The Blue Line (17 page)

THE YOUNG KOREAN

Boreal Summer

2006

H
e saw her come in wearing her gym clothes, a towel around her neck. She glanced at her watch and walked over to the exercise machines. Theo pretended to be tying his shoelaces so he could observe her at his leisure.

He had seen her once before at the company's annual staff conference. A young Asian version of Julia, he'd thought. Theo had taken advantage of a break in the program to stand behind her in the drinks line and then offer to pour her a cup of coffee. They'd exchanged a few words before she went back to her seat. He now knew that her name was Mia Moon and that she had recently joined the accounting department.

The young woman tossed her towel into a corner, hopped on one of the few empty treadmills, adjusted the settings, and began her workout. She was wearing a black crop top that
showed off her toned stomach and a pair of matching capri leggings. Her black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, accentuated her athletic appearance. Theo, who was busy lifting weights, couldn't take his eyes off her.

She got off the treadmill in a sweat and passed him on her way to the water fountain. Theo seized the opportunity to do the same. He acted surprised to see her as he said hello.

“I saw you when I came in, but you looked busy,” she said jokingly. “I've forgotten your name. It's Tom, right?”

“Almost. It's Theo. Theodoro, really. But Theo's easier,” he said before downing a plastic cup of cold water.

“Oh, right. I remember now. You're Italian.”

“No. Despite the name and the accent, I'm actually American.”

“Yes, of course. I meant to say of Italian origin.”

“No, wrong again. And I bet you that you won't be able to guess where I'm actually from.”

“Aha! I like bets. But I should warn you there's a strong chance it'll end in a tie. You'll never guess where I'm from.”

“With a name like yours?”

“You remember my name?”

“Mia Moon. Hard to forget such a pretty name.”

“Good memory—one point for you.”

“And I don't think I'd be too far off the mark if I said you were of Korean origin.”

“That's what everyone thinks.”

“Does that mean yes? If I've won, let me buy you a drink.”

“You've lost.”

Theo made a gesture of disappointment.

“But you can still buy me a cup of coffee after work,” the young woman added, picking up her towel to leave.

They met at the end of the day in the parking lot and drove out of the office complex one behind the other. There was a pub near the train station that Theo liked. It was always packed, but hardly anyone from the office went there. They sat down at a small table that had just become free, wedged in between the restrooms and the bar.

“You're even prettier than you were this morning,” Theo said, pulling his chair closer to hers.

“I'm married,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Theo burst out laughing. “That doesn't change anything. You're still beautiful!”

“What about you?”

“Are you asking if I'm beautiful?”

“No, if you're married.”

“I see you're really applying the recommendations made at the annual conference.”

“What do you mean?”

“The speaker said that it was important to know how to ask the right questions.”

“He also said you have to know how to listen. So. I'm listening.”

“Okay, but first we have to resolve our little bet.”

“It's over. You lost,” Mia replied, laughing.

“I'd say we're equal. I'm not Italian, and you're not Korean. Give me a hint.”

Her husband was of Korean descent, but he had never set foot in Korea and he didn't speak the language. He and Mia considered themselves American. They had met in college, while she was studying accounting and he was getting a master's in finance. Now he worked for an investment bank.

“All right, so he's Korean, but you're the one I'm interested in. And I'm still none the wiser.”

“You haven't told me much about yourself either. You're not Italian, but surely you're of European descent.”

“I'll give you that. Not that it'll help you.”

“Oh, okay. Is it really that complicated?”

“Not really. I'm from a country that experienced massive European immigration.”

“In that case, shall we say . . . Argentina?”

Theo looked at her with admiration. “Wow, I'm impressed.”

She opened her eyes wide and leaned toward him, resting on her elbows.

“Don't tell me you're Argentine.”

“I am indeed. I was born in Argentina.”

“But that's impossible,” Mia said, crossing her hands over her chest. “It's too much of a coincidence.”

“A coincidence? What do you mean?”

“My maiden name is Mia Matamoros Amun.”

“Matamoros Amun . . . Amun? That's an indigenous name, isn't it?”

“Yes. My mother was Mapuche.”

“So you're Argentine on your mother's side!”

“Yes, and Spanish on my father's side.”

Mia's cell phone started to ring.

“Oh, my goodness, it's really late. Where did the time go? I have to get home.”

Mia stood up, picked up her bag, gave him a little wave, and left.

—

The gym became Theo's number one priority. Every day he would track Mia down there and then head back upstairs with her to heat up his lunch. They would sit at a small table by the vending machines and drink coffee.

“What's that you're eating?” she asked him one day.

“Why? Doesn't it look good?”

“Sure, I guess so, but I'm not sure it's all that good for you.”

“I'm not on a diet.”

“Me neither, but I still watch what I eat.”

“So what exactly is wrong with my lunch?”

“Too many carbs, not enough protein.”

“I don't need more protein!”

“Yes, you do, to build muscle,” Mia said, pointing to her flat stomach.

“But they say meat clogs your arteries.”

“There are other sources of protein. Egg whites, for example.”

“I don't see myself becoming a connoisseur of egg whites.”

Mia burst out laughing. “You have no imagination.”

“Do you have any recipes?”

“Tell you what: why don't you come over to my place for dinner? Kwan went to New York this morning. He won't be back till late. I'll make you my specialty. Egg-white curry. It's delicious.”

Theo gave her a sidelong glance.

