My Orean Christmas Prince

Chapter 3: CALEB

It's easy to get back to the spot where Yeong-soo's abandoned Porsche is (a rental apparently), and the first thing I do is have him steer while I push it further off the road so I can take a better look at the tire.

"The nearest place you could get this kind of tire would be Black River Falls, maybe, and that's about an hour away," I tell him, breaking the bad news after I've looked it over. "Otherwise it would be Eau Claire, and that's even further away -- more than an hour and a half." Yeong-soo nods and says he'll have everything taken care of once he gets to Silver Falls.

With that done I get his suitcase out of the rental and into the back of the truck, and then we head to the cemetery. The cemetery's a bit of a drive to get to (pretty much everything around here is far apart), and I steal glances over at my unexpected guest every once in a while. Ever since he's accepted the inevitability of his situation he seems pretty content to just take things as they come, which I hadn't expected since his clothes make it seem like he must be a high-powered business executive or something and used to bossing people around and having everything perfect. Yeong-soo's eyes are bright and observant and alive with intelligence, as if nothing escapes him, but he also has an easy smile that I guiltily admit to myself that I want to see more of.

I hate making small talk, and Yeong-soo seems fine with the silence save for the music coming from the stereo. I'm glad he liked the music I picked out, and with someone else the long silence might seem uncomfortable. But somehow with him it feels natural, like maybe he's used to it. Maybe, like me, he prefers not filling up silence with pointless chatter. Or could be he's just jet lagged.

When we get to the cemetery I leave Yeong-soo near the main building where the cell phone reception is always pretty good, and I grab the branches of holly out of the truck. It takes me just a few minutes to walk down to where mom and dad are buried.

Like them, their grave is simple and restrained, to the point of austerity. I straighten the Christmas wreath I had left here a week ago and brush off some stray pine needles and dead leaves that have gathered near the foot of it before laying the holly neatly down and then taking a step back to take a good look at the tombstone, even though I have every detail of its surface virtually memorized by now. Always practical, they'd picked out the marker well in advance, and the Bible verse as well. The verse that they had picked out fits them to a T.

"Bless the Lord O my soul and all that is within me bless His holy name."

Psalm 103:1

Abigail and Joshua Davies

I linger over the verse and their names and the dates below their names like I always do, running my hand over the inset letters and numbers and murmuring the words marking their heartfelt devotion to myself. My eyes close and I wish, not for the first time, that I could bring myself to say a prayer for them, to believe that they're in a better place, but, of course, I can't make myself believe in any of it, any more than they could make themselves not believe in all of it.

I spend a few minutes wallowing in the messy storm of emotions that always start churning inside me in this place, a stark contrast to the smooth and undisturbed surface of the tombstone and the serene silence of the surroundings. All these years later, and I'm still full of anger, regret, sadness... My body gradually realizes that it's freezing, which shakes me out of my reverie, and as my mind drifts back to the present I also notice that snowflakes are starting to softly fall, the calm and quiet further contrasting with my swirling emotions. With a sigh I turn and start walking slowly back to the parking lot and just as I remember I shouldn't be keeping my guest waiting I see that the stranger, no, Yeong-soo, is standing a respectful distance away. For a moment I feel a little embarrassed that he may have been watching me, but he has his back turned away and doesn't turn to look at me until I've walked right up next to him.

"Are you all right?" he asks in a soft voice. The sympathy and concern in his eyes catch me off guard.

"Sure. Fine. Thanks," I say, a little brusquely and then clear my throat, just now realizing that there's been a lump in it and a stinging in my eyes. My instinct is to rush ahead and leave Yeong-soo to catch up, but I force myself to walk at the same pace that I was. I don't know which would make me feel worse, the kindness of a stranger or the kindness of a friend. I guess in my case I haven't had much of either since they died, so Yeong-soo's sympathy affects me more than it should.

We're soon back in the warmth of the truck and headed back to the farm, and already the snowfall is getting noticeably heavier.

"Were you able to get in touch with your co-workers?" I ask a bit briskly after we've left the cemetery behind, just now realizing I should have asked earlier.

"Yes, thank you for driving me all the way out here," Yeong-soo says. "Mission accomplished," he adds after a short pause, with another one of his dazzling smiles at the English colloquialism. I appreciate his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm worried about how long I'll be delayed, though," he says, his expression turning serious.

