Quarantine Romance: Multicultural Romance During a Pandemic

by L. P. Guleva

  “I still think you don’t need makeup.”

  “Too bad. Where are we going?”

  Matt got more comfortable on his couch. “Let’s narrow it down. What do you want to see? Art, history, maybe something else?”

  “Art.” What was the point of going to a museum with an artist if we weren’t going to an art museum?

  “Something local, or do you wanna travel the world?”

  “Travel the world. I can always see something local when this lockdown is over.”

  Matt searched for something on his laptop. His every move stretched his shirt over his chest and shoulders. No man had the right to look this good while sitting casually in his own apartment.

  “We might as well go to Venice.” Matt leaned forward and sent me a link to the website. “Go to the alphabetized list and find Palazzo Fortuny.

  I did as he said and stepped into a beautiful room filled with classical art. And a sink. “Is that really a sink in the corner?”

  “Hey, that’s art too. You know, in the eye of the beholder and all that.” Matt’s eyes shone with humor.

  I tried to back away from the sink, but instead clicked number three and ended up outside. “Oh, no. I don’t know what happened, but I’m on some wooden balcony now. I’ll try to go back.” I clicked number one this time. It didn’t take me back.

  “No luck?” Matt asked.

  “Well, I got back inside, but I’m in a different place now. There’s a giant redwood wall blocking most of my view.” I clicked on the arrow and returned to the sink. “I found my way back. This is a lot more confusing than going on foot.”

  “Yeah, but if you get lost, you won’t get stranded in another country.” Matt put his phone down and concentrated on his laptop. “Let’s look at the actual art. We can start with that couple hugging and then move left.”

  I followed his directions. It was a lot easier now that I got the hang of it. “Are you on the one where someone is hanging from the top, and a woman is lifting a cup?”

  “Yeah. What do you think?”

  “It’s nice.” I could appreciate some parts of it.

  “You hate it. You’re allowed not to like something.”

  “I don’t hate it.” Why did we have to use a video call? I didn’t want him to think I was an idiot who couldn’t understand art. “The woman hanging down has a masculine face and backside, but she has boobs.”

  Matt inspected the image, his face void of his usual humor. “The color of the eyebrows is too dark for a blond. They look too bushy just because of the color choice. The back is definitely more muscular than what you’d expect from a woman. The curve of the spine makes me think of a fighter. They usually hold their head low not to get punched. Plus, it’s contrasted with the other woman on the painting who has a lot more softness to her.”

  “You figured it out that easily?” I clicked on the compass to move to the next painting.

  “That’s how I learn. I have to be able to see where the problem is so I can avoid making the same mistake.”

  “I like the way the architecture is painted.” It looked real, like I could touch it or even sit on the ledge next to the subjects of the artwork.

  “Do you see those round ones at the top? There’s one next to them in the corner that I want to see. I like the pose.”

  I followed Matt’s lead to the painting of a woman surrounded by flowers. “I like this one better, but I don’t know why. It’s not as detailed as the one before.”

  “It’s more dynamic,” Matt said. “You can practically feel her mood.”

  I leaned forward to inspect the details. There really was so much more there. “I can see what you mean about experiencing things through someone. I wouldn’t have noticed the same things without you.”

  “It’s gonna be a long few weeks. We’ll have time to see a lot of things together.” Matt gave me one of his bright smiles. “I can’t get into the next room. Do you remember what you did to get to the balcony?”

  “I clicked on three in the right bottom corner.”

  “Oh.” Matt’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “That’s a good view.”

  I followed him and moved the image closer to the edge of the balcony until rooftops filled the screen. “That’s a lot of clay tiles.”

  “It’s like looking into another century. I wish we could go there in person.”

  I nodded in agreement, imagining what it would be like to stand on that balcony with Matt’s arm on my waist as we took in the scenery.

  This wasn’t a real date.

  “Do you want to walk through another gallery?” I asked in hopes of shaking myself out of this stupid mood.

