Face Time (6 page)

“You live on Fifteenth Street, right? I saw the address you sent me.” Lee clutches my hand in his. “Over by Chelsea Market?”

“Yeah. I go there all the time. The neighborhood has grown in the last few years especially. It doesn’t look anything like it did when I moved in.”

“Seoul is always changing. After the war, it grew and grew and now new buildings are up every year there.”

Our conversation dies as we near the corner, and I slow down to a stop. I… I really don’t know what to do. This can’t go anywhere.

“I can get a cab going crosstown from here,” I say, looking down at my shoes. “If you walk back over to Lafayette, you can get a cab going uptown.”

“Okay. Laura…” He turns to face me, so very close. He withdraws his warm hand from his pocket and softly strokes the length of my chin, pushing my eyes up to his. I guess I’m not the impulsive one tonight. “I’d like to see you again. Somehow. I don’t know when I’ll be back in New York, though.”

“I understand.” I clench my legs together because a fire is burning right in the middle of them, and I haven’t had sex in so long I don’t know what to do with the feeling. My vibrator doesn’t count. “Maybe we can keep in touch, if you’re up for it.” I smile at his eager face, only three inches from mine.

“I think I’m up for almost anything when it comes to you. In fact…” He steps in even closer, letting go of my hand and pulling me in by the small of my back. “I’m going to kiss you, and I’m not going to regret it for a second.”

Pulling my face to his, our lips meet hesitantly at first, warmth growing between us as a breeze curls around my legs and up my jacket. His lips brush against mine, feathery light and playful, soft and sweet, the test kiss when you put your toes in the water to find out if the bath is hot enough. Then I lean in and bind my lips to his. This kiss goes all in, a deep inhale followed by the kind of release that makes my eyes roll back in my head. If I were paying closer attention, I’d notice the curry, the beer, and the coffee, but instead all I sense is the seed he’s planting in my soul, the one that takes root and convinces me I’m a worthy person again, worthy of love and affection, worthy of attention.
 

I set my hands free from their safe haven between us and wrap them around his waist, sighing and enjoying this regret-free kiss. It pushes Lee even closer, both of his hands on my cheeks, guiding my mouth into his, and his relief is evident in the release of his muscles along his waist and back.

Earlier, I wanted to pause time in several instances — when he took my photo, when he held my hand, when he smiled at me over the top of the coffee bar — but, now, this is what I want to remember. This is the moment when he likes me for all the right reasons, and I want to capture that blissful ignorance and never live without it.

The moment unsticks, our lips pulling away at the same time, and he kisses me along my left cheek to my ear. I hug him close and rest my forehead on his shoulder.

“Thank you for tonight, Laura,” he whispers in my ear, and I nod into his sweater, letting myself feel happy for this instead of sad he won’t be here tomorrow. We dislodge our arms from each other and do our best to smile at one another before he takes my hand, leads me to the curb, hails a cab, and puts me in it.

“Don’t be a stranger, Lee.” I lift my eyebrows at him while closing the door.

My last glimpse is the smile on his face, his hand raised in goodbye, as my cab speeds away down Third Street.

(>’o’)> ♥ <(‘o’<)

I don’t remember anything about the cab ride, the stairs to my brownstone building, nor the path I weave up to my third floor apartment. I fumble with my keychain and drop it once before taking a deep breath and focusing all of my attention on the brass key that’ll permit me entry inside. When I get the door open, the hinges creak, and the bottom sweep scrapes across the front hall, catching on the carpet. The cleaning ladies were here again and didn’t move the carpet back the six inch clearance it needs, and neither did my mother. She’s pretty oblivious to this sort of thing.

I dump my bag on the floor, close the door, and lean back against it, staring down at our line of shoes along the white, hallway wall. My mother’s perfect pumps sit next to my flats and running shoes.

“Laura, is that you?” my mother calls out from the kitchen. The shuffling of slippered feet approaches the hallway. “How was dinner?”

“It definitely wasn’t just dinner, it was a date.” I stare back at the floor, concentrating so hard on the green and black pattern of the rug, I hope to pause time and go back.

“It was?” she asks, coming forward into the hallway.

“It was the best first date in the history of all first dates.” I unwind the scarf from my neck and pick up my bag from the floor. “And he’s going home to Korea tomorrow.”

