Jan 3, 2024
Miami
"Y qual tipo de ron quiere?"
Here on a patio under the light of a half moon while conversing in a language that he did not understand, Kim Mi-rae was an otherworldly creature.
Ji-pyeong watched, spellbound, as his wife studied the cocktail menu. She was wearing a slip of a silver sequined dress. His eyes traced the delicate line of her collarbone. The reflection of sequins dancing along her skin had invited him to do so. The bass line of the music just inside felt like a heartbeat pulsing through everything around them. Even the palm trees lit by multicolored spotlights swayed in concert with it.
Mi-rae looked up and smiled at the waitress.
"Una botella de Barbancourt Blanco, por favor. Gracias."
"Perfecto." The waitress nodded with that practiced approval bestowed in places like this. "En un momento."
Mi-rae folded the menu and then locked eyes with her husband as the waitress walked away. The dark crescent swings of her hair tilted to the right as red curved into a smile.
"What?"
Ji-pyeong played with the collar of his shirt for a moment. Then he leaned forward and decided to tell her exactly what he was thinking.
"I can't decide what's more attractive. The fact that my wife is a polygot or that she is wearing that dress."
Those red lips twitched in amusement. Then Mi-rae folded her bare arms onto the table and raised an eyebrow.
"Why not both?"
Ji-pyeong could not help but smile along with her as she struggled to keep a straight face. Then Mi-rae burst out laughing and looked away in embarrassment as she smoothed her hair.
"Well I picked up a little Spanish in LA. And then my father wouldn't let me get away with studying English when we went home because I was already fluent. I can talk to clients but I wouldn't trust myself to review documents."
Ji-pyeong rolled his eyes at her self-effacement.
"You never cease to amaze me." Then he nodded his chin at her with a sly smile. "Did you send a photo to Max yet? I should thank him for daring you to buy that."
The sequins shimmered in the candlelight as she surreptitiously pulled her chair closer to the table.
"I still can't believe I'm actually wearing this." Mi-rae glanced down as her hands fluttered over silver. "But a club in Miami is the only place where it would actually be appropriate."
Ji-pyeong chuckled as he leaned back and crossed a leg over his thigh. His eyes ticked down to the dress and back up to her face. He delighted in the way that her throat bobbed up and down as well as she shifted in her seat. Ji-pyeong folded his hands in his lap.
"There is nothing 'appropriate' about it. And that's why I love it."
Mi-rae grinned in spite of the blush flowering across her cheeks.
The waitress returned with a ceremonial flourish. They watched in silence as she carefully performed the ritual of muddling fresh mint, lime, and sugar together in a pair of highball glasses.The bottle of white rum was then opened with a solemn formality. Its contents and a dash of club soda were added to the muddled concoction over ice. A sprig of mint and a wedge of lime garnished their drinks just before the waitress turned to the next table of seated guests. Ji-pyeong raised his glass as he breathed in the salt air.
