Tae
Tae hated confrontation. It was probably why he was stuck in this limbo in his life. He could make the tough decisions if he had to. He just didn’t want to have to disappoint people with his choices.
And thus, sitting on his sofa, staring at his phone screen at Kari in tears, Tae’s stomach was in knots. They’d been broken up for months, but because Tae had put off having the kind of closure conversation Kari seemed to need, she couldn’t let it go. She couldn’t let him go. And it was hurting her.
He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worth the tears.
“Kari, don’t cry, please,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Tae,” Kari said. “I just wish this wasn’t so hard.”
“Me too. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my life and the choices I’ve had to make have made this hard on you. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. I swear.”
She let out a sob, and much to Tae’s surprise, tears welled up in his eyes as well. Knowing that he’d hurt a person he cared about felt like shit. But he didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d never really been hers to lose. That the Tae Kim who lived and worked in Chicago, the one she’d been dating, was a shell of hisreal self. That he was just going through the motions fueled by societal pressures on what he thought he needed to be.
“I know we weren’t together that long, but for some reason, I just... really wanted this to work,” Kari said through her tears.
“I know, Kari. I’m sorry. But we’re so different, and our lives are going in opposite directions. I don’t think it’s fair to either of us to try and hold on to something that wasn’t working.” God, he hoped this didn’t sound like some practiced bullshit, because it was all actually what Tae was feeling.
“So you’re staying in Irvine for sure? You’ve decided,” she asked. Her shoulders slumped as if it had been the final blow.
Thing was, Tae hadn’t officially decided. He knew what he wanted. He just didn’t know if it was a choice he could make. It was one thing to say he’d be happy, but another to actually have to live a life without a steady paycheck, without full privacy and independence. But he wouldn’t tell Kari about his doubts.
“Yeah, I’m staying,” he said.
She sobbed harder.
He hoped she could accept this now and move on. Probably wasn’t good timing to let her know that based on his track record, she’d likely be marrying the next man she dated. But he took heart that maybe it could happen.
Tae was tempted to stay in bed the rest of the day and feel sorry for himself. He’d ruined a relationship and broken a girl’s heart. It was a pretty shitty day.
Dark. Life felt dark. If he closed his eyes for a little bit here in bed... just for a minute...
But he promised his mother he’d carry some boxes of cabbage and cucumbers over to the Songs’ house for their monthly kimchi-making day. So Tae forced himself up, forced himself to put his shoes on, and forced himself to head upstairs and help.
It took him three trips between their houses, and each timehe entered the backyard, he marveled at the ladies crouched down in the infamous kimchi squat, rubber gloves on, hunched over large plastic basins filled with vegetables and spicy red chili powder. It looked like hard labor, kimchi-making, but he had to admit, he was very thankful that they did it so he could eat it all.
“This is the last box, Umma. Do you need anything else?” Tae asked.
“No, but Tae, if you’re not busy, why don’t you sit and make kimchi with us. You will be the first man in the neighborhood to know how to do this. What an honor,” she said jokingly. Mrs. Song and Grandma Song both laughed along with her.
Tae wasn’t sure if she was serious or not, but he actually was interested in learning how to make kimchi. Some good old-fashioned manual labor with his hands could be just what he needed right now as a distraction. “Okay, I’d love to.”
“Whaa, our Tae really is a special man,” Mrs. Song said.
Grandma Song grunted in what Tae hoped was agreement.
After only twenty minutes of hunching over, stuffing and coating cabbage leaves with peppers, Tae’s back was killing him, his hands were tired, and his eyes burned. At this rate he’d never keep up with the ajummas.
A phone rang from inside the house.
“Tae, can you please run and get my cell phone from the kitchen counter and bring it out here? Just answer it on Speaker. I don’t want to take my gloves off,” Mrs. Song said. Tae wasn’t going to point out that he, too, was wearing gloves. He was just thankful for the reprieve.
He pulled his gloves off and ran in to get the phone, swiping to answer it. He tapped the Speaker button and held it up toward Mrs. Song’s ear.
“Julia, I spoke to Michael’s umma, and she said that Michael said that the date went really well. Did you like him? Are you going to see him again?”
Forget the greetings, Mrs. Song got straight to the point.
