Rice Girls by Emily A. Kim

Author:Emily A. Kim [Kim, Emily A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emily A. Kim
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I sometimes think of Halmoni when I see an old Asian lady in Koreatown, and I wonder whether I inherited the Lee’s omen, like my uncle who committed suicide. In these moments, Halmoni’s voice reverberates in my head: “You’ll have a tough fate as a Korean woman because of your Yankee chi.” Did she mean that I should have kept the balance between being Korean and American, choosing the middle way? Did she mean my race and gender determine yin and yang in my life? Either way, she was right about my chi, which wasn’t flowing in the right direction. My relationship with Jason was rather like a free fall that fluctuated with his mood.

One December night, Jason came home past midnight holding a dozen roses. He threw the bouquet on the bed.

“Here,” he said.

“Why are you bribing me with flowers?”

“You’re so not romantic.”

“OK, let’s start a second take,” I said, then cleared my throat with a nasal sound. “Oh my gosh! These roses are so perfect. And you’re the greatest, stud!”

“Stop it. You’re giving me goose bumps,” he said. I noticed his shirt was covered in a blizzard of cat hair. I sniffled.

“You stink like a stray cat bathed in beer. You know I’m allergic.”

I rolled over in bed, attempting to fall asleep, when he climbed in. “Hey, get up! I have something to tell you,” he said.

“What?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“A big producer wants to produce my script. My agent called, and they started negotiating my fee,” he said.

“Some hotshot is buying your project?”

“Yes, this could be the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for.”

“Wow! Wee!” I jumped up and down on the bed. It was the highest point of my adult life. It wasn’t about the money. Jason’s validation as a writer also felt like my validation. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pouring kisses all over him. I sank down onto his lap. Success was definitely the strongest aphrodisiac for me. I didn’t even need foreplay. He started to kiss me. “By the way, why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

“Umm . . . I wanted to . . . surprise you,” he said between kisses on my neck. He took off my cotton top.

“You were with Kelly, right? And she heard the news before me?” He stopped kissing.

“Yes. Why is it a big deal who heard it first? We went to see American Beauty for our research and stopped by her place in the afternoon to work on our new project. And I got the call while I was there. That’s all!”

“What the hell is that smell?” I asked, putting my top back on.

“We ate Chinese takeout and drank some beer. Then she busted out some pot to celebrate, and it kinda hit me. I crashed in her room for a couple hours.”

“What? You guys smoked together and took a nap in her bed?”

“Yeah . . . because you’re kinda uptight. You don’t let me touch that shit.”

“It’s because of George. I told you how he became a Vicodin addict after the Gulf War tour due to his PTSD.

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