Newness

“How many?” The waiter that stands before them is tall and gauntly handsome, wearing thin-rimmed glasses and a pen tucked fashionably behind his ear.

Rina holds up two fingers, and nods when the waiter tells them that their table will be ready in a moment. She feels slightly uncomfortable in her new tweed skirt, a bit too tight at the waist. She fiddles with her skirt, making a futile effort to stretch out the material, and begins to regret her decision to wear a skirt instead of jeans. The crowded restaurant is filled with people chatting and laughing over their meals, oblivious to her wardrobe struggle and presence altogether. Her boyfriend, who is standing closely behind her, is also dressed with care, in a neatly ironed button-up and dark olive slacks.

His name is Jules, short for Julian. They had first met nearly two years ago through a mutual friend, who had introduced them to one another at a housewarming event. Sitting side by side on their friend’s cream-colored sofa, they had talked with each other throughout the evening, deaf to the people and the chatter around them.

Within two weeks, they were dating. Jules was thoughtful and treated her with care, bringing her flowers one weekend and a a box of cupcakes the next. Their interactions were uninhibited and their conversations flowed with ease, betraying Rina’s initial expectation that they wouldn’t get along; the fact that he was an electrical engineer had made her assume they would have nothing in common. But to Rina’s relief, his job didn’t get in the way of their relationship; their both being Korean made it easier to find things they shared. And it turned out, there seemed to be many. They spoke often of their own parents who were back in Korea, their childhood, the food they liked and missed, the Korean dramas that they respectively enjoyed.

On their one year anniversary, they had planned to celebrate with wine and cake, Rina spending an hour before Jules’ expected arrival decorating her apartment with candles and roses. But Jules didn’t show up. Instead, he left her a text, saying he had a deadline at work and couldn’t make it. When they met a week later, he apologized again, presenting her with a silver necklace clad with a shiny clover pendant at its center.

His sudden absence from their dates continued, the texts saying that he had a last minute thing, that he forgot he had scheduled something else, no longer surprising Rina when they showed up on her phone. At one point, they hadn’t seen each other for three months, during which Rina had more than once wondered if they had broken up. But at the end, Jules had showed up to her apartment with an apology and take-out dinner, a confirmation that they were in fact still together.

Rina began to devote more of herself to her job as an online book reviewer, staying up late at night typing into the blue glow of her computer screen.

One night, Jules was over at her apartment, watching the Late Night show while Rina sat beside him on the couch, flipping through a copy of Thomas Hardy’s Under the Greenwood Tree.

“Rina, why don’t you put that book down and rest a bit?” Jules said, not taking his eyes off the television screen.

“It’s fine, I’m just reading for fun.”

“No one reads for fun,” Jules had said dismissively.

From then on, Jules would act with increasing disdain whenever Rina was around him with a book in hand. At one point, he questioned the validity of her job, saying that book reviews were useless, that there were better things to do than to sit around writing about novels on the internet. This led to their first argument, Rina accusing him of having a superiority complex, pushing him out into the carpeted hallway corridor and slamming the door behind him. She had gone to bed that night vowing to break up with him, but when he showed up at her door early the next morning, she knew it wouldn’t happen.

Though he no longer appealed to her the way he first had in their friend’s cramped apartment, because she couldn’t quite come up with a good enough reason as to why they should break up, she continued to be his girlfriend, becoming increasingly blind to the things that bothered her.

Now, they stand together but slightly apart in the entrance of the restaurant Jules has chosen, waiting for the waiter to take them to their seats. Rina feels the growing urge to sit down, her legs feeling weary, and is relieved to see the waiter approaching them. 

“Sorry for the wait, miss. Right now the tables for two are all taken, but there is a communal table ready. Is that okay?”

“A communal table?” Rina asks.

“Yes, you’ll be seated next to other people.”

“That’s fine,” Jules says to Rina’s surprise, “I’m starving.”

They follow the waiter, weaving through a maze of round tables that host people dining on creamy plates of pasta and risotto. They reach a long table made of oak, where a group of people are already seated, enjoying their food and each other’s company. Rina sees a woman in dark red lipstick twisting her fork into her pasta, a pair of silver studs sparkling in her ears. Rina and Jules are seated at the edge of the table. Rina sits down across from Jules and next to a stranger, a man wearing a navy polo shirt and heavy cologne. Sitting across from the man is a woman who looks to be around Rina’s age, her long sand-colored hair covering the front of her silk blouse.

Rina and Jules spend a few minutes leafing through the menu and when their order is placed, a silence falls between them, a silence exclusive to the pair. The rest of the table is bustling with conversation, to the point where Rina could barely hear herself think. 

“I’m glad we came here, the food looks good,” Rina says to Jules.

“What?” Jules leans forward.

“I said the food looks good,” Rina says, louder.

Jules nods.

When their food arrives, Rina eyes the baked gnocchi placed in front of her, almost dwarfed by the size of the porcelain plate. If she were alone, she would have ordered something else, perhaps gone somewhere else to eat altogether; she would have preferred to eat at the Chinese restaurant down the block and fill her stomach with dry hot pot and black tea. But instead she finds herself taking small bites of this doughy potato, sitting in front of a person who is picking at his own food disapprovingly, his boredom evident.

She takes another bite of her gnocchi, and listens as the man next to her talks enthusiastically.

“It was amazing, the weather, the food, everything,” He continues saying.

Rina wonders to herself where it is that the man is referring to, and as if he had read her mind, he says, “Man, I’d love to go to Boston again.”

The woman in front of him says something to him, indistinct to Rina’s ear. The man laughs, and replies, “Of course I brought my Hardy and Marcuse books.”

The mention of her favorite author rings in Rina’s ear like a familiar tune, and to her own surprise, she turns to the man and asks, “Do you mean Thomas Hardy?”

Returning her gaze, he answers, “Yes, Thomas Hardy. Are you a fan as well?”

“Yes, I actually wrote my college thesis about his work.”

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

The woman in front of him leans forward and says in a raised voice, “He’s a bookworm, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I am too,” Rina says, laughing along with her. “I kind of have to be since I write book reviews.”

The man raises his eyebrows, a smile forming on his lips. He asks about her job, taking immediate interest in her despite their being complete strangers, despite their respective dates sitting with them. Jules resumes pulling apart his food, and the woman next to him, beginning to lose interest, pulls out her phone and begins scrolling.

Near the end of their meal, Rina excuses herself from the table to use the restroom. When she comes out, she is surprised to see the man leaning on the other end of the wall, waiting. When she approaches him, he hands her a slip of lined paper, adding, “I have to get going now but give me a call sometime.” He turns and walks away from her, disappearing from her view.

Rina looks down at the slip in her hand, containing a row of numbers and a name written hastily beneath it.