  “Sure. Can you show me something from your country?”

  “Of course.” I went to the map and found Uzbekistan, but they didn’t have a single museum or gallery captured. “Or not. There’s nothing.”

  “That sucks. Can we do a street view of your city? I wanna know where you grew up.”

  Definitely not. “No one bothered to capture it. There’s a satellite view, but you can’t see much on it.”

  Matt stayed quiet for a second, looking at me. “Alright. I’m hungry. Wanna grab something to eat?”

  “We can’t. All of the restaurants are closed, remember?”

  “We don’t have to go out to eat. We can cook something together through the video call. What were you planning on having today?”

  “Egg noodles.” I had everything ready for it.

  “There you go. I have some ramen.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I’m leaving it for the more desperate times. I made egg noodles, and I have some chicken and vegetables.”

  “Can I see?”

  I picked up my phone and walked to the tiny kitchen. Rolled out dough waited for me to cut it. Vegetables were diced, and the chicken was cut into bite-size pieces. “It’s a fairly simple dish.”

  “Simple my ass. Are you seriously making noodles from scratch?”

  “It tastes better this way.” I put water to boil, then started frying onions and meat.

  “I don’t wanna eat ramen anymore. Mind if I stop by?”

  I smiled at the phone. “We’re supposed to keep a distance, remember?”

  “I do, but you’re making that.” He waved his hand at the camera. “And it’s making me hungry.”

  “It’s called laghman and it’s easy to make. You should try it.”

  “I can make ramen and mac n’ cheese from the box. That’s as far as my cooking skills go.”

  “This quarantine is going to be tough on you.” I added the rest of the vegetables and left it all to cook. “I wish there was some way to send it to you, but I guess you’ll have to learn how to cook.”

  Matt smirked at me. “I got a lot of free time lately. Why don’t you teach me?”

  “If you give me a list of what you have, I can figure something out.”

  “I have eggs, canned soup, and…” He lifted a packet of noodles. “I don’t think you can figure anything out with that. Why don’t you give me a list and I’ll see what I can find?”

  Meat, flour, potatoes, onions…“You won’t find much in Brooklyn.”

  “I could go to Long Island. They have a lower population density. They’re more likely to have everything.”

  I nodded in agreement and started typing up a list of vegetables. Most of the dishes could use any type of meat. If he couldn’t find one, I’d substitute. “Do you have spices?”

  “No. I never had to use them.”

  I glanced at my windowsill with five pots of herbs. They wouldn’t keep in the fridge for long if he had to buy them. He’d have to deal with dried varieties instead, even if they didn’t produce as good of a result. “Alright. This should cover a lot of different dishes. See what you can find, and then I’ll figure out what we can make from it.”

  “Thank you, gorgeous. I’ll let you know when I finish all the shopping.”

  Chapter 4

  Matt

 
SHOPPING COULD’VE WAITED A COUPLE more weeks. I had enough food, all of it neatly packaged, only needing water and a microwave, but I needed to get out of my tiny apartment, and I had an excuse. Just this once, then I’d calm down and figure out how to spend weeks, if not months, in isolation.

  I walked to the parking lot attached to my building, hoping I wouldn’t run into my ex, whose spot was five cars down. If wishes were horses, and all that.

  “Matt, how are you?” Lauren gave me the widest, fakest smile as she speed-walked towards me.

  “Awful, now that you’re here.” I put my hand up before she got any closer. “Six feet.”

  “Oh, come on, you know I don’t have anything. I’m always careful.” She kept walking.

  I stepped away from her grabby hands. “Right, I remember how careful you were. You don’t have to touch your own face to get coronavirus. You can get it from someone’s dick touching your face.”

  “That was one time, and I’ve already told you, it was an accident.” She reached for me again.

  “Sure, it was. You accidentally slipped and fell with your mouth open, and accidentally his dick was out.” I sidestepped her again and edged closer to my car.

