Winter was Roseanne's favorite time of the year. She enjoyed seeing the holiday decorations start to appear all over the city, and waiting for the first snowfall of the year. It was the only time of year when Roseanne felt hopeful, as though change – the good kind of change – was right around the corner, if only she was patient enough to wait for it. It was a time of giving, of caring, of wiping the slate clean and starting over.
Winter, however, also meant that the bulk of Roseanne's art would sit in a corner of her bedroom, taking up room and going nowhere. Though her father's faithful checks paid for the majority of Roseanne's bills and expenses, she still appreciated the extra cash that came from doing something on her own. It was for that reason that she'd spent the afternoon circling job openings in the newspaper.
Her morning had been spent in front of her easel, trying her hand at something artistic for the first time in weeks. The end result had been better than she'd expected. Good enough, in fact, to join the pile of paintings waiting to be sold. But in the end, that's not where she put it. In the end, she put it to the side, thinking that perhaps someday it might make a good gift for Jane.
She'd found it a strange thought at first, painting something and thinking of Jane when she was finished, but she decided to go with it. Who was she to question inspiration?
She stared down at the newspaper and the many red circles she'd placed upon the page. The other nice thing about the holidays was the surplus of job openings.
"How's the job hunt going?" Lisa asked, suddenly stepping into view.
"Retail by the pound," Roseanne said.
"Ooh, joy." Lisa poured coffee into a mug and leaned against the counter as she sipped.
Roseanne glanced at the time on the microwave and arched an eyebrow. "Did you just wake up?"
"Indeed."
"It's three."
Lisa nodded as if it was perfect normal. "I was on the phone until late."
"Oh?"
"Jinyoung called."
"Jinyoung..."
"The porn star."
Roseanne laughed. "He has a name now?"
"He's actually really deep. I wasn't expecting that. You know he's just doing the porn stuff to put himself through med school?"
"What happens when one of his patients finds a video of him?"
Lisa smiled. "He refuses to tape his face. See? He's thought ahead. He's a smart boy. He also does escort services on the side. I would totally do that if I was a guy. Get paid hundreds of dollars an hour to accompany an old rich lady to the opera or something. Men are so lucky."
"Maybe I should get a job doing something like that," Roseanne said thoughtfully. "I'm sure there's some old rich men who'd like a young woman by their side in public."
"Sure. And it's not like you couldn't outrun them if they tried to get frisky." Roseanne nodded as if seriously contemplating the option. "Well, that solves my job problem."
"Great. So, listen, I have awesome news." Lisa pushed several newspapers to the side and sat down at the table.
Roseanne perked up. "Oh? I could do with awesome news. Lay it on me."
"Well, it turns out that Jinyoung's sister has a friend whose brother is seriously a V.I.P. in the theater world, and the brother is also sort of friends with Jinyoung's sister so he tells her stuff, and then she tells Jinyoung stuff."
"I'm going to pretend I got all that."
"It's not important. So, anyway, he told Jinyoung's sister that the Santivell Theater is hosting a series of semi-open call auditions. There's going to be a bunch of different directors there. And it's all pretty upscale. So basically, to find out about it, you have to either be someone in the know, or know someone in the know, or ... well, you get the idea. It's not being advertised in public channels. So basically, the cream of the crop of desperate New York actors are going to be there." Lisa smiled brightly.
"I'm guessing that includes you?"
"Hell yeah. Jinyoung told me as long as you know where and when it is, you're set."
"That's really great, Lisa," Roseanne said, grinning.
"And of course you're coming with me."
"And why would I do that?"
"Uh, let's see ... moral support? And because you're my lucky charm. Every play I ever got, you were at the audition."
"That's so not true."
"It's mostly true."
"Fine. When is this little shindig, so I can clear my totally busy schedule."
"In two weeks. December 16th. Noon. Santivell Theater."
"Done."
Lisa bounced in her chair. "I can't wait. You know, Jinyoung said there might even be some movie directors there. Can you imagine?"
Roseanne smiled at her best friend's enthusiasm. Lisa had the talent, the looks, and the ambition. All she needed was the right person to see her at the right time. Maybe this would be Lisa's big chance.