“Oh, honey. That’s too bad.” Her mouth twists to the side, her eyes sad. I haven’t had a good first date in years. This should be laudable news but it’s not.

“It’s okay. I’m going to bed. Why are you still up?”

“I was talking with Aunt Sally on the phone and lost track of time.” She’s already in her pristine robe, tailored, pink pajama pants peeking out from under the hem, and her graying blonde hair is twisted neatly up at her neck. She opens her mouth and throws in some pills before swallowing them with a gulp of water. “And then Richard called, and he has all of these plans for us for the next few weeks…”

“That’s great, Mom,” I interrupt, not wanting to be subjected to all the details of events her newest perfect boyfriend has for them. I’m sure she’d open her mouth and tell me about the next trip to Monte Carlo Richard has planned, and then I’d want to barf. Mom is on her fourth perfect boyfriend in the last two years, and I’ve gone on one good date, tonight. “Really, I’m tired. You can tell me tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night, Laura. Sleep well.”

I walk to my bedroom, step over the basket of folded laundry in my doorway, and shut the door before bursting into tears. I’m a lonely thirty-two-year-old woman living with my midlife-crisis mother. I should stop wanting things I can’t have, but I don’t regret that dinner-that-became-a-date one bit.

My apartment in Seoul is quiet when I walk in, the door clicking silently into place behind me, my dress shoes tapping along the marble floor to the kitchen. Everything seems to be where I left it a few weeks ago except for the pile of mail on the kitchen island next to the cooktop and a bottle of wine missing from the wine rack. Next to the pile of mail is a note written in Cori’s slanted handwriting,
“I watered your plants too, have no fear. But the wine came home with me.”
A scribbling of Evie’s name resides right underneath. I pick up the note and slip it in the island drawer dedicated to every piece of art Evie has ever given me.

I didn’t sleep at all before my flight. I returned to the hotel after putting Laura in a cab, had a bourbon brought up by room service, and stared out the window until my alarm went off. She caught me off-guard, an unexpected treasure unearthed when I least expected it. I usually stay at the Plaza when I’m in New York, but this was a last minute trip, and they were booked solid, so I ended up at the Algonquin. If I hadn’t stayed there, I would never have met her. My instincts tell me I need to hold onto her somehow, but I’m terrible about following my instincts. I dissect a decision until the outcome is completely logical. The lawyer in me always wins. I can’t believe I’m willing to jump from one long-distance relationship to another, but Laura is vastly different from Sandra. I could love Laura. I could never love Sandra. I never even told her I love her, and we’ve been dating for years.

I slept almost the entire flight back to Seoul. I’m lucky enough to work for such a high-powered law firm that I fly first or business class everywhere. I got a Screwdriver when I boarded the plane, put on the eye mask, reclined back all the way and fell asleep for five hours straight. Traveling makes me sleepy. The white noise of airplanes puts me out like I’m some sort of infant. Thankfully I’m thirty-five and can still have a drink or two to get me through.

So I’m only mildly tired and hungover when my phone buzzes not five minutes after I arrive at home.

Cori Winslow

Are you back?

Lee Park

I am. Just now. Gonna shower and meet you guys for dinner. Where?

Cori Winslow

Evie wants pancakes.

Lee Park

I’ll meet you at Butterfingers in 45 minutes.

I’m starving, and pancakes, bacon, and coffee sound perfect as jet lag food. But before I set my phone down, I open up the Photo Library and look at Laura’s picture again. I didn’t imagine her. She’s real. I took her out to dinner and coffee, and before I put her in a cab home, I kissed her. I haven't been on a date like that in... Never.
 

A voice in my head said,
“Don't let this one get away,”
and when it’s that decisive, I have to listen. I grabbed control and erased all sense of vulnerability from either of us. Figuring out what to do next is harder. I swipe through my open apps to find the World Clock, which is the app I use the most, as stupid as that is. It’s only 5am back in New York. Laura is probably asleep. I wonder what she did with her Saturday while I was flying halfway around the world.