“And besides,” she went on, “I hate eating alone.”

—

Back in his office, Theo called Julia from his cell phone and told her not to wait for him. He was going out for dinner with some colleagues. Luckily, Diane had just called to invite her to the movies.

Theo had gotten into the habit of keeping some clean white shirts in the bottom drawer of his desk. He went down to the gym to take a shower and change.

It had been a long time since he'd felt this pleasant sensation. He couldn't wait to be alone with Mia in her apartment. He lingered under the shower to prolong the pleasure and lost track of time. On his way out, he ran into Ben, a
coworker and neighbor, who had just finished his workout. His wife, Pat, who also worked for the company, happened to be out of town.

“Let's go for a drink,” Ben suggested.

“Not tonight. I've got dinner plans,” Theo replied, eyeing his watch.

The gym door slammed open. Mia burst in, said a quick hello to Ben, and pulled Theo aside.

“I've been looking for you. I left you a voice mail. Then I saw your car was still in the lot.”

Mia was fiddling nervously with her keys. “I'm really sorry. I have a project that's due tomorrow morning and I need to pull an all-nighter. Shall we see each other tomorrow?”

“No problem,” said Theo with a broad smile.

She rushed out of the gym, leaving a trail of perfume in the air.

“Well . . . looks like we can go for that drink after all,” said Theo, staring at the door.

—

The weeks that followed were a torture. They saw each other only at the gym. Theo had to make an effort not to call Mia. He had wanted to send her flowers at home and talked himself out of it just in time. Instead he bought an anthology of Argentine poems and left it on her desk with a bookmark tucked inside marking a sonnet by Francisco Luis Bernárdez. The last lines were underlined:

Porque después de todo he comprendido

Que lo que el árbol tiene de florido

Vive de lo que tiene sepultado.
*

Unable to understand it, Mia sent the three lines to her father. He wrote back straightaway with a translation, adding a note at the end: “This was one of your mother's favorite poems. Where did you get it?”

Mia sat down. Her hands were shaking. She had to stop seeing Theo. Finally she picked up her cell phone.

“Let's have dinner tonight.”

—

Mia made a reservation at a sushi bar in the center of Westport, a ten-minute drive from the office. It was also one of Kwan's favorite restaurants. She felt safe there. She planned to tell Theo that she needed some space.

Instead she found herself talking about her life throughout the evening.

“My mother died soon after I was born. I have no memory of her. Dad hardly ever talks about her. I think he resents her for committing suicide.”

“I thought she died during childbirth.”

“Yes, that's what I always say. The word ‘suicide' scares people. It's okay. It hasn't affected me, since I never had any emotional bond with her. I couldn't even tell you what it means to be part Mapuche. I have her eyes, that's all. I prefer to have people think I'm Korean. That way I don't have to explain about my mother.”

“Do you know why she did it?”

“I know her family never forgave her for marrying my father. She was some sort of Mapuche princess. I believe she was very beautiful.”

“Do you have any photos of her?”

“No, none at all.”

“What about your father? Did he keep any?”

“It was a very hard blow for him. He left Argentina, and he's never wanted to go back. He made a new life for himself here. He married Nicole when I was barely two and then became an American citizen. She helped him to stop drinking. She didn't want to have any more children, so she could take care of me. She's my real mother. We were very lucky.”

“How did he meet Nicole?”

“Nicole? She's the sister of his best friend. That's how they met. Uncle George is a captain in the air force; he's the one who helped me get this job. If it wasn't for him, I never would have been hired at Swirbul and Collier.”

“True. Not just anyone can get a job with Swirbul and Collier,” Theo said, stirring the ice around in his glass. He reached out and stroked Mia's cheek. She stopped him.

“No, Theo.”

“We have too much in common for us to stop here.”

“I don't want to.”

“I'll only go as far as you want, Mia. I can wait.”

—

Newark airport was very busy and the traffic was moving slowly. Cars were lining up to drop off passengers, then struggling to negotiate their way out of the congestion. Theo was impatient. He had just said good-bye to Julia, who was leaving for a month to visit Ulysses.

After one final maneuver to overtake a long line of taxis, Theo forked off in the direction of New York City. He took the New Jersey Turnpike and then turned onto a congested freeway through the Bronx, telling himself that yet again he'd made the wrong decision. Finally he passed the toll plaza and sped toward the Connecticut Turnpike, heading up the coast in the direction of Trumbull. He still had an hour's drive ahead.

By the time he'd parked in front of Mia's building, the sky had already turned red. A flock of birds flew overhead, chirping loudly. Theo looked out and saw the white streak of a plane crossing the blue sky. He hesitated for a moment, then got out of the car.

—

Mia opened the door wearing a simple green wrap dress tied at the waist and black stilettos. Theo watched her as she walked
over to a carefully laid table. The lit candles in the center were reflected in a large picture window. Everything had its place in the room, a minimalist space uncluttered by ornaments or photographs. Mia poured a glass of champagne and offered it to Theo.

“What are we celebrating?” he asked, putting an arm around her waist.

“Our first weekend on our own,” she answered, moving closer.

“And I thought you'd asked me over to sample your famous egg-white curry.”

“There's something else on the menu,” she murmured in his ear.

She took him by the hand and led him down the hall.

—

The next morning he was awakened by a ray of sunlight falling across his face. Mia was curled up against him, her lips slightly parted as she slept.