Henry & Me: A hilarious feel-good romantic comedy

I feel like shit.

No surprises there.

To make matters worse, I’m getting drunk alone in a bar. Wonder who’s gonna take me home. Ji-ae will kill me if I call her now, and Coop will ask me a million and one questions before he drags his lazy ass into a subway and gets here.

Three cocktails went down easy. I didn’t feel a thing. Now the blue liquid in the fourth glass is talking philosophy to me. Yeah, I hear drinks talk when I’m drunk. One of my eccentricities.

Love is a battle and the one you’re fighting is yourself.

Alcohol’s got wisdom, I’ll give it that, but I don’t understand what it’s trying to say. Never mind. I’ll continue with my flashback.

Soon after breaking up with Henry (weird word) I bugged out. The non-existent gods I’ve been praying to listened to my prayers, because I didn’t see Henry again at the airport. The moment the aircraft’s wheels hit the runway, I bolted for the nearest bar with my luggage. I was in no mood to go home and face my brother and sister-in-law.

I slam my fist on the counter. Crowd’s thin at the bar, but music’s loud. I’m the only one here. It’s six pm; too early to drink.

Anyway…

After Henry bent backwards to accommodate my sexual problems, I should’ve at least tried to be nice about it. But I was too scared. I can’t adequately describe what came over me this morning, but it was something very real. That’s my perennial excuse—fear. Recently it’s beginning to disgust me, though. I feel like breaking through these walls I’ve built and taking a chance.

That’s easier said than done. Why should I? Dating hasn’t necessarily been a great experience for me so far. During my one year of singlehood, I breathed easy and experienced a freedom that I had never experienced before. I relished living without having to feel inadequate or frustrated because I couldn’t please someone else. Without a doubt, I’m in no hurry to return to that state again.

I’m so invested in thinking about the scary future that I don’t have a present.

Despite my demeanor, I’m a very insecure woman. If I couldn’t live up to Henry’s expectations, I’d feel terrible and berate myself. And then I’d break up with him. So in any case, this won’t last long.

I’m just saving both of us heartache.

Yes, I’m doing the right thing.

After the next glass, I will have hopefully convinced my heart, too.

*

“Hey, Maxie, back already?” Coop’s cheerful voice pounds my head as he welcomes me back. Adjacent to him, I spy Ji-ae on the couch. Gordon Ramsay is demonstrating how to make berry tart on TV.

“Whaddaya mean ‘back already’?” I throw my bags on the floor, slurring dangerously. “I said I’ll be back on Sunday.”

“We figured Henry’s company might keep you in LA longer,” Ji-ae chimes in.

Her body is tucked snugly under Coop’s arm; they present the perfect portrait of blissful marriage. Right now, that really gets on my raw nerves. How can she be so comfortable around a man…how can I not?

Frustrated at myself, I sourly drag my luggage to my room, slapping the door shut with a bang. That bang does my head in. Burying myself in downy pillows, I inhale and exhale deeply, feeling ashamed, overwhelmed, guilty, and mad at the same time. The thought of screaming crosses my mind, but I don’t want to startle Coop.

“You okay, sister?” Coop yells, likely because of the way I slammed the door. I yell back, asking him to stop worrying.

In movies, the drunk girl’s always talking nonsense, not even able to walk properly, but I’m pretty clearheaded when I’m drunk.

Although I bungled everything badly, I don’t feel scared or uncomfortable about going to work tomorrow or anything. Henry will not hold what happened in LA against me because he’s not petty like that. It’s like I have a free pass at hurting him, and there are no consequences. God help me, I take enough advantage of his niceness as it is.

Twice he’s gathered the courage to ask me out and twice I’ve rejected him flat-out. He pretends to be unaffected on the outside, but his confidence must be in pieces. I wish I could do something for him (yeah, I realize how hypocritical this sounds), but I didn’t want to hurt him, just like I don’t want to be the way I am. But in some matters, I have no choice.

A knock filters into my ears, pushing me to my feet.