  “I told you, I wanted an open relationship. I thought you were okay with it.” Like a damn zombie out for fresh brains, Lauren kept following me.

  “What part of ‘hell no, I don’t want an open relationship’ made you think I was okay with it?” A little more and I could get to my car.

  “What man doesn’t want an open relationship?” She lunged for me.

  I sprinted to my car, hopped in and slammed the door shut. Lauren howled in pain. The damn maniac had managed to get her fingers trapped. I inched the door open and as soon as she freed her hand, closed it and locked myself in. Why had I ever thought it was a good idea to date her?

  I cracked the window open. “Step away from my car before I call the cops on you for trying to infect me on purpose.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.” She clutched her hand to her chest and pouted. “You broke my hand.”

  “Go to the hospital.” Preferably a psychiatric one. Should I call her an ambulance?

  “I can’t drive with my hand like this.” She wiggled her fingers for me to see. A red line ran across. “You should give me a ride.”

  There was no way in hell I would let her get that close to me. “You can pout and move your hand. It’s not broken, but if you don’t get out of my way I’ll run over your feet.” Screw her.

  “You wouldn’t do that. You love me.”

  Right. I started the car and inched it back until Lauren got out of the way. And stumped like a toddler. I should’ve listened to my dad when he had told me not to stick my dick in crazy.

  I clicked the remote key to open the gate and drove out of the parking lot. The hour-long journey threatened to be miserable if I didn’t find a distraction. I pulled out the Bluetooth, then found the right name in my contact list. Lauren had left a bad taste in my mouth and I needed a palate cleanser.

  “Hi, Matt. Have you already finished shopping?” The cheery, heavily accented voice erased the last few minutes.

  “No, gorgeous, I’m just leaving my place. I wanted to see if you needed anything. I don’t remember you buying much last time.”

  “There wasn’t much to buy, but I’m good. I was shopping because I needed toilet paper and I decided to buy some food too.” Zamira paused for a long second. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, why?” I glanced out the window as I circled the parking lot. Lauren had left.

  “You sound a little tense. I was beginning to think you’re always happy.”

  “Just worried about my parents,” I lied. “They’re both in their sixties and aren’t super healthy. Luckily, they live in Nassau County, but there’re already five thousand cases in their area.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic. If they’re careful, they might not get sick at all, and even if they do, age isn’t everything.” Zamira’s voice came out subdued.

  “I’m hoping for the best. What about your family? Are they safe?”

  “I hope so. Uzbekistan is close to China, and we always had a lot of trade with them, plus my city is close to the border with Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Right now, very few cases have been reported, but I don’t know how much testing is happening. Hopefully, it’ll be alright.”

  “They’re good on supplies?”

  “Yes. They grow most of their own food. They don’t need to leave the house.”

  Unlike my dumb ass, who couldn’t stay still for more than a day. “I’m getting cabin fever staying home all the time. I don’t know how people do this.”

  “I’ve been reading a lot of classical literature that’s been translated to multiple languages. This way I can compare a few different versions.”

  “What are you reading now?” My hands relaxed on the steering wheel. My shoulders loosened.

  “Master and Margarita. It’s a comedy about the USSR.”

  “Wanna read it together? I mean, you’ll read in your place, I’ll read it in my place and then we can share notes.” It sounded boring, even to me, but some people liked book clubs. Maybe I was missing something.

  “Sure. You’re at a disadvantage, though. I read it in Russian back in high school. Now I’m reading it in English to compare it to Russian.”

  The eerily empty road stretched ahead of me. Brooklyn had turned into a ghost town in a matter of days.

  “Are you okay?” Zamira asked.

  “Yeah. It’s strange to see Brooklyn this way. There’re practically no cars around. I’ve seen four people on the streets so far and they clearly didn’t care about social distancing.”

  “You said you grew up in New York?”

