Linh Ly is Doing Just Fine by Thao Votang

Author:Thao Votang
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

♦ 16 ♦

“HOW IS THE JOB search going?” I asked Hoa. We had met for lunch and were now walking around a mall together. This particular mall drew residents from across the metroplex and tourists alike. There were rides, multiple food courts, a skate park, and glass ceilings along the main concourse. We walked through clouds of pizza, cookies, and popcorn odors. Hoa led me into one of her regular stores, and we went straight back to the petite section.

“It’s good. I’ve got a trip coming up soon for an interview in New York,” Hoa said. She held a gray, knee-length dress up to her body. “Do you think this looks professional?”

“I’d go for the oxblood.” I pulled out a dress in her size.

“Did you abandon all the clothes we bought before?” Hoa asked.

I’d worn my typical outfit of all black. I considered telling her how I only wore those clothes when I followed my mom around so that she wouldn’t recognize me. “No, I guess I defaulted to my usual today.”

We made our way to the dressing rooms, and I sat by her door as she changed.

“How have you been? You seem distracted or something? Different?” Hoa said from the other side of the door.

“Fine. Everything in my life is fine.”

“How is it working from home? I don’t think I could do that.”

“I like it. Wouldn’t you like to not use bathroom stalls?”

“Sure, I guess. But you don’t miss seeing people?”

Miss people from work? I thought of the men and their cologne and loud voices. I remembered how they leaned over me and my desk as they explained the email they had just sent to me, as if I could not read. Then there were the men who looked you up and down when you entered the room, as though you were not able to see them doing it. I thought of the women who actually thought they were equal to the men, and if they were white, they almost were. Almost, and that almost made them unpredictable. I thought of the bias and diversity training. I thought of the smell of someone else’s excrement. I thought about how I could hear the men not wash their hands as they left the bathroom, the toilet still flushing as the bathroom door opened and shut. How then, those poop-handed men touched the doorknobs, copier machine, and water dispenser.

“I don’t miss those people,” I said as Hoa stepped into the three-way mirror, wearing the dress in question.

“Oxblood definitely looks better.” Hoa turned to look at her backside. “I won’t miss the people from my work either. Do you ever think of leaving?”

“It’s fine now. I doubt I interview well.”

“There are how-tos for that. I’ll send you the ones I’m using. How is your mom doing?”

“She seems okay. Goes to work and comes home and gardens.”

“But, like, how does she feel?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you ask?”

“Why would I ask her that?”

“Well, how are you feeling these days?”

“Why are you trying to talk about feelings?” I

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