Secretly, she hoped her own big chance would come soon too, as she stared down at the assortment of depressing red circles. She grabbed the phone receiver and clicked it on. "Time to schedule some interviews."
-
Winter always reminded Jennie of what she'd lost. She couldn't remember a single Christmas from when her mother had been alive, but she liked to believe that they had been happy times. She liked to think that her father, back then, had been a better person, less of a work-a-holic, someone devoted to both wife and child. Her grandmother would have been there, too. The family mansion would have been lit with Holiday cheer and decorations, instead of the cold, depressing house it had become.
The Christmases Jennie could remember hadn't been all bad, yet her memories weren't particularly good. Her father had been absent for a few of them, leaving her in the company of Dara and Yeji. Her grandmother, who resided in the guesthouse, always stayed away on Christmas mornings. Jennie suspected that Christmas, for her grandmother, was difficult. She had both a daughter and a husband to mourn, and her own happy memories to revisit in private.
Jennie would sneak off to visit later in the day. They would have dinner and talk about Jennie's gifts. Her grandmother would give her something. Always just one thing, despite her endless amounts of money. Her grandmother's presents were always Jennie's favorite, no matter how many others had come in the day.
The last Christmas Jennie got to spend with her grandmother, her gift had been an ankle bracelet. Jennie had put it on the moment she'd received it and not taken it off until the day her grandmother died. That day, she took it off. That day, she twirled it around in her hand and found, for the first time, the inscription: "Action is the antidote to despair."
Joan Baez. Jennie had always liked that quote, and it pained her that she'd not known the inscription was there, and that her grandmother had watched her put the ankle bracelet on, and not said anything.
On this particular morning, Jennie had removed the piece of jewelry from the box she kept it in and held it in her hand the entire ride to the cemetery. Every month, when she could, Jennie made the same trek. It had once been her grandmother's ritual, and one that Jennie had always looked forward to. Hand in hand, they would walk to her mother's tombstone, lay flowers, and pay respects in their individual ways.
But this day, Jennie walked alone, letting the small drops of rain drip down the lengths of her long, leather jacket. She clutched, in her right hand, the ankle bracelet she had yet to put back on. In her left, she carried a bouquet of pink roses, her mother's favorite.
The cemetery was free of wandering mourners or grounds keepers and Jennie was grateful for the privacy as she walked along the rows of tombstones towards her own dearly departed.
At her mother's grave, she kneeled, not caring that the grass was moist. She placed the flowers gently below the name Jennie Kim, and stood back up. Her grandmother's gravestone was beside her mother's. From her pocket, she withdrew a puzzle piece. It was part of the last jigsaw puzzle they'd been building together; the one left unfinished. She put the piece on top of the grave and moved away.
Into the cool morning air, still wet despite the sudden lack of rain, she sighed, and pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. "I'm sorry I couldn't visit last month," she said in a near whisper. "I'm sure you know I had some crazy filming hours. I think it's going well, though, this season of Guardian. They changed a few of the writers and I think that's helped." She looked at the ground. "Jisoo and Kai are dating, which is nice. They're a good couple once you really think about it. I'm pretty sure they'll have one of those relationships filled with bickering and stupid fights. They're both so stubborn and ridiculous." She smiled. "But they're good for each other."
The sound of a bird flying over head caught Jennie's attention for a moment. She watched it until it flew out of sight, then turned back. "I took the lead in a lesbian movie. I'm not at all sure how you'd feel about that, but I like to think you'd be okay with it. I like to think you'd be okay with everything. With me." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, grandma, that I never told you. I think I'd deal with it all a little better these days if you'd known, and told me what to do. I think I could use some of your wisdom."
She hesitated and said, "I have a penpal in New York. Well, I suppose it would be more of a keyboard pal ... or something. She's an artist. You'd both like her, I think. She seems sweet. The problem is that I'm lying to her, or at least, not so much lying as not really telling the whole truth, and I wish I knew what to do about that. I can't tell her who I am and I can't seem to stop replying to her e-mails, so ..." She shrugged. "I'm stuck."