“Come in,” I mumble, desperate for some company. I’ll go mad if left alone with my murderous thoughts.

Ji-ae drifts in like a waif, her pajama pants too wide on her slim legs. Her skin’s more radiant than I remember it being when I left. I sure hope she took advantage of my absence to salvage her sex life.

“Something happened,” she asks me—no, tells me—her curiosity peeking through her tightly held expression. “You’re upset. And very drunk.”

I veto the idea of launching into the story of the evil casting director or describing the marvelous sex I had with Henry.

Instead, I opt for a super-standard answer, the reigning king of all excuses: “The flight was delayed.”

“And that’s what drove you to drink?”

“No…that wasn’t the cause.”

Ji-ae rolls back her bony shoulders. “Listen…I’m here if you need any help. Or just want a sympathetic ear. But be warned, I have a hard time keeping my opinions to myself.”

She hangs on, waiting for me to say something. Unable to speak yet, I indicate her to the spot on the bed beside me. Soundlessly, she lands on it, ruffling the bedsheet. I’m bitten by the strong urge to hug her, but I’ve never done something like that before. I don’t want to creep her out.

“So—” She splays her fingers over my thighs and I all but jump.

Guess my intimacy issues extend to both sexes. That’s discouraging.

“How did you feel when Coop first asked you out?” I mask my alarm, crossing one foot over the other.

Honestly, it’s not that I’m not comfortable with Ji-ae’s hand on my thigh, but she did it so suddenly that I was taken aback for a second. In that second I imagined the worst; it didn’t matter that none of those scenarios were likely to happen. My mind had sent itself into a flurry already.

Ji-ae’s breath whistles out from between her teeth. “What’s bringing this on? Henry and you had a falling out?”

Impressed by her deduction, I scratch my head.

“We were never together to have a falling out,” I say quickly. “But answer my question.”

She stalls for a second. Then her shoulders relax.

“When Coop asked me out…I was flustered. My parents are first generation, so they’re pretty conservative. I’d never dated a non-Korean before. But I stepped out of my comfort zone and went out with him. Without a doubt, it’s the best risk I ever took.”

“I didn’t know that,” I mutter, mostly to myself. “Did you guys have any problems along the way? Any hurdles?”

“Why’re you so interested in us all of a sudden? Are you planning to write a book on us?”

A spot of pain radiates from the center of my head, so I start massaging it.

“I want to know. You guys are my role models. I want to understand your struggles.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” Ji-ae narrows her eyes. “Give me a straight answer. What happened?”

“There were some problems…that I don’t feel like talking about.” I inch away from her. “Tell me your story. I want to understand how other people deal with struggles.”

Grabbing the Rubik’s cube on my bedside, Ji-ae twists it. “Our struggles…let’s see. Our first problem was getting my parents to accept him as their son-in-law. It was really hard. Changing the mind of two obstinate people is never easy. But we tried our best. Coop read up on Korean customs, bought gifts to placate them, even performed a Korean folk song for them. But my parents still didn’t come around.”

“So how did you change their mind?”

I’m totally invested in this story now. Tone-deaf Coop singing a Korean folk song? That must’ve been hilarious. Ji-ae’s poor parents. I hope their ears have recovered.

“He was crestfallen. So was I. We were at our wits’ end. But we kept at it, and slowly but surely he managed to win my parents’ hearts. The more they saw him, the more they understood him, and the more they loved him. In the end, it’s all down to persistence.”

One side of my head feels heavy. What’s with this stupid headache?

“It must’ve been hard to persevere when you were so discouraged,” I say.

I mean, look at me. I’ve already waved the white flag.

Gently Ji-ae gives me a head massage. “You need motivation to overcome hurdles…and that motivation doesn’t come from being loved by another person. It comes from wanting to love another person. That desire will push you to carry on.”

I never noticed that there was such a hardness to her face. She always appeared soft and fragile to me.

“I’m glad you guys are together. You make each other happy.”

“We do. Most of the time, at least.” Then she adds, “It’s not an easy or short path to getting here, though. It’s something that must be worked on every day. But as we collect experiences together, our bond grows stronger.”

