Face Time

by S. J. Pajonas

  “How is your mom?”

  I roll my eyes. “She’s fine. They’re going to some party at an art gallery together. Ridiculous.” I take a sip of wine. “So, Lee, I’m wondering if I can I tell you about my family and you won’t freak out?”

  “Depends,” he says. “Are they serial killers?”

  “No.” I laugh and nearly spit out my wine.

  “Do they raise chickens for cock fights?”

  “Not likely.” I imagine my buttoned-up mother at a cock fight and laugh.

  “Then I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Okay. I take a deep breath and start at the beginning.

  “I had a brother, David. He was older than me by three years. My best friend.” My voice cracks, and I stop for a moment. “Sorry, this is still not easy, even thirteen years later.”

  “It’s okay,” Lee says. “Take your time.”

  “I was in my junior year at NYU, and he had already graduated from Columbia. He wanted to go to USC for grad school so he flew to LA and decided to visit friends before finding a place to live. He was driving on the highway, and his tire blew out. The car swerved and got crushed by truck.”

  “Oh god, Laura. I’m so sorry.”

  I nod at him, swallowing to keep the tears back. “His body had to be flown home. My mother was so distraught she couldn’t get on the plane to go get him, so my dad went alone, and I stayed behind with her. She was never the same again. Neither was I.”

  I gulp my wine and refill the glass. “I barely graduated. The professors were kind to me and most of them passed me, though I didn’t deserve it. But that’s why I traveled so much right after school. I just had to get away. My mom was so sad and critical of everything I did, and my dad was angry, all the time. He was an asshole before David died and ten times worse after. He ignored me, for most of my life, and then when David died, he became nasty.” I shake my head and sigh. “He always had this drive to succeed and make money, but he gave it up and found religion. I think he wanted to make sense of David’s death, but I can’t really know now. He died of a heart attack a little over three years ago.”

  Lee is watching me, staying silent. I was going to keep things light and easy, and now look at what I’ve done.

  “So, I told you my aunt died in 2003, and I came back to the states?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That didn’t do anything for my parents’ relationship. And I was… not in a great place either. So once I was back in the states, I went south and did Habitat for Humanity until my mom suffered a nervous breakdown. My father told me to come home and help take care of her, and I couldn’t refuse because I didn’t have much of a life in New Orleans. I’ve been here ever since. Five years now. Once my father died, my mom… It was like she saw the light or something. She realized what an asshole my father was and with him gone she could live her life in any way she wanted. There are days when she treats me more like an annoying roommate than a daughter.”

  “I see,” says Lee, running his hand through his messy hair and blowing out a deep breath. “This is why you’ve been in New York and haven’t traveled.”

  “Yeah. At first, I stayed to make sure my mom was okay, and now I stay because I need to save my money. I can’t afford to move out and live alone in this city on my salary.”

  “I understand,” he says, leaning into the iPad on his end. “I’m sorry about your brother, Laura. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost a family member like that.”

  “I… Thanks.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  Biting my lip, I debate my answer but, ultimately, I want to be honest with him. “I was going to say that I wish you were here so we could hug.”

  “God, me too, Laura. I’d love to hug you right now.”

  These are moments I live for. I wonder how things would be between us if he were here in New York or I was in Seoul. I only hope FaceTime is enough to feel like we’re in person, like real face time.

  “I’m having a little trouble coming to grips with the fact that you’re seven thousand miles away, Lee, and we’re having dates.”

  He turns his head away from the iPad towards the window. “You know, I still feel close to you when we text or FaceTime. I’m trying to think of seven thousand as just a number. Is that a sappy thing to say?”

  “No. No, you’re right.”

  “But maybe, after tonight, I don’t want to go as long between FaceTime dates.” He turns back to me and a smile is lighting up his whole face.

  “Okay,” I say, smiling back.

  “Now… Did you tell your aunt about me?”