The wind picked up, whipping strands of hair across her face. She moved them away, tucking them behind her ear and waited for the wind to pass. "I guess there's a part of me," she continued, once it had, "that thinks maybe someday I'll be able to tell her everything. Maybe someday I'll feel comfortable with her knowing who I am and trusting that she won't turn around and hurt me or blackmail me in some way. As much as I don't think she would do that, it's not a risk I'm willing to take right now. I don't know her well enough and she doesn't know me and ..." She paused, thinking things through. "I guess I hope that her knowing me, really knowing me, will help her forgive me, and not think differently of me once she knows who I am." She paused, shrugging. "Not that I really expect that to ever happen. Her not thinking differently of me, I mean."
The drizzling started again and Jennie looked up to find that the sky had darkened considerably. It would rain soon, but she went on, "And then there's the director of that film I agreed to do. We really hit it off, which is incredibly rare for me, and ... I caught her looking at me a lot when she thought I wasn't paying attention. Who knows what that means? Lots of people look at me, I guess. Not ... not to sound conceited." She sighed, feeling frustrated. "It's so hard to know how people feel or think or what it is they want. If she did like me ... not that I'm saying she does, but if she ever did ... and if I ever came to like her ... I think I would flee the first chance I got. I think I'd deny any form of attraction and go on with my life."
The wind got stronger, suddenly, pushing through the leaves of the trees. "What a sad life, though," she whispered. "I don't think you'd be proud of me, if you were alive to see me now. I know it, actually. But, I guess, if either of you were alive ... or if both of you were alive, I don't think I'd be so scared to lose the things I love. Acting is the one thing I have left. Why gamble with it?"
She opened her palm, watching the drops of rain land upon her skin. A drop hit the ankle bracelet, then another, briefly magnifying the word 'action' before sliding away. She closed her hand and put it back in her pocket. "I have to go," she said softly. "I'll try to come for Christmas."
The rain fell harder as she walked away. She didn't watch it drown the flowers or soak the piece of the puzzle she'd left behind.
-
Roseanne stared disdainfully at the blinking lights on her modem. She'd received Jane's email the day before, but her Internet connection had crashed in the process of her typing a new subject line. She'd waited patiently for it to return, as it usually did, but one day later, the lights still blinked randomly at her.
"Please come back," she pleaded. "I'll love you forever."
The modem didn't seem to care for her advances, and Roseanne was forced to give up staring at the thing and do something productive instead.
She dug her laptop case from beneath the bed and placed her computer inside. If the Internet wouldn't come to her, she would go to it. New York City was laden with free wi-fi spots, and Roseanne was confident that she'd find a spot in no time.
An hour and a half of walking around later, she finally parked herself on a table and booted up. She'd ordered a large coffee and a chocolate muffin, and it was delivered promptly by a guy in a blue apron. She thanked him and relaxed into the chair. Coffee and the Internet, what more could anyone want?
Smiling, she started up her email and watched the spam mail load into the junk folder. "Hey."
She heard the voice, but didn't look up right away, thinking that it hadn't been directed at her. But then it came again and she looked up to find Jaehyun staring down at her. His brown eyes sparkled as he smiled.
"I swear I'm not stalking you," he said. "I saw you when you were in line and just wanted to say hi."
"Hi," she said. She nodded at the cup in his hand. "Sustenance?"
He glanced at the cup and chuckled. "Yeah. Finals are going to be tough this semester. I'm going to be pulling a few all-nighters."
"Same here." She lifted her own cup by way of evidence. "I have four papers to write for one class. It's gotta be a form of torture, this whole college thing."
"Definitely." He smiled at her for a moment. "Well, it was nice running into you. I have to get back to my studio and get to work. See you around?"
"I'm sure." Roseanne smiled back and waved as he walked away. She watched him through the window until he crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd. Turning back to the computer, she saw that Jane had written again. Grinning, she opened the message.
To: R. Park
From: R. Jane
Subject: I can't sleep
Dear Rosie,
It's four in the morning over here, and I can't seem to fall asleep. I guess I, too, suffer from the Thoughts of Things I Can't Control Syndrome, and I was hoping you'd figured out a cure. It's likely you won't get this in time to help me, but I thought I'd try anyway.
Hope you're having a good [insert appropriate time of day here].