One hot shower, jeans, and a t-shirt later, I grab my coat and get my Mini Cooper Clubman from the garage downstairs. Butterfingers is in the same neighborhood where I live, Cheongdam-dong, but the car hasn’t been driven in a few weeks. I’m too tired to walk, so I’ll take the car out for a spin. I circle the block around the restaurant twice and find a small spot to maneuver my car into. The block is crowded with Mercedes and BMWs with a few Smart cars wedged into the tiniest spots available. Chris and Cori don’t own a car and the Clubman is just barely big enough for all of us. I’ve taken them to visit my family outside of Seoul and Busan several times. We can’t spend more than two hours in this tiny thing, though, so we don’t do road trips often.

“Lee,” Evie shouts as I enter the restaurant. Despite the fact that this place sells American breakfasts, the restaurant is busy at all times of the day. I stop inside the door until I spot her, standing up in a booth near the back, waving her arms at me.

“Sit down, Evie.” Cori pulls her daughter down next to her. Evie’s straight brown hair is in ten million different directions with no less than five pink hair clips holding it back from her face. She’s wearing pink from head to toe, an obvious sign she dressed herself this morning. I babysat overnight once for Cori and Chris so they could get away, and Evie dressed herself in pink for every moment.
 

“Hi guys.” I slip in next to Chris and shrug off my jacket, clasping hands with him. He’s a quiet guy, and when we’re out for drinks alone, we talk incessantly, but not if Cori’s around. She’s always been the louder and more ebullient of the two — night and day. She makes tons of friends wherever she goes, her no-nonsense attitude and common-sense style appealing to just about anyone.
 

Silence descends on the table, as I tuck my keys in my coat pocket, and, when I look up, they’re all staring at me. “What?”

“You are a completely different person, Lee,” Cori whispers, her eyes wide with shock. She puts her hand to her mouth and squints her blue eyes at me. “I’ve never seen you smile so much after such a long trip. You tend to be beat down and depressed.”

“Really? Well, I’m happy to be home this time.” I grab the menu and start to think hard about what I want. Maybe waffles.

“No, no. Wait.” Cori reaches across the table and pulls the menu down, examining me again. “That date went a lot better than you indicated. Did you…” She glances down at Evie who’s scribbling in a Hello Kitty coloring book. “You know…”

“No, I did not.” I did not sleep with Laura, though I wanted to.

“Did you kiss her?” Cori asks.

This has Evie’s attention. “Lee kissed
a girl?
”

“Girls, please leave Lee alone, for Christ’s sake.” Chris doesn’t even look up from his menu, the annoyance clear in his voice, but Cori rolls her eyes at him.

“Yes, I kissed a girl,” I tell Evie and she smiles at me. “And then I put her in a cab and sent her home,” I tell Cori.

“Have you spoken to her since?”

“No, I haven’t.” I pull my iPhone out of my pocket and set it on the table. No messages. “I thought about texting her, but it’s early in New York. Maybe before bed.”

“Tell me all about your date. Right now,” Cori directs.

We order food, and I fill her in on our dinner and coffee, how perfect the conversation was, how attracted I was to Laura (but I leave all the details G-rated for Evie), and how we ended things after our kiss.

“She said, ‘Don’t be a stranger, Lee.’ I think she’s up for something long distance, but I don’t know.” My plate is already empty, the waffles standing no chance against my jet lag and hangover. I gulp down an entire glass of water as Cori stares out the window and thinks.

“Are you up for it?” Chris asks. “Because a long-distance relationship with Sandra didn’t work out.”

“Yes, but Sandra’s a bitch,” Cori says, and Evie gasps.
 

“Mommy, you said that wasn’t a nice word.”

“You’re right. It’s not. I’m sorry.” Cori mouths, “Total bitch,” to me when Evie goes back to her almost full plate of pancakes. Evie barely eats (she’s so picky). Any meal with her takes forever as she fights over every bite of food that goes into her mouth.

“I’m not sure,” I say, stretching back in my seat. “It’s not like I know her at all except for the conversations we had. But I’m not finding the right woman in Seoul either. I’m almost never here. Unless I marry someone right away, any relationship is going to be long-distance.”

I shrug my shoulders, and Chris and Cori nod in time with each other. “Hazards of our business.” Chris rubs his almost bald head and removes his wire-rimmed glasses to massage his eyes. Chris is in the fortunate position of having met Cori and married her years ago, before moving to Seoul. But my situation is not unique amongst other men and women in our firm. We all travel and many of us are single. International law is a time-consuming business and hard on families. Cori and Evie miss Chris when he’s gone.