  Chapter

  Ten

  =

  Lee

  Laura laughs on her end of the call, and I relax. It’s hard to see her sad. The night we met and during our first date, she was so bright and happy, sarcastic and funny. It was a good first impression. Now, I’m beginning to understand the depths of her personality. She’s been through hell and can still smile. She cares about her family even though her mother is a bit crazy and her father treated her poorly. We’re on our third date, and I want ten more. A hundred.

  “I was forced to tell my mom and aunt about you. My Aunt Sally has a ridiculous sense for these things. She can take one look at a person and know everything about them. But I kept the details to a minimum. I told them you live in Seoul, though. It’s a problem for them.”

  “Yes, I can imagine. But is it a problem for you, Laura?”

  “Lee. I swear to God. We’re on the third date now and the sexual tension is miles high.”

  I burst into a laugh and her neck reddens. “It is indeed. Let’s change the subject…”

  “Oh,” she squeaks, jumping forward and knocking the iPad off her lap for a moment before righting my view. “Lee, I had an idea, and I hope you don’t think it’s weird or anything.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to join the Korea Society here in the city and take Korean language classes…”

  Wow. She’s more into me than she’s let on.

  “They have lots of cool events, films, plays, and…” She leans in, her eyes wide. “Cooking classes.” She claps her hands and grins, reminding me of Evie when she scores a toy she’s been talking about for weeks. “I could learn to make kimchi and bibimbap and pickles and, yeah, lots of food.” Her eyes glaze over, and I’m sure she’s imagining herself in the kitchen cooking up full-course Korean meals, enough to feed a huge family. “My cooking would never be as good as an actual Korean mom or anything, but I love an opportunity to learn. When I was in Thailand, I took a Thai cooking class, and I often make curries for Theresa and Mike or my mom or whomever else comes by. I love it.”

  “Sounds like a lot of fun,” I begin, but how do I tell her this isn’t necessary to our relationship or anything? “Are you sure you want to take Korean language? You don’t have to, you know.”

  Maybe she thinks she’ll need this if we continue on?

  “I know. I’ve always wanted to learn more foreign languages, but I was never sure about which one. I thought maybe I could practice with you? I don’t know. I’ll take the first class and see what happens. I think I’ll have a blast, though.”

  “Okay, well, sure you can practice with me, if you like. But you don’t have to change or be different for me. I like you the way you are.”

  She pours herself a glass of wine. “Lee, I’m not doing it for you, but you reminded me how much I love the East. I’ve been here in New York trapped for some time now. I want to do something different. And it’ll be even more fun if I can share them with you.”

  I nod my head at her. She seems genuinely interested in Korean culture, and, with all her travel in Asia, I get why she’d be spurred into this. If anything, it sounds like classes and studying will keep her busy and not dating other men.

  And there it is. I am already trying to make a claim on her. Where does that even come from? Once I find a woman I like, I circle my wagons around her and fight off other me
n to the death, and I hate when she won’t let me. It was a major issue with Sandra and me. She didn’t want to be exclusive, and I could have been fine with that if she hadn’t always pushed the fact she was with other men in my face… And she flipped out every time I tried to date someone else. It was maddening.

  “Lee? What’s going on in your head? Is this too weird? I’m sorry…”

  “No. No, I was thinking about something else. It’s not weird. I love the idea. You should definitely do it. I bet you’ll enjoy it. Next time I see you, I’ll want you to cook for me.”

  “Okay.” She lets out a huge breath. “I’d be happy to cook for you.”

  I should stop pulling into my head and comparing Laura to Sandra. They are both two entirely different women, complete opposites.

  “Laura, show me your apartment. Give me a tour.”