Your online friend, Jane
Roseanne smiled and hit reply.
To: R. Jane
From: R. Park
Subject: I hope you managed to sleep by now
Dear Jane,
I'm afraid I have no cure for you. Usually, I just stay up and let the thoughts run their course. Eventually, they leave me alone and I'm able to sleep. They (the ever-elusive, ever- mysterious 'They') say warm milk helps, but I've tried that, and I think They are full of crap.
I wanted to apologize for not writing back sooner. My stupid Internet decided to crash on me. I'll have to call the provider later (I hate dealing with those people), but for now I'm sitting in a café with free wi-fi. It's quite heavenly, actually. After I'm done procrastinating with you (don't you feel used?), I have about one million pages of literature to finish reading so I can then proceed to write two million pages about totally meaningless things regarding said literature. I exaggerate only slightly.
I have the next two days off from school, then a week and a half of finals, and then freedom for three glorious non-academic weeks. I plan to spend these weeks of freedom as a slave to corporate America (a.k.a. working retail). I went to a job interview earlier in the day and they hired me on the spot. I guess I look like the honest, hard-working type. That, or the holiday rush is starting and they're desperate.
Anyway, the other night I went out to a local bar with Lisa. The plan, I thought, was to have a good time by watching Lisa make a fool of herself. Instead, the whole thing turned out to be a set-up with a guy Lisa had been trying to introduce me to for a while now. He turned out to be pretty nice, actually, and what should've been a totally awkward situation didn't end up badly at all. Still, I told him that I wasn't ready to date anyone and he was nice enough to understand.
I ran into him a few minutes ago, actually. He happened to be here, too. New York feels really small when that sort of thing happens.
Even though I told him I wasn't ready for anything, I'm keeping the card he gave me. I think it's too rare nowadays to find people that don't instantly creep you out. It has to be a good sign, right? Maybe, after finals, I'll give him a call. Do you think that's a bad idea? Maybe it's too soon...
Oh, you'll be happy to know that I spent the morning painting. It had been a while, too long, really. It felt wonderful to step back and see something worth sharing. I'm holding on to it for now.
I'm looking forward to the time off from school. I'll be working part-time, just enough to get a little extra cash now that it's too cold to be selling my artwork in public. I had hoped to get some of my work in a showing of student pieces (it's a huge honor to be chosen), but I haven't heard anything yet.
Lisa told me I had to go the extra mile to be noticed, and I'm sure she's right, but that's not who I am. I don't want my art to be chosen because I was more memorable than everyone else. I want it to be chosen because it was memorable on its own. How will I ever gauge its true value if I don't let it stand on its own?
Is that naïve of me?
I guess it is. I guess I just want to be true to myself, above all things. While I want to succeed, I don't want it to be at the cost of who I am.
So... listen, I was wondering (and you're more than welcome to say no) if I could have your number so I could call you sometime? I felt bad that I had no way of letting you know my Internet was down. Not that I think you were losing sleep over that or anything. I just ... I don't know. I hate not having a way to communicate with someone. I picked up a new phone earlier with free night time and weekend minutes anywhere in the US. So it won't cost me anything to call you ...
Again, you're more than welcome to say no if you think it would be too weird, or an invasion of your privacy or ... anything like that. No hard feelings, I promise. :-)
Well, I'm afraid I must leave you now and get started on my work for finals. I hope the day finds you well.
Your friend, Rosie
-
"Call me?" Jennie frowned at the screen and moved away from it as though it might suddenly ring and put Roseanne' voice through. "She wants to call me? Why would she ever want to do that?"
She didn't reply to the email. Instead, she closed the laptop and sat back, pondering what to say. In all of her wildest imaginings, the thought of Roseanne suggesting to call her had never occurred to Jennie. She had pictured them sending emails back and forth for a long time to come, until one got tired of the other. There would be a natural progression toward the end of their communication. But a phone call?
The phone's sudden ringing made Jennie jump and she stared in dumb surprise at the object on her desk until it rang again. She picked it up and looked at the name and number on the display screen. Irene Bae.
On the third ring, she picked up. "Hello?"
"Hi, Jennie," came the director's voice.