“That makes sense,” I mutter under my breath.

To my present self, where they are feels like oceans away. Living a content and peaceful life with the one you love isn’t a cakewalk.

Even a seemingly ‘perfect’ couple like Ji-ae and Coop have been through their share of struggles. Struggles come in different forms—Henry’s and mine will be different from Ji-ae and Coop’s—but maybe overcoming struggles is what makes love meaningful.

And to the question of whether I want to love Henry: I do. More than anything, even though I am incapable of it, I want to love Henry the way he should be loved: completely, wholly, devotedly without reservation.

Am I willing to persist in loving him?

I think I am.

I latch onto Ji-ae’s long-sleeved tee. “Thanks for telling me about your experience. I’m glad you guys had a happy ending.”

“Happy endings must be worked at constantly. This new business thing has been taking a toll on our relationship of late, but I think we’ll get through it. We always do.”

“Plus, having me here throwing a wrench in your couple time doesn’t help.”

Ji-ae doesn’t respond to that. Diplomatic, I see.

“Do you want to complain about Coop to me?” I ask. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

She spreads her hands in a helpless way. “Coop missed the tax filing deadline again. I’ve told him a thousand times to write it down, but does he ever listen to me? I’ll go nag him again now.”

I laugh loudly. Petty conflicts…I guess there’s no dearth of them in any relationship.

But despite it all, Ji-ae and Coop’s love feels so real. It’s ever changing. Wherever they started out, they’re here now. It gives me hope that one day I’ll be able to grow and evolve through loving someone, too, and I’ll be able to share my journey with someone.

With Henry.

*

“Max? Is something up? Why’re you calling in the middle of the night?” Henry asks from the other side of the phone.

After being motivated by Ji-ae’s words, I decided to call and apologize. Of course, I’m not going to start dating him. Not yet. I want to reach a better place emotionally before I am ready to tell him that. I don’t suspect it will take very long.

“I wanted to apologize…about what I said in Los Angeles. It was…I didn’t mean any of it.” I cup my hands over my mouth to amplify my voice.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t take it personally.” His tone is uncharacteristically cold and distant. “Just another rejection, right?”

I breathe hard into the phone, pulse drumming like a marching band. “I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you. I sorta broke down. I was really frustrated with my helplessness. I can’t control anything, not even my own feelings, and that drives me insane sometimes.”

“You can talk about it, you know.” An audible gulp must have traveled down his throat; it registers as a glug on the phone line. “To me. If you want to.”

“It’s okay; I don’t want to drown you in my negativity.” I release a hollow laugh.

“But I want to understand you, Max. I want to understand what you’re going through. The first principle in science is to understand something before drawing conclusions about it. I failed to do that last time. No wonder you were so upset.”

“As I said…it’s not your fault. My feelings…they’re chaotic. I’m still trying to make sense of everything. So please give me time…and don’t wait for me.”

There’s a long pause on both ends of the line. I could have easily said that I love him, or that I’ll date him, but I don’t have a plan for how I’m going to get better. Without a plan, I don’t want to feed him false hope. And I also don’t want to keep him tied to me with the promise of nothing real.

“Understood,” he mutters at the end of the drawn-out pause.

I drop my eyelids in relief. “And I never got to thank you properly for helping me in LA.”

Henry mutters a nonchalant, “Mmmm.”

“I haven’t heard back on my auditions yet, but I have a good feeling. I’ll let you know if things work out.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. So…see you on Monday morning?”

“Definitely. Bye. Goodnight.”

See? That wasn’t so bad. But that’s not the entirety of my plan. Because what I need is not Henry’s forgiveness.

What I need is his love.

*

It’s Monday again. Which means I need to go to work. Getting out of the crowded subway train, I trot towards the house that I now love and recognize like the back of my own hand.

Before, I used to find the predictable flow of Monday after Sunday tedious, but Monday has officially become my favorite day of the week. Because Monday is when I get to see Henry after two days of not seeing him. And whatever happens, I can be sure that I’ll see him on Monday.

