No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Twenty-One

The gruff, deep voice belongs to a man in his forties. He's sitting on the couch while I'm on a fold-able chair across the coffee table, where a variety of little paintings decorate the surface. He's getting streaks of grey in his hair, whereas his full beard is still jet-black. The suit he's still wearing from work is wrinkled and missing the professional jacket that comes with it.

The last thing I notice are the eyes, where the laugh wrinkles are deep. Instead of smiling or laughing, he's staring at me the way I'm staring back. Noticing whatever details he sees, and hopefully not judging those details.

"It's nice to meet you," I stammer.

Aspen's dad nods. "It's nice to get an image behind the same name my daughter's been repeating lately."

"I can hear you," Aspen calls from her workroom. "I've brought her up twice. It's not as if I was rambling on about new artists once every couple days."

It was clear she was talking about the paintings.

Her dad responds -- in Korean -- with an accusation.

"Fine. I'll leave your obsession alone," Aspen says. "Make some small talk with Niamh."

He looks up in slight exasperation at his kid. I would have laughed if I haven't been busy dodging landmines in the field of 'talking to an adult you don't know at all but want to impress'.

He stares at me again. And then down. "I will say I didn't expect the socks," he tells me.

Today's an octopus and pizza mismatch. "Oh, yeah. It's my thing."

Nodding again, he responds, "Just like Aspen has her 'thing' with the coasters."

"I've been wondering about them," I say earnestly.

"That makes two of us."

I let myself laugh, rather a little awkwardly. Because I don't have anything else worth saying, I keep silent.

Aspen comes out after finishing up the latest IDs. At the same time her dad stands up. I keep myself staring at the paintings as they converse in the language again. From how he seems to be always asking and she's giving short answers, I have to assume it's the usual parental check-up. I try not to guess more into their conversation.

"Niamh," she calls all of the sudden.

I whip my head towards her and stand up fast. Colorful fog dances across my eyes as I get over the shock of moving too quick. "Uh, yeah? I'm here."

She laughs. "What do you think about hanging outside?" Her dad's in the kitchen with another painting.

With a shrug, I say, "I'm okay with it."

"Great. Give me a minute and we'll go."

Aspen disappears into another room. Like she said, she pops out a minute later with the parka-dotted jacket. To be honest, the jacket -- and the leather ankle boots she's putting on -- doesn't match with the yoga pants and flower dress. It's how comfortable she looks that gets me.

We leave the apartment once her dad confirms she's coming back before ten. 

"Where are we going?" I ask her as we leave the complex.

"Hell," she says, to my surprise. "I need someone at my side until I'm at the gates."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I took ventriloquist lessons."

She raises an eyebrow. A corner of her mouth is quirked up. "Oh, so you're the dark one then?"

"Usually. No one would believe the cute girl in a flower dress would take that side," I state.