My Seoul Man

Chapter 46

We stayed overnight hoping to get a little more information from Wally and Rita by morning. And for a while, we were that kind of "chill" that comes from trying not to say what needs saying until you're ready to say it right.

Ran around trying to pack up and rework the logistics after the mess we'd just been through. And I was almost grateful for that mess we'd been through, because having to make all those adjustments kept us too busy to get into "the Blaine thing."

We were like one of those 50s sitcom couples who smile picture perfect smiles and coo, "Why, thank you, honey," across the table—you ever watch one of those? With the wives doing housework in heels and perfect, petticoated "fit and flare" dresses with the little ruffly aprons tied at their teeny-weeny waists?

Kudos to the people who made that Revolutionary Road movie, the one with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, where they give you the gory deets about what went on in those perfect little houses and families back then. Hurts my heart, what finally happens, but it rings so true.

Thankfully, our bodies climbed right over the walls our minds had put up the minute we slipped between the sheets. We made love gently...kind of cautiously at first. Trying to read each other and then slipping down into the feel of it.

And I remember looking down at him in those last, super intense seconds and feeling so...I guess safe is the right word. Like we were always going to be okay—first time in my whole life a man had made me feel like that.

I was powerful and proud—almost made that man pass out, rocking so hard. Saw stars myself, actually. Fell down on top of him all sweaty and spent...

So, the next morning I happily handled all the car trip logistics. Picked the best route, rest stops and a funky little diner listed on a "Best of the Southwest" travel site that looked like the kind of "mom and pop" sort of place AJ had come home to see.

And we clapped hands like kids on Christmas morning when the waitress came at us with these chicken fried steaks that took up a whole plate. All the advertised "fixins" had to be set out in bowls in the middle of the table like Korean banchan.

Collards with big chunks of ham hocks, cheesy grits, fried green tomatoes and fried okra, buttery tasting hash browns, and lard rich dumplings--Sadie sides.

Cooked by this little Pillsbury dough woman with twinkly eyes, chubby red cheeks and a killer Texas twang, cracking jokes with the waitresses and customers through the big kitchen window behind the counter.

The dumplings AJ spooned onto my plate were so silky smooth in my mouth that I moaned, "Oh, my God..." in a way that made him turn red in the face.

And when I said, "Yeah, it's almost as good as you," he almost sprayed the table with sweet tea.

The big laugh that followed removed the little bit of tension still left between us, finally. So, he sat back, got all soft and sincere in the eyes, and said, "I'm not mad at you, okay? About Blaine. I mean, I'm not sure how I feel about him maybe just walking in on us one day..."

"Yeah well, he just...I don't know. He was bragging like everything was fine. But as usual, he's messed up some kind of way. Sounds worse than usual, actually."

"Thing is, I get a little wary when a woman says her exes are dead to her, you know? Some of 'em may deserve to be exiled, but I just feel like if you cared about someone deeply enough to share your life with them for a while—if she can just shut them out completely, that's a red flag."

"Wasn't that deep with us. We had sort of a, 'Just get me through one more night,' kinda thing. You know about that. You told me about it. The quickies in the car."