Unspoken Connection

2. Introductions

The weekend passed and the Korean, uhm I mean Japanese guy never returned. I kept thinking that I insulted him. If Gyeongseong Creature is any indication of the history between the two nations then I’ve committed a grave offense. I doubt it’s that serious but I had hoped he would return. He had visited the bakery on Friday afternoon but he didn’t return on Saturday or Sunday and now it’s Wednesday afternoon.

‘Did he not like the pastry?’

‘I guess we’ll have to change the patisserie.’

Just then the familiar chiming of the bells caught my attention. My eyes widened and my breath quickened, before I could make the same mistake I said,

“Konnichiwa”

He replied with a nod. He was dressed more casually today. He wore gray sweatpants with a white sports shirt covering his neck and a black trench coat. I’m sure the note said he was Japanese but his style reminded me of the dressing in Korean dramas. The more I think about it, the more I realize that my perception is skewed because of excessive exposure to Korean entertainment.

He did the same as he did during his first visit, he started by scanning the available pastries already packaged and laid out on the tables throughout the store. He went through them all; cakes, cookies, breads, croissants, cupcakes before making his decision.

Today he ordered four Chocolate Cream Pies with three Strawberry Danishes and a Vanilla Danish. He had ordered two of each on his first visit, and now he is ordering four am I sensing a family? Am I crushing on someone’s father?! Am I teetering on the path of a homewrecker?

Oh dear Lord, please don’t make it be so.

Soon enough he was standing at the counter. Scanning his fingers I didn’t see a wedding ban or the outline of the wedding ban. He stood before the counter patiently waiting to be checked out. His eyes were focused on his phone; it had been for the majority of the time he had been in the store. Again, I took this time to admire the man in front of me. His dark brown eyes darted side to side with a sense of urgency making his eyes seem almost black, his eyes squinted as he tried to make out the smaller word on his phone. This made his intimidating presence seem less so and even cute.

He started tapping his fingers erratically against the marble countertop as he waited.

‘Not patient, noted’

I mentally noted his impatience, then I began to pack the last Danish as he looked up and handed me his card. I checked him out and handed his card back to him.

To my surprise, he turned his phone to me and it read,

[What’s your name?]

“Roxanne, What’s your name?” I answered and asked in return.

[You can call me Matt]

Before he could hurry away, I asked another question,

“How did you like the ones you got the last time?” I asked while pointing to the bag of pastries I was handing off to him.

[The kiddies loved them, alas, I’m here again.] he showed me the message while shaking his head from side to side.

‘Oh he has kids’

A phrase that I thought I had just kept in my mind and never said aloud but even then my face and body language echoed disappointment at the thought of this man having a family.

I have to be more mindful of controlling my responses to my internal dialogues; the slight frown that I sported at the thought of his family or the tension that started filling my body were all unwarranted reactions.

Thankfully he left without commenting on my mishap, that night after closing up the bakery I strolled home enjoying the evening night view. The moon perched high in the sky shone brightly as if it stood center stage amongst the stars as mere spectators to its brilliance. As I stood there burning it into my memory to draw when I got home I heard a loud beep and the next thing I knew I was on the ground. The last thing I heard was what sounded like people arguing and then an angered voice shouted,

“What the hell have you done ?!”