JENNIE
I've been here for almost two weeks, and it's as though my mother still can't believe I'm home. Or maybe she doesn't really know what to do with her only daughter's prolonged presence. I don't know what to do with myself either, so I've decided to do not much at all. To try and find some sort of peace deep inside me, hoping it will guide me to whatever my next step will be, although there are only two options: go back to Kai, or not.
What has proven hardest of all, especially now that I spend so much more time on my phone, is not texting Lisa. Not knowing how she's doing. Trying not to think about our night together. Technically, we had two nights together, and the first paved the way for the second, but the second night is the one that counts. The one that keeps coming back to me because I suspect—I'm afraid—that during that gorgeous night out there in Topanga Canyon, I might have fallen in love with my sister-in-law.
I can take a plane and travel hundreds of miles to put some much needed distance between us, but my heart doesn't care about that. Not if all the yearning it does for her is anything to go by.
I join my mother on the front porch. It's a habit I've taken up since the first day I got here. After dinner, we sit in two adjoining chairs and drink one glass—never more than that—of wine.
There's not much to see in the street beyond the front yard. The occasional car drives past but that's it. It's not silent, but it's peaceful—like in Topanga.
Every time I've sat next to her, my mother has tried to pry more information out of me. She's not the live-and-let-live type. She likes to know things and me coming home for an extended visit—with no leaving date confirmed—is cause for much speculation.
I've told her about the six rounds of failed IVF; the two failed pregnancies, and the one possibly failed marriage, although not in those words.
"So you're separated but you're not leaving him?" she asked on the first night. Every following night, she's come up with a way to ask the question in an alternative manner. Do you still love him? Does he still love you? Is there someone else? Can you live with the two of you not having any children?
None of those questions have been easy to answer, and most of my replies have consisted of the same three words: I don't know.
"Look at this, Jennie." Mom shows me the magazine she's been reading. "I know you never really got along with Kai's sister, but she's in this big movie with Jisoo Kim."
The one topic I've avoided since arriving is Lisa, because I'm afraid of what I might say.
"Yeah. We all went to the premiere together." A dubious kind of warmth spreads through me at the memory. "Lisa even took me to a party at Jisoo Kim's house."
"She did?" Mom puts the magazine away with a decisive gesture—as though I've also failed as her daughter by not telling her about that as soon as it happened. "You met Jisoo Kim?"
"And Chaeyoung Park." As amazing as that night was, it pales in comparison to everything that happened to Lisa and me afterward.
"What were they like? Why didn't you tell me about this? I know you live in LA, in Hollywood, and that your sister-in-law is an actor, but that's about the extent of it. I'm your mother, Jennie."
"Lisa, she, um…" I take a sip of wine. I find myself wholly unable to discuss Lisa in this situation. "We get along better now."
"Sounds like it." My mother's piercing gaze burns my cheek, but I'm afraid to look at her. I stare straight ahead, at the nothingness I came here to find.
"None of that's a big deal, Mom. Jisoo and Chaeyoung are two women just like us."
"Goodness, darling, you must be more depressed than I thought if you can't even get excited about something like that anymore."
"Depressed? I'm not depressed." Just relentlessly confused.
"Could have fooled me. You may not tell me a lot about your life anymore, but you came here for a reason. I'm still your mother, and I can still sense certain things." She pauses. "You don't have to, but you can talk to me. Isn't that why you're here?"
"Maybe." I wish I could talk to my mom, but she's only going to tell me the same thing Sana and Mary—and Lisa for that matter—told me.
"If you no longer see a future for you and Kai, that's okay. Most marriages don't last. It's a small miracle if a marriage does last these days."
"You and dad have lasted for over forty years."
"Not without a lot of give and take." She huffs out some air. "And at times, it has been a small miracle."
That's the first I've heard of that, but I haven't lived here for two decades. I haven't come to visit as often as I should have. I try to make it at least once a year for Christmas or Thanksgiving, but it's always too short, and there are always other family members around.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Mom?" I do look in her direction now.
"No. It's all water under the bridge now."
"But… do you think that you should have split up at a certain point? Do you regret not doing so?"
Mom shakes her head. "I regret many things, but that's how life is." She sends me a small smile. "Except for having you, darling. I've never regretted that for one single second." She leans her elbows on her knees. "I'm really sorry that you and Kai can't conceive. I know how much you want it and yours wouldn't be the first marriage to break under that kind of strain, nor would it be the last."
"It's not like I suddenly stopped loving him, but—" I pause to take another sip. "We haven't had fun in such a long time. I think we lost our sense of humor somewhere around IVF round number three. That was a long time ago."
My mom remains uncharacteristically silent, so I continue.
"All the treatments and doctor's offices were dreadful enough, but what's been most excruciating has been going home after and despite having all this common ground, and this huge joint wish for a child, despite all the love we have for each other, we weren't able to find each other, like a wire in our connection broke and nothing can fix it." I drain my glass of wine. As though she knows that tonight we will need more than one glass, Mom gets up and walks back out with the bottle. She refills both our glasses.