I try to be reassuring. "Hopefully the storm will just pass through in a couple of hours tonight and the roads will be clear by tomorrow, late morning or early afternoon."

"Is that in the best case?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

"Well.. Yeah. But even in the worst case, if it's a really big storm, it would only add on another day. The cities get top priority for the snow ploughs, but there's a whole fleet of them and it doesn't take long for them to cover the whole state," I explain.

Yeong-soo still looks anxious about the possible additional delay, so I figure it's my turn to try to lighten the mood. "Got a big business deal lined up? Or just missing your girlfriend?" I say jokingly.

Yeong-soo looks over at me quickly with an odd expression on his face. He turns back to face forward and there's a long silence, and I'm left feeling more than a little confused. I wonder if I said something I shouldn't have, or if I'm being rude and too nosy or too familiar, or if maybe he misunderstood my English, and I'm just about to start to think I should apologize when he starts to speak slowly, looking straight ahead at the road in front of us the whole time. "Well, any delays in the company's schedule is a problem, and..." His voice trails off. I wait, thinking he's going to continue, but I guess he thinks better of it, and so we sit in silence just listening to the cello music that's still playing softly on the truck's stereo.

"Actually..." he says finally breaking the silence, "I was going to propose to my girlfriend on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow night. It's, you know... kind of a popular time of year for proposals in Korea."

I look over at him, and now I find myself being the sympathetic one. "Oh, congratulations! No wonder you needed to get to Silver Falls so badly! That's too bad about the weather wrecking your plans, though. Hopefully the storm won't be too bad and everything will work out," I say trying to be reassuring again.

Yeong-soo is still looking straight ahead, but he's shaking his head. "No, it's not like that," he says mumbling a little.

I'm not sure what he means by that, but he seems uncomfortable and I don't want to pry, so I just nod and shoot him another sympathetic look. Maybe his relationship is on the rocks, or maybe he's getting cold feet. He wouldn't be the first guy who's afraid of commitment. There's another long silence with just the music and the sound of the air rushing by, and in the cozy cocoon of the truck, protected from the cold and the snow, keeping them at bay, the silence between us becomes somehow a little more expectant. It seems like Yeong-soo wants to say more, like maybe he can confide in a stranger in the middle of nowhere in a way that he wouldn't be able to with anyone else. I resist the urge to ask him what he means, and just let him take his time to say something more, if he even wants to.

Eventually he does speak. "I'm..." he starts hesitantly, and then pauses again. "I'm not in love with her," he finally says slowly, turning his head to the right to look out the truck's window at vague shapes in the darkness whizzing by, as if purposely not wanting to see my reaction. The hesitant way he's saying it makes me suspect that this is the first time he's said this out loud to anyone else, and I'm touched by his honesty, that he feels like he can trust me and confide in me.

"Why do you want to marry her?" I ask curiously. "For money? Or maybe she's the boss's daughter or something?" I try to convey by the tone of my voice that I have no need to judge him at all, but it seems like he has things he wants to get off his chest.

"Sort of both, in a way," he admits looking back at me for just a moment and then back out the window. "It's more complicated than that, though. It would help both of our careers for one thing. We would sort of be a 'power couple', you know what I mean? And all of our families and friends want it to happen. We've known each other for a long time. We sort of grew up together, so we're really good friends, so it wouldn't be hard to do. In a way I do love her."

"But just as a friend. Not romantically?"

"Yes," he says with a sigh. "Not romantically."

There are a lot of other questions that instantly spring to my mind to ask him (most of which I wouldn't actually ask), but in any case I don't want to make him feel worse about the situation. "I'm sorry. I'm not so great with giving advice. But you'll figure it out," I say encouragingly.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to," he says with a sigh. He shoots me a somewhat sad half-smile that somehow shoots its way straight into my chest, and then he turns to stare out the window once again.

Fuck. This is bad. Turns out this guy isn't just drop-dead gorgeous, but he's intelligent, sensitive, cultured, not to mention likes animals, and may soon be single and unattached... Geez, what is wrong with me? Why am I hoping he breaks up with his girlfriend? He's only staying for one night, I remind myself. You're never going to see him again anyway. Just because he's having relationship problems doesn't mean he's gay. He's probably straight. Don't be a fucking creep. Just act normal.

