he’ll eventually meet my mother, and I can’t trust her not to blab. I would live in fear of being found out. Or, I could break up with Lee, but I know I’d regret that. It’s only been a few weeks since we met, and I’d be willing to wait a few months until we see each other again. What’s a few months in the grand scheme of things anyway? It’s nothing. He’s worth waiting for. Being patient is like being tortured, though. I’ve been dreaming about having sex with him. It’s like porn in my brain while I’m asleep. At this point, I’d be happy to go to bed and dream about bunnies eating grass in a field.
 

“Is this your first time here at Korea Society?” the woman next to me asks pulling a red ribbon bookmark across her page and shutting the book.

“Oh.” I close my bag and set it next to me on the floor. “Yes. I’ve never been here before. You?”

“I’ve been here a few times for their events but not for the language classes. I’m going to move back to Korea in the fall so I thought I’d get back on the wagon.”

“Oh really? That sounds like fun.” I want to move to Korea. I haven’t admitted this even to myself until now, but I want to move into Lee’s apartment and live with him. What is wrong with me? We barely know each other.

“I lived in Seoul for three years as an English teacher then moved back to New York. I decided I miss it too much.” She pulls a yellow, vinyl- bound Korean dictionary from her bag, a notebook, and pencil. Hmmm, I should buy a dictionary. Hers has scribbles all over the cover, the corners are creased and dirty, and it reminds me of all the journals I kept while traveling Asia. They’re currently stashed away in the back of my closet.

“I’m Laura,” I say, holding out my hand to shake. She smiles and grasps it, the bangles jingling again.

“I’m Nicole. So, Laura, why are you learning Korean?”

I panic for a moment, knowing what I say will be analyzed by this complete stranger, but she seems kind enough.

“My boyfriend is Korean American and lives in Seoul. I don’t know. I just wanted to learn to…” Why did I want to learn Korean? It was an instinctual compulsion. I shrug my shoulders. “I have no idea why.”

“To be close to him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly. I thought I could learn so we’d have even more to talk about, and, maybe when I go there, I’ll feel like I fit in.”

Nicole nods her head. “I get that. I had a Korean boyfriend while I lived in Seoul. We still talk all the time, and I think he wants me back.” She winks at me, and my excitement grows. Nicole may understand my relationship with Lee.

“This relationship with Lee, my boyfriend, is really new. We only met a few weeks ago, here in the city. But now he’s back in Seoul. Actually, he’s in Mumbai now.”

“Oh. I have family in Mumbai.”

“You’re Indian?”

“Half. My father is Indian. My mother is Caucasian. She likes to say, ‘Pale as the driven snow.’” Nicole laughs, so this must be a family joke. “Anyway, wow, that is a new relationship. Do you talk online a lot?”

“We text and FaceTime. It’s been fun and frustrating so far.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she laughs again. Okay, good. She’s not a prude.

“I’m sure. You should learn some dirty Korean too and keep things spicy. Ji-Hoo and I did that all the time.”

“Ji-Hoo is your ex?”

“Yeah, he likes to be called Jim, though. I’m going to Skype with him all summer and then steal him back in the fall.”

I love her already. “Good plan.”

“What about you? Planning a visit to Seoul?” She leans forward and props her chin on her hand.
 

“I’d like to jump on a plane now, but I have family stuff to take care of first. It’s in the works, though.”

“Well, let’s stick together then. Maybe we’ll both be in Korea at the same time.” She pats my hand, and I smile back at her. Rarely is there ever somebody in a crowd more outgoing than I am. Nicole could be a kindred spirit.
 

I read too much Anne of Green Gables as a child.

The door opens again and a petite Korean woman enters the room, dressed business-casual in a black skirt and heels and a pink blouse with a bright smile on her face and an uneven stack of paper in her hands. “
An nyoung ha seh yo,
” she chimes and my stomach flutters with butterflies as everyone turns to greet her back. This is going to be fun.

(>’o’)> ♥ <(‘o’<)

Lee Park

It’s 5:30am here. I’m so wiped, but I’m forcing myself to go running again. How was Korean class?

Laura Merchant

It was so fun. We learned basic greetings and she started going over how to read Hangul.

It seems pretty easy and intuitive. I’m sure I’ll pick it up in no time.

There was a girl in class I clicked with immediately. Nicole. She’s half-Indian and has family in Mumbai.
 

I told her about you.

Lee Park

Nice things, I hope.

Laura Merchant

Of course, Lee. God, I miss talking to you.

Shit. I’m going to cry. Walk faster.

Lee Park

Don’t cry, baby. I miss talking to you too.

Where are you?

Laura Merchant

Walking to get Chinese takeout.
 

I’m sure I’m not the only crying, single girl who has picked up General Tso’s chicken for one.

Lee Park

Well, you’re taken, not single.

Mine.

Laura Merchant

You’re making me smile. Thanks.

Work’s been busy?

Lee Park

Insane. I was at the office till 11 last night.

No cooking at home tonight?

Laura Merchant

It’s past 8 here. I have the fixings for a curry I’m going to make tomorrow but rice will take 45 min.
 

I need to eat now. Starving.

Mom is going out to dinner tomorrow. I didn’t tell her we’re talking over FaceTime.

Lee Park

I love that you love to cook.

Uh oh. Is your mom still mad with me?

I’m sorry, Laura.

Laura Merchant

Not your fault, Lee.

Get your cute ass on a plane and come eat my curry.

That was a seriously dirty text if you add on THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID.

Lee Park

I’m dying. Lol.

I have a cute ass?

Laura Merchant

You do. I checked it out on our first date.
 

Some woman at Starbucks caught me in the act.

Lee Park

You make me laugh all the time.

Laura Merchant

I try. I’d rather laugh than cry.

Lee Park

Me too.

Laura Merchant

Go run. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Xo

Lee Park

I don’t want to sign off. Let’s just chat until I need to go to work.

Laura Merchant

Nope. You need your therapy exercise just as much as I do.
 

Someday, maybe, we can run together.

Lee Park

Erase someday and maybe from that last text and insert soon.

Laura Merchant

:)

Lee Park

Ok, I’m going. Sleep well, gorgeous. Xo.

It took every ounce of strength I have not to tell him about my crazy mother and how much I already love him. I’ve only known him three weeks. How can anyone love someone that quickly? It took three months for me to feel the same about Rene. I look back on our relationship now, and it wasn’t half of the love I already feel for Lee. My heart is playing tricks on my brain.