"Do you know how Kai feels about all this?" she asks.
"He pretty much told me it's very hard for him to be around me. That it's too painful." To repeat my husband's words doesn't hurt me the way I expect—and I know why. I've found my very own special, immoral kind of protection. I've gone and developed feelings for his sister to cushion the blow.
"As your mother, that's really hard to hear."
"For a few years now, our marriage has not been going the way I've wanted it to. Or is that a foolish thing to say? Am I too controlling?"
"You've been disappointed time after time, Jennie. No wonder you feel like that."
"He's not been there for me, and I've not been there for him. I tried, but it was too hard. And now… Oh god, Mom." I look into the distance. "I'm not sure I can go back to him because… there's someone else."
I don't have to see her face to register her sharp intake of breath. "What did you say, darling? There's someone else?"
"I think I may have feelings for someone else, although how can I be sure with the state I'm in? The state of my marriage?" Maybe if I can be abstract about the person, my mother can help me find some clarity.
"I think that, um, when you have feelings for someone, you always know. Whether you act on them is another matter, of course." She squirms around in her seat. "Have you? Acted on your feelings?"
"It doesn't matter." That is the biggest lie of all and I'm so sick of lying. It's one of the reasons I came here, so I would no longer have to lie to the people I love.
"It's hard not to take that as a yes, darling." Mom's voice is barely a whisper. "Have you been unfaithful to your husband?"
Unfaithful? What does that word even mean? What does a wedding vow mean when fifty percent of marriages end in divorce?
"I've been in so much pain, Mom. I've been so lonely. I've felt so utterly alone and then…" I can hardly say 'she was there', but I can't say 'he' either.
"This other person came along and took away some of your pain?" she says.
"Yes. Exactly that. They—She." I can't be coy about this any longer. "It's a woman, Mom." I turn to look at her, just so she knows I'm not ashamed of that part, although I am about many others.
"You have feelings for another woman?" Her voice has a surprising lightness. "A friend of yours?" She smiles at me. "Someone you've confided in and have grown close to, I suppose. Don't worry about that too much. It's only normal for you to project all the feelings you can't express to your husband on the most available person to you. It's good that it's another woman, because it means it's not serious."
My turn to do a double-take. "What do you mean?"
"Well, as far as I know, you're not gay, so how can it possibly be serious?"
"It is serious and maybe I am gay. Or bi."
"Maybe just for now, Jennie, but surely you're not... Really. Not after all this time with Kai. I mean, what would have happened if you had gotten pregnant? You'd simply have continued being straight."
Maybe my mother wasn't the best person to have this conversation with. But she's my mother and she needs to know. I must have wanted her to know, otherwise I wouldn't have gone through the awkwardness of telling her, of having her react this way.
"I get that this is surprising for you. Unexpected. But I'm not straight, I can tell you that."
"Okay. Okay." Mom holds up her hands. "I'm sorry. You're right. It was unexpected and I shouldn't have reacted in that way. I'm well aware, but… I need some time to process."
"No, I know, Mom. It's fine. I didn't mean to spring this on you, but the fact she's a woman is not the issue here."
"No, I guess not. You're right." She takes a few big gulps of air. "So what are you saying? You want to leave Kai for this woman?"
I shake my head. "That would be quite impossible."
"Why?"
"Because…" After I say her name, my mom may never look at me in the same way again. Her opinion of me might be forever changed—and not for the better. "It's Lisa, Mom. I'm in love with Lisa."
"Kai's little sister?" Her voice has gone all high-pitched.
I can only nod.
"You've been having an affair with Kai's sister?"
It sounds awful when said out loud like that, and it is awful in many ways but, in some other ways, being with Lisa has given me so much. It has returned a vital part of me to myself.
"Not an affair," I say, weakly, in my equally weak defense.
"Oh, darling," Mom exclaims. "Did she… try it on with you?"
"No." If anything, I tried it on with her, but saying that now is not a good idea. "I was so lost and she was there. We became friends. Close friends and then… more. And I know it sounds terrible, but, to me, here"—I bring a dramatic hand to my chest—"it's been anything but. She's just… like a dream. Actually, yeah, that's the best way to describe it. Like the most delicious dream you have just before waking up, but then you do wake up, and you realize none of it was real and all you want to do is go back to sleep to continue the dream but you can't. It's gone forever, but the emotion lingers." A tear rains down my cheek. "I came here to get away from her. To wake myself up properly from that dream, but it's not working. I don't miss Kai. I miss Lisa."
"That's a lot," Mom says. "Phew." She leans over and pats my knee. "You've been carrying that load all on your own. No wonder you're exhausted. No wonder I believed you were depressed."
"I'm just in love with someone I can't be with." My shoulders slump. There may be some relief in sharing, but the outcome remains the same.
"How does Lisa feel about you?"
"We haven't really talked about it. It's a bit too confrontational, I guess, but from what I gather, she may feel the same."
"I wish I could tell you what to do. Give you some motherly advice, but this is a really tricky one."
"I know. It's impossible."
"Nothing's impossible, darling," Mom says. "Just untried."