In avoiding creeping out over Yeong-soo, my thoughts inevitably get pulled back to thinking about my parents again and how much they loved Christmas, and then those thoughts start chasing their tail again, as they aways do. We both get lost in our thoughts, and the journey back to the farm seems quicker than the drive out.

I call Rosie back in as we head into the house, and as I'm hanging up our coats I start to broach the subject of dinner.

"Sorry, I don't really cook much myself," I say a bit embarrassed to admit it as a grown man. "I have some frozen food that I can heat up if you don't mind--"

We're back in the kitchen and Yeong-soo holds up his hand to cut me off. "May I?" he asks with his dazzling and, this time, somewhat mischievous smile, a complete change from his mood from before in the truck. He gestures to my refrigerator and cupboards and, surprised, I nod, not sure exactly what he's thinking. There's no trace of his former melancholy as he bustles about, opening the refrigerator and rummaging through its drawers, glancing through the freezer, and taking stock of the various spices and such I have lying around. I always have some basic staples like eggs and oil and pasta and some canned and frozen vegetables, and luckily I also happen to have more groceries than usual this week.

"Aaron's mom comes by to cook for me once a week because I'm no good at it," I explain. "I told her not to cook for me this week because of all the family they have visiting them for the holidays, so she dropped off some groceries a few days ago."

"You don't eat meat?" Yeong-soo asks in the midst of his inspection, not hiding his surprise.

"Oh, no. I don't," I say, just realizing that I should have thought of it before. "Sorry! The store's closed now, but we can buy some meat for you tomorrow morning if you want--"

"No, no, that's fine. Most people don't eat a lot of meat in Korea. What were you planning to make with all of this?" he asks, surveying the landscape of assorted vegetables.

"Oh, well, Aaron's mom left me some recipes..." I pick up some sheets of paper that have been sitting on the counter untouched. "To be honest, I was just going to throw some stuff into a pot and make a vegetable soup or something. That's what I usually do..."

Yeong-soo murmurs an "Mm hmm", but he's clearly barely listening to my tepid explanation as he skims through the sheaf of recipes with a clearly practiced eye. He tosses them back onto the counter and then turns back to the cupboards, pulling out the bottles and containers sitting at the fronts of the shelves so that he can peer at the ingredients that have been hiding for too long behind them.

"You have soy sauce!" Yeong-soo says turning to me with surprised enthusiasm. "And Korean hot sauce!" he says with even more excitement as he pounces on a bottle long forgotten in the back of one of the shelves, quickly opening it to look inside and give it a sniff. He looks back at me questioningly, the pleased surprise written clearly on his face.

"Um, yeah. I like Asian food. There aren't any Asian restaurants near here so I thought I would try to cook some myself, but I never really seem to get around to it..."

Yeong-soo has his arms crossed and his head tilted to one side, and I can almost see the gears whirring inside. "Do you like Asian stir fries?" he asks.

"Yeah, definitely."

"And you like spicy food?" he asks, gesturing to the Korean hot sauce.

"Yeah. Not super spicy, but, yeah."

"Got it." He drums his fingers on the countertop resolutely a few times, like a pianist warming up her finger muscles, and then with an air of finality he says briskly, "I'm going to cook you dinner." It's an announcement, not a question.

I kind of figured that this was where everything was leading to, but I try to protest. "You don't need to do that. Really. You're my guest, I can figure something out. I think I have some frozen pizzas--"

Yeong-soo's already waving his hand dismissively at me, while seeming to simultaneously be putting on Aaron's mom's apron (which he somehow manages to make look fashionable -- is there anything that doesn't look good on him??), digging through the pots and pans, and shooing me out of the kitchen.

"It's the least I can do for letting me stay with you," he says. "Really. I want to. I don't often get a chance to cook for myself, and..." He pauses for a split second and an odd look comes over his face. "I haven't cooked for someone else in a really long time," he says. At first I think he looks a little sad, but, actually, he's sort of doing that half-smile again, like his memory was bittersweet.