  “Yeah, on Long Island. It’s quieter there, but I’ve been living in Brooklyn for a couple of years now. It was always loud, overcrowded, and dirty. Now it’s turned upside down.” Belt Parkway opened wide to support the nonexistent traffic.

  “I hope it won’t last. They have to make a vaccine soon.”

  “You’re optimistic. You know how many people refuse to get basic vaccines?”

  “But the majority will. After that, at least everything can reopen.”

  Would be nice. “What’s the first place you’ll go when the lockdown is over?”

  “College.” Zamira’s voice had a hint of a smile.

  “Just college? Come on, what do you do for fun?”

  “I work and study. Sometimes I read, if I have time. What about you?”

  “Art shows. Most of them have everything I need for entertainment. You’d think art shows are for snobs with glasses of wine, but it’s usually a big party with live music and food.”

  “So, nothing like what we did yesterday? You can’t walk quietly through a gallery and look at paintings?”

  “I mean, you can do that too, but on regular days, or in larger places. There’s a little bit of everything out there. Snobs can still have their red wine. Maybe I can show you around when this lockdown is over.” Why did I say that? I was leading her on, knowing I didn’t want to date anyone.

  “Maybe,” she echoed.

  “Anyhow, what are we cooking today?”

  “Depends on what you’ll buy.”

  Right. Empty streets and empty stores.

  Chapter 5

  Zamira

  I OPENED THE MAILBOX AND took out the long letter from the landlord. At the very top, in all caps, it read, “DO NOT THROW SHREDDED TEES INTO THE TOILET. STOP CLOGGING THE SEWER PIPES.” They must’ve sent this to everyone.

  After the most important message to the tenants, it informed me that they would appreciate rent being paid on time, but won’t evict anyone if it’s not. At least there was that. Not that I wouldn’t have to pay it afterward. Without the job, I would be up to my ears in debt by the time the lockdown was over.

  The elevator groaned as it brought me to my floor. I sorted through the rest of the mail as I walked into my tiny kitchen.
Bills. Bills. Bills. More bills. How was I supposed to pay all these?

  I took a deep breath. Panicking wouldn't solve anything. Besides, I had to check up on my sister. No point bringing my stress to her door.

  I dilead the number and listened to the ringing of my phone, remembering all those months after Gulya had disappeared. Much as we had tried to patch things up, things just weren't the same. It wasn't her fault, but it stung to be left behind for the second time.

  When I had been growing up, I thought my big sister would always be with me. Then she went to Japan, but it was a temporary thing. Of course, she came back only to disappear completely. I hadn't known if she was even alive.

  "Hi, Zamira. I'm so glad you called."

  I smiled at her enthusiasm. "Of course I called. I want to know how my nephews are doing."

  "I don't know which one of them it is, but I think they're trying to break my ribs. Those kicks are vicious."

  "But it means they are strong and healthy."

  Gulya hummed in agreement. "They better be. I cut almost all sugar out, except the occasional slice of cake. And Ed is making me eat every fruit imaginable."

  "That's good though. I wouldn't mind a good melon right now." Come to think of it, I hadn't seen good melons sold in the States. "Do they even have them here?"

  "No. They just have handalyaks."

  I wrinkled my nose. Yeah, I had seen those. "I think they call them cantaloupes here."

  The huffing and grunting came from the other end of the line, then a scraping of a chair. Then something wet splashing.

  "Great. I wasn't even holding it and I still managed to drop the stupid thing."

  "Are you alright?" I asked.

  "I'm great. That cake looks better on the floor anyway, especially with the milk on top. This pregnancy made me clumsy and dumb."

  "I'll believe it when I see it."

  Gulya grew quiet. Two seconds ticked by. "Maybe you should come to Florida. You can stay with me and Ed until this whole thing is over."

  I sighed, wishing I could take her up on the offer, but I already had asked for too much. The collage. The first couple of months rent for my apartment. Even some of my clothes came from Gulya.