“Hey, good morning,” he drawls, rubbing his sleepy eyes, stifling a yawn.

“Good morning,” I counter perkily, rejuvenated after a weekend of Ji-ae’s hangover remedy.

Henry disappears into the bathroom and I automatically reach for the eggs in the fridge. Apart from Monday, the other thing that I am super grateful for is routine. It makes everything fall into place so easily.

Going through the motions, I cook up my usual storm in the kitchen. Breakfast always consists of the same things, but today I prepare them with extra love and care, adding little flourishes and seasonings that I don’t usually.

Henry returns from the shower with wet hair, smelling like the stuff of my dreams (which he is, by the way).

“How’re you feeling today?” I ask, because I’m desperate to make small talk and convince myself that he doesn’t hate me after I rejected him.

“Fine. How’re you feeling?” He’s turned on his poker face, and it’s an impregnable fortress.

I wonder what’s caused him to retreat back into his shell.

“I feel amazing! Glad to be back to work.”

Usually, we turn on the music at this point, and talk about various topics. But today, there’s neither music nor conversation, only silence.

He finishes breakfast, and seizes his laptop and work stuff.

“Um…” His jaw is stiff, as he waits to get my attention. “I got the health examination.”

Oh, the examination Emilia asked him to get. Of course.

“What did the doctors say?” I lean over the island, trying to get closer to him.

Inside, I’m worried that it may be something horrible, but I can’t read his poker face, so I have no clue whether he’s sad, annoyed, angry, happy, or depressed. Crossing my fingers, I pray it’s not news of a cancerous tumor.

“They said it’s nothing. Only muscle pain,” he reveals in a flat tone.

“Really?”

He’s not gleeful enough for someone who found out he doesn’t have cancer.

“Man, it was a relief. I was so sure they were going to find something. Turns out my fears were unfounded.” He lifts his lips in a wry smile. “Maybe yours are, too.”

Bustling out of the apartment, he leaves me alone to ponder the meaning of those words.

*

I used to like Sundays before I moved in with my brother. Although they aren’t like Saturdays, when I can get up late and sleep late, and most places are open for fewer hours on Sundays, I still liked them.

Not anymore.

Sundays are now officially the most dreaded day of my week. It’s the day I have to get up early and help Coop clean the house. That means backbreaking vacuuming, dusting, bathroom cleaning, laundry, and a whole host of activities that I hate doing even when I’m paid to do them.

But I have no choice. It’s how I pay rent to Coop. Ji-ae loves cooking but hates cleaning, so cleaning was Coop’s job, and since Coop also hates cleaning, it’s now my job.

Stretching my arm, I reach the back of the lampshade and fight the dust bunnies lodged behind it. I didn’t clean last week because I was off to LA. A lot of dust has accumulated in my absence.

“You look gloomy these days, Maxie,” Coop remarks, curled on the couch, watching soccer. “What’s taken the wind out of your sails?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about whether you believe me or not,” I shoot.

Throwing all the clutter off the coffee table, I wipe it down with Lysol. Really, Coop should do something about his habit of accumulating stuff on the coffee table. There is a cup with the Starbucks logo that has been here since before the day I left for LA. I drop it in the dustbin.

“Something’s definitely up. You’re angry.” Coop straightens himself. “C’mon, Maxie. Tell me. Problems at work?”

“No.”

“Problems with Henry?”

I hesitate. “No.”

The gray of Coop’s eyes darkens. “Is he trying to make a move on you?”

“No, he’s not,” I say emphatically. “And why are you worried about me anyway?”

“Because I’m your brother. It’s my job.”

I feel anger rising within me. Dropping the Lysol on the table, I huff at him. These days, everybody seems to get on my nerves. I’m way too easily irritated.

“I don’t need you to protect me or worry about me. I can take care of myself,” I tell Coop.

He glugs Coke from the can in his hand and then sets it back on the coffee table. The coffee table I just cleaned.