  “Sure.” She sets down her wine glass and gets up from the couch with the iPad in her hands. “Let me use the other camera.” The view flips around, and her living room is before me instead of her face. “This is the only common room in the apartment, besides the bathroom and kitchen. The furniture was my father’s since I traveled almost all of my twenties. I came back to the city with little in the way of possessions.” A big screen TV sits on a low IKEA bookshelf crammed with used novels. Along either side of the TV are knickknacks that I guess are from Laura’s travels: a fan, a metal dragon, a Buddha. Next to the Buddha is an incense burner and a red and black lacquer box. She swings the iPad around the room. The walls are pretty bare but painted a dark gray that’s very contemporary. Along the area over the couch is a line of framed photographs.

  “Can I see the photos?”

  “Of course.” She leans in and shows me a collection of six in one frame. “This was my trip to Thailand and the Philippines.” Laura is obviously a gifted photographer, skilled with depth of field and arrangement. I can identify the large golden reclining Buddha in Bangkok, monks crossing a busy street in a flurry of orange robes, a jasmine flower, a beach, the wall in Chiang Mai, and bells in a temple.

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “And this was my time in the South building houses.” This collection is less exotic but precious all the same. The photos here concentrate on the houses she worked on, the French Quarter in New Orleans, the bayou and Mississippi River. “I miss that work. I was always outside or learning something new.”

  “How did you make money while you were down there?”

  “I waited tables mostly, and friends of friends let me stay with them. I had a small trust fund I lived on in Asia, but it was gone by the time I returned. Anyway, I made enough to barely get by. That’s all the matters. I’m still alive.”

  Still alive? Damn, she says the most peculiar things, and I want to pry and ask question after question, but instead… “Looks like you had an amazing time.”

  “I did.” She moves the iPad out of the living room to the kitchen. “And here’s the kitchen again. It was all remodeled before I moved in. I’m glad to have a dishwasher. Not many places in the city do.” The kitchen is modern with dark wood cabinets, black countertops and stainless steel appliances. She tilts the camera so I can see the hardwood floors, even in the kitchen, and a black and white rug in front of the sink.

  “Mom’s bedroom is right off the kitchen. I won’t show it to you.” She bypasses a door and opens the second one in the hall. “This is the bathroom. Also remodeled before I moved in.” Stone tiled floors and a white pedestal vanity and tub. The collection of hair dryers and straightening irons takes up most of the wall space and the bags lining the shelves are probably stocked with makeup.

  “Then my room which you’ve seen some of. I picked my clothes up off the floor this morning. You’re a lucky man.” Her room is more chaotic than the rest of the place. The long, coffee-stained wood dresser is over-flowing with scarves, stacks of folded clothes, photos in frames, and jewelry. “Oh, let me show you David.” She moves to her bedside and picks up a framed photo of a striking young man in his twenties, wild blond hair, a summer tan, his hands in his khaki shorts, smiling at the camera. “I took this at our summer family picnic. God, I miss him.” She and her deceased brother are a lot alike. Laura shares the same nose and smile, but it’s sad there’s a brother who meant so much to her who I will never meet.

  “I see a pretty strong family resemblance,” I say as she places the photo back on her bedside. Next to her bedside lamp is a stack of books, mostly fiction. I recognize some of the titles. “What do you like to read?”

  “Anything as long as it’s fiction. I only read non-fiction if the subject really interests me, and I mean really. I check what my friends are reading via Goodreads and queue up anything that sounds good. I have one friend in a zombie and vampire phase, though.” The disdain is clear even though I can’t see her face. “Not my cup of tea, but I’ll happily do science fiction or fantasy.”

  “I like spy novels and mystery. I’m in a Robert Ludlum phase right now. His books are readily available at the bookstores here.”

  “Well, you can’t go wrong with Jason Bourne. He’s pretty damned kick ass.”

  “He is.”

  Laura turns the camera around and sits down on her bed. “Okay, your turn. Show me your place.”

  “All right. But, be warned, there’s not much here.”