"How are you today?"
It took Jennie a brief moment to remember that she'd given Irene her personal number before leaving the restaurant. Why she'd done that, Heaven knew. "I'm good, Irene. Yourself?"
"Well, I'm currently lost somewhere in West Hollywood, so I can't say I'm doing great. I'm supposed to meet with one of the producers and she gave me crappy instructions. Other than that, though, I'm wonderful."
Jennie smiled into the receiver, feeling somewhat reserved. Why was Irene calling? "I'm sorry to hear that. Well, not the part about being wonderful otherwise. Getting lost isn't fun."
"I'll find my way, don't worry. The reason I was calling was to ask how your schedule was looking for the rest of the month. I know it's Christmas and everything ..."
"It's pretty light this time of year, actually." Jennie's stepmother, sister and father were indeed spending the Holidays in Paris. She'd been reluctantly invited, and she had enthusiastically declined. If she was ever to go to Paris, it would be with someone she actually wanted to spend time with. Rosie would love the Louvre. The thought, however innocent, made her frown.
"Excellent. I know your lawyers are still going over the contract we sent their way and we haven't made anything official yet, but I was hoping you'd be able to accompany me to New York in a week or so."
Jennie's heart jumped in her chest. "New York?"
"Yeah. I'm doing some casting calls for the film and I was hoping you could be there to help me audition people for the role of Samantha. I'll have you back for Christmas, don't worry."
"Well, I'll have to verify with my assistant. She's the keeper of my time, but assuming I don't have anything pressing, I'd love to."
"Great! Well, you've got my number. Just have your assistant call if it's a go or not. We'll take care of your expenses and everything, so all you'll have to worry about is showing up."
"Sounds good. Good luck finding your way." Irene let out a soft laugh. "Thanks. Take care."
Jennie snapped the cell phone shut and sat there. New York. A week or so of passing by every twenty-something girl and wondering if that, by chance, was Roseanne. A week or so of trying to cast her fake lesbian lover, before ever finding a real one. A week or so of working closely with Irene Bae.
She flipped the phone open and dialed.
"Hey, I'm pulling into your driveway as we speak," Jisoo said when she picked up. "I got your dress for the party Friday night. Also, I called your blind date doctor and it turns out he'd love to go with you. So now you've even got a date. Now all you need are shoes and the desire to actually go."
Jennie smiled as she walked down the stairs to open the door for Jisoo. "At least the shoes will be easy enough," she said, as Jisoo came up the steps to the door. She hung up the phone and held the door open. "You're the best."
"Don't I know it." Jisoo headed up the stairs to hang the dress, and Jennie followed. "So what were you calling about?"
"Oh, I was wondering what my schedule is like for the rest of the month. Do I have anything important anywhere?"
Jisoo shrugged as she hung the dress. "You have eight thousand holiday party invitations, but that's about it."
"I'm going to the one on Friday just to show my face in public before Christmas, and then I'm done until New Year's. Make a note of that somewhere."
"Uh, I think I can remember you not wanting to do anything. What are you doing for Christmas Eve, anyway?"
Jennie shrugged. "I don't know. I thought I'd cook myself something and watch A Christmas Story for the billionth time. You?"
"Having dinner with Kai. You should join us."
"Don't you guys want to be alone?"
"On Christmas Eve? No way. Kai is cooking."
Jennie cringed. "Okay, never mind. How about you two come over here for dinner?"
Jisoo grinned. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm doing it for myself. Last time I had Kai's food I thought I was going to die."
"I don't know what the hell he uses as seasoning. Rat poison maybe."
Jennie laughed. "Hey, listen, Irene needs me in New York in a week or so. Can you call her back and arrange all of the ... arrangements?"
"New York?" Jisoo suddenly looked intrigued. "New York with Irene? New York with Irene and the artist?"
"It's not New York with Irene. She's doing casting calls. I'm going to help by standing next to random women and waiting for Irene to gauge our potential onscreen chemistry."
"That's hot. Can I watch?"
"Not a chance."
"I'll just ask Irene if I can watch when I call her back." Jisoo smiled sweetly. "What about the artist? Are you going to try and make contact?"