“I’m not trying to protect you; I’m trying to help you. We both know you’re not as good as I am when it comes to relationships with the opposite sex.”

“What does that even mean?”

He shrugs. “You have a way of choosing losers.”

“Are you calling Henry a loser?” My voice rises sharply.

“Nope. He’s not the usual loser type you attract. Maybe that’s why you’re not together.”

This wounds my ego. Henry and I are not such an unlikely match.

“He asked me, you know, but I turned him down.”

“You have terrible judgment,” comes his instant reply. “And you’re scared of niceness. It makes you feel vulnerable.”

“I’m not!”

“Third grade, when Ching did your homework for you and he gave you free food from his parents’ Chinese restaurant, you totally freaked out and avoided him for the rest of the year. And in high school, you had a really nice friend called Melissa. Remember her? She’d help you with SATs, but you broke up with her for no reason.”

“Well…that was because Ching and Melissa weren’t popular in school and I didn’t want to associate with anybody who wasn’t popular.” I wave my hands. “I don’t think that way anymore.”

It’s the truth. I’ve changed. I recognize the value of niceness now. And I have never blamed my misery on Henry. It’s my own problem.

“Then what’s the excuse this time?”

“Nothing,” I reply. “So shut up.”

Coop groans. “Maxie, you need to sort out your life.”

“I will.” My eyes instinctively move towards my bag that’s in front of the door.

Inside that bag is my first step towards improving my life. The other day, I called a helpline for people with psychological issues and enrolled for a group counseling session for people with intimacy issues. I found it through Meetup.com and it was only five bucks, so I thought I’d give it a go.

It’s this evening. I’m a little scared to go. Revealing my battles with intimacy to a group of strangers is not an appealing prospect, but I think I can learn from their experiences. I will go with an open mind. For Henry’s sake, but more so for mine, I have to do this.

Cleaning drags on for two more hours. Henry’s house is a lot bigger than Coop’s but trust me, it takes longer to clean this place. Just as I’m stuffing the vacuum cleaner back into the closet, Ji-ae screams.

Racing out of her room, she comes straight at me.

“Honey, what happened?” Alarmed, Coop peels himself away from the soccer game.

Ji-ae doesn’t waste any time pulling me into a hug.

“You did it!” she screams in my ear, nearly deafening me. Her hands rest on the crown of my head. “You got the role!”

“What?”

“You left your email open on the computer and since I needed to check my email, I was going to log out but then I saw an email and I opened it. Sorry.”

My heart pounds a steady drumbeat in my ears as my skin grows hot. I need to see it. I need to see the email.

“Which role was it?” Grabbing Ji-ae’s shoulders, I give her a shake.

She looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I didn’t check. But the email’s still open.”

No more words are needed. I tear to her bedroom and scan the email with adrenaline flooding my system.

As soon as I see who is the email is from, I break into a happy dance, jumping, screaming, unable to contain the overwhelming joy that’s pelting me. Coop and Ji-ae watch me from the doorway with twin happy grins.

“I will make tiramisu for dessert today,” Ji-ae announces, clapping her hands together. She gets to work immediately.

“Congratulations, Maxie.” Coop pats my back. “You did it.”

“Yeah…”

It still seems surreal to me. But the email stares at me, unblinking. It’s a callback, which technically means I haven’t been chosen for the role yet, but I can feel it inside me. This role is mine.

I leap into the air again and shout, “You did it!” over and over again. After years of hard work my time has come. Endless obstacles, mediocre roles, frustrations, abusive boyfriends, living on instant noodles…that’s all behind me now. This is the sweetest feeling in the world…the feeling of triumph. Of being recognized after trials and tribulations.

And the role I’ve bagged is the one I coveted, the one I thought I would never get in a million years because of Rob. But it’s mine now.

Nobody can take this away from me.

And it’s all thanks to Henry, who gave me the opportunity to audition again.

Oh, I need to tell him. Swiveling around, I start to look for my phone to call him, but change my mind, remembering the session I have planned this evening.

I will wait and give him even better news later.