In the weeks since Roseanne crashed Freddie's happy hour, they'd reached a nice rhythm. It was mostly silent, but not hostile.
Lisa was deep into researching the legislative evolution of the domestic violence statute when Roseanne's phone rang. Jolted out of her focused state, she tried to ignore it and get back in the zone.
"Roseanne Park," she answered before continuing to type. "Oh, um," Roseanne hesitated. "Do you speak English? No? Okay let me just . . . Hang on. Jamsiman gidalyeojuseyo"
Lisa looked to the side, shocked at the heavy Australian accent warping the Korean words and adding a sharp edge to the soft sounds. As Roseanne continued to ask the caller to please bear with her, she typed into an online translator.
What the hell are you doing?
Struggling, Roseanne read the phonetic lines on the screen. They made a little sense, but the grammar was all wrong and her pronunciation was painful. Judging by what Lisa could piece together, she had a victim on the phone, and she was losing them.
Lisa waved until Roseanne looked at her, panic in her eyes and beads of sweat building at her temples. "Do you need help?" she mouthed.
Roseanne's eyes darted from Lisa to her computer screen. In her conflicted silence, Lisa made the decision for her, snatching the phone out of her hand.
"Joh-eun ohueyo," she started before reaching for a blank pad and a pen.
Half an hour later, Lisa had filled the page with answers to the questions Roseanne fed her. She'd even arranged for the woman to come into the office when she finished work so they could talk more in person.
"Thank you," Roseanne said without looking at her as she read through her notes. "I didn't know I needed a translator, or I would've arranged for one with Victim's Services."
Lisa wasn't used to Roseanne exhibiting anxiety. "It's no big deal. I'm happy to help," she said, interrupting her spiral and attempting to rescue her from it.
Roseanne exhaled and released her shoulders. "Thanks."
A chilly silence wormed its way into the room. Lisa was compelled to will it away with a joke. "I can't believe you don't speak Korean. Not even a little something from squid game?"
"My parents went out of their way to make sure I never learned. In school, they made me take Mandarin instead of Korean," she replied, her eyes darting to her lap while she made the admission. "Rosetta Stone can only teach me so much."
"Why? Didn't you grow up here? Why wouldn't someone with the last name Park not speak Korean? Even my non-Korean friends know some basic Korean."
Roseanne's hazel eyes dimmed, making Lisa regret her questions. "They didn't want me to have an accent," she explained. "Lots of internalized racism, you know?"
Her honesty was harsh but not shocking. Lisa nodded, abandoning her attempts to lighten the mood. "I know something about that. My mom's Thai and my dad is Swiss. Most of his family cut us off because he married the help," she admitted compulsively, her heart stinging at the remembered cruelty. "I honestly don't understand this false belief that anyone is superior to anyone else." Lisa shook her head. "We're all just people."
"That's really fucked up," Roseanne decided, looking like she wanted to reach across the table to comfort her. "We lap up the bullshit that certain people are more worthy than others and destroy ourselves with it. When I was little, everyone in my family was obsessed with the fact that I'd been born a blonde." Roseanne rolled her eyes and sneered in disgust. "You'd think I was touched by the gods. For shit's sake my mom was so desperate to whitewash us she named me and my sister Roseanne and Alice." Her laugh was a bitter, caustic thing. "If it weren't for her equally powerful obsession with being part of the Korean-American upper class, she probably would have changed our last names too."