"Of course not. Our interactions are restricted to the Internet." She froze, remembering Roseanne's question about calling her. "Hey, what do you think of my voice over the phone? Do you think I'm easily recognizable?"
Jisoo blinked at her in confusion. "What?"
"Like, say you didn't have caller I.D. and I called you out of the blue, would you recognize my voice over the phone?"
"Of course."
Jennie frowned, then shook her head. "Yeah but you talk to me all of the time. I need someone who doesn't."
"You've totally lost me."
Jennie looked at Jisoo and shook her head. "Never mind. Don't you have shoes to find me?"
"Uh, no. I'm having Manuel bring you a fine selection of designer shoes. He'll be here in two hours."
Jennie sighed. Her fashion guru of choice was friendly and lovable but he would undoubtedly make her try on every pair of shoes in his selection. He'd be there forever. "Yay," she said flatly.
"Can I stay and watch you try on every pair of shoes in existence? I'm hoping he has extras he doesn't want."
Jennie sighed. "Yeah, sure." She looked at her computer briefly, recalling the unanswered email. "Jisoo, can you get me someone on the phone who's never spoken to me personally?"
"What is this about?"
"Can you just pretend I didn't ask something totally weird of you?"
"Not a chance."
Jennie smiled. "Then do it because it's your job."
Jisoo frowned at her, then flipped open her cell phone. "You're being entirely too cryptic lately. It's oddly intriguing." She put the phone to her ear. "It's ringing."
"Who are you calling?"
"My father."
Jennie started to protest but Jisoo interrupted her by saying, "Hi Daddy!" into the phone. "How are you? ... uh-huh ... uh-huh ... yeah ... I know, yeah ... uh-uh...yup. So, listen, there's someone here that wants to talk to you."
Jennie found herself with a phone pressed to her ear. Reluctantly, she took it, and cleared her throat. "Hello?"
"Hello? Who's this?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but by any chance, does my voice sound familiar to you?"
"Is this Jisoo? Jisoo? Can you please stop playing these stupid games. I told your brother the other day about my bad knee. Do you think I need you to play games with me when I have a bad knee ... do you? Answer me, young lady..."
His voice trailed away as Jennie removed the phone from her ear and handed it back to Jisoo.
"Sorry, Daddy. Talk to you soon. Kisses to mom." Jisoo hung up and smiled at Jennie. "That was incredibly awkward. And wrong."
"It really was. I found it terribly amusing."
Jisoo sat down on the bed. "So what was that all about?"
"Helloooo?" a male voice called from somewhere downstairs.
"Up here!" Jisoo called down.
A second later, Kai was standing in the doorway. He looked between Jisoo and Jennie for a long moment. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"Why yes," Jisoo said. "Jennie was just about to tell me why she just had me call up my Dad so she could ask him if he recognized her voice."
"Ooh, Cryptic Jennie is back, goody." Kai ran to the bed and bounced onto it. "Tell us more, Cryptic Jen."
"Wait!" Jisoo suddenly yelled. She turned and whispered something in Kai's ear.
He laughed. "I don't think so." He whispered something back.
Jisoo frowned. "You think?"
"Yup."
"Okay." Jisoo turned back to Jennie. "Go."
Jennie stared at them for a very long moment. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Yes!" Kai yelled, pumping his hand in the air. "I am so good. You owe me twenty."
"Damn it."
Jennie watched her assistant draw a twenty dollar bill from her wallet and hand it to Kai. "The two of you scare me, you really do."
"Is it about the artist?" Kai asked. "Last time Cryptic Jen emerged it was because of the artist."
This from Jisoo. "Is it?"
"Does she want to talk to you on the phone or something?"
"Ooooh! Does she?" Jisoo bounced up and down on the bed. "I'm sure she wouldn't recognize your voice. Even if she thought you sounded like Jennie Kim it's not like she'd really think it was you."
Kai was nodding. "And besides, it's not like you have a terribly out of the ordinary voice. Your voice is a normal, womanly voice."
"Sexy womanly voice."
"And I'm still not freaking out about comments like that."
"Your new shrink is a Godsend."
Jennie just looked at them. Without saying anything at all, she walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.