"If you're sure you don't mind--" I start to say, but Yeong-soo has a more present and determined look on his face now and he's already pulled out a cutting board and a knife and started sorting through the vegetables. "I can help chop at least..." I offer feebly, but Yeong-soo shakes his head at me still smiling and makes the shooing motion at me again, so I give up and just go along with it. I guess he must really like cooking.

I was thinking I would have to entertain my guest for most of the evening, so I have to pause to remind myself what I should be doing with my unexpected free time. It's close to Rosie and Sonia's dinner time, so I fill their bowls and check that they have enough water. There were a couple of things I needed to check on in the barn, so I dawdle out there for a bit getting the ram and the other sheep settled in for the night and straightening things up and putting some equipment away, including the kerosene. The snow is coming down hard now and so I make sure everything is locked down tightly for the night, and then I figure I should shower before dinner. I definitely wasn't expecting any visitors today, and left on my own I have to confess that I definitely don't shower as much as I should since most days it's just Aaron and the sheep and other animals and me (and Aaron definitely showers less than I do).

As I pass back by the kitchen I notice that Yeong-soo's found an old stereo of my parents in one of the cupboards and has an old Beach Boys cassette playing. He seems to have his preparations in full swing, and there seem to be multiple concoctions on the stove bubbling away or steaming or frying, with Yeong-soo a whirl of calm and concentrated activity in the middle of it.

"I'm just going to take a quick shower," I yell at him over the various cooking sounds and the music. Yeong-soo nods and gives me a quick smile and wave before turning his attention back to his work while humming along to the music, and so I start to trot along to the shower, shaking my head again at what an unpredictable day this is turning out to be. As I go I can't help but sneak a look back. Yeong-soo seems to be a dashingly good-looking and well-dressed octopus with eight arms going at once, and his surprisingly relaxed and serene expression in the midst of all the controlled madness gives me yet another punch in the gut/heart/I don't even know where any more.

All the time I'm showering I'm trying to talk myself down into some semblance of calm, and my endless ability to concoct scenarios in my head comes in handy. He's got to be straight. He may not be in love with his girlfriend, but he probably has some other girlfriend that his parents don't approve of who he's madly in love with. Or maybe he's pining for an old college girlfriend. Or maybe he's in love with one of his other co-workers, or an intern, or his boss... By the time I'm drying off I'm still inventing stories in my head about him and coming up with about a million scenarios abundantly illustrating why I need to calm the fuck down, and then I'm standing in front of my open closet with a towel wrapped around my waist, looking at my meager wardrobe in a minor state of paralysis.

My first instinct is to dress up. Yeong-soo is so well dressed in his slim and fitted shirt and slacks (no doubt custom made) that I've been feeling shabby in comparison all day, ever since I met him. But I'd look shabby next to him even on my best day, and besides, it's not like this is a fucking date. But I don't want to just put on my regular farmer uniform of jeans and a plaid shirt either, though... With a sigh I opt for something a little nicer than my usual daily wear, namely, a comfortable cable knit gray wool sweater that I've had forever and some heavy olive corduroys. I trim and comb my beard and hair a bit and fidget over my appearance for longer than I should, and finally with a little sigh of defeat I force myself to go back out to the kitchen.

"Wow, smells great!" I say entering the kitchen, both surprised and relieved. It would have been awkward if his cooking had been terrible, but honestly, even it were, anything he'd make would be about a hundred times better than anything I'd be able to come up with on my own.

Yeong-soo seems to be finishing up, and I'm amazed at how much he's been able to cook in such a short amount of time. He looks up at me from the stove absently, and then pauses and refocuses his eyes when he sees that I've changed clothes. I stand a little awkwardly under that intense intelligent gaze of his, and he says something quietly under his breath that I assume is Korean because I don't think I hear it correctly, and then he smiles and says, "I like your sweater. It matches your eyes." I'm profoundly glad that my beard covers most of my face because I can feel myself slowly flushing red at the compliment, but then I kick myself for wanting to make more of it than it is (he complimented your sweater, not you, I tell myself sternly). To cover my embarrassment I start to pull out plates and silverware to set the table, albeit more vigorously and noisily than needed. When mom and dad had died I did a lot of remodelling to the house and pulled down the walls that separated the kitchen, dining room, and living room, and with everything near to hand it doesn't take me long to get the two place settings ready.