  I flip to the other camera, get off the couch and turn around. “It’s a loft type apartment which is typical of these high rises in Seoul. The kitchen and living area all share the same space.” My apartment is all white, white, white, with dark wood and marble floors, and the furniture is either black or glass. “None of the furniture belongs to me. The place came furnished.”

  “So did mine, except for my bed. Your kitchen is so white. And the whole apartment is so bright.”

  I swing the camera to the floor-to-ceiling windows and my view.

  “Wow, but you have an amazing view. What’s that of?” she asks, her face close to the iPad.

  “The Han River and the northern part of the city. This area I live in, south of the river, was built up after the Olympics were held here. I live in sort of a fancy part of town.”

  “How fancy?”

  “I think they call it the Rodeo Drive of Seoul, honestly. All the big designers have stores here. It’s a little rich for my taste, but I’m not the only lawyer in my firm who lives here. Chris and Cori live a few floors down. There’s someone to water my plants while I’m gone.” I tilt the iPad down at my plants bunched up around the edge of each window. This is the only redeemable part of my apartment. I can grow things and not have them die on me because I get so much light.

  “You have a green thumb, Lee. Wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I have many talents.”

  “I bet you do.”

  I’m glad she can’t see my face right now because, when she says things like that, the blood in my body rushes straight to my dick, and I can’t control it at all.

  “My kitchen…” I move past the table and adjust my pajama pants along the way. “Also does not have much in it, but I did stock up my fridge this week.” I open the door up and show her everything I purchased but compared to her refrigerator, it’s barren. I’m starting to feel ambivalent about this tour. My desolate apartment gives me an air of “bachelor college student,” not a high-powered, highly paid lawyer.

  “I hope you go out to eat a lot.” She tilts her head to the side and purses her lips. “Because you don’t look like you’re wasting away, but your fridge says otherwise.”

  “I do. It’s easier.”

  I show her the bathroom which is a lot like hers except bigger and with less products along the wide stone vanity, and, in the bedroom is just my bed, a dresser, and the closet.

  “Wait. Go back,” Laura directs, and I pan back along my bed past the window. “Stop. Walk closer to the mirror.” A huge mirror lines one wall in my bedroom, and standing here, Laura can see everything. It’s possible she can’t see the hard-on she just gave
me through these pajama pants, but…

  “Just stand there, Lee, and let me get a good look at you.”

  I roll my eyes at her in the mirror but obey. I wonder what she sees. I see an average Korean guy who works out and does nothing with his hair. I’m better with clothes and more stylish than I used to be. I don’t buy the cheap t-shirts and underwear anymore. I spend the money on the nicer things. Even my pajama pants are upscale. This is another thing I have in common with Laura, we both like a good wardrobe. But otherwise, I’m average.

  “Take a picture, Laura. It’ll last longer.”

  “Okay.” From the position of her hands on the iPad, I can tell she’s taking a screenshot. “Fair warning, I’m going to do that a lot.”

  I flip back to the front-facing camera and smile at her. “Fine by me.”

  “Well, Lee. It certainly is a big and beautiful apartment…” She hesitates and chews on the side of her lip. “But…”

  “Go ahead and say it, Laura.” I’ve already heard this a million times from Cori every time she comes over, so I sit myself on my bed, pushing back against the pillows.

  “Lee, you’re a charming and sweet guy, and I can tell you have good taste. Why does your apartment feel so empty?”

  “Because it is, Laura. I travel so much that I get back here and don’t know where to start. I have some things in the storage area but never bring them up, and really? I don’t feel like they fit in here. I often don’t feel like this is home.”

  “Hmmm…” She taps on her mouth and scans her own room. “What about bringing items home from your travels and then placing them around your apartment? You saw my apartment. Half the stuff I own is from traveling. I don’t own much, but I have something. I would buy things and ship them to my mother. She held onto everything for me until I came home.”

  “I don’t know. I rarely have time to shop when I’m traveling.”

  “Where are you off to next?” she asks, before taking a sip of wine.