Quarantine Romance: Multicultural Romance During a Pandemic

by L. P. Guleva

  I sighed and checked the Discord server. Since I rarely went there, it threw me to a conversation from two days ago. I scrolled down until a new name made me pause and read.

  TomG: Hey, Laurie. I didn’t realize you were here.

  LaurieBell: I just joined. Is my teddy bear around?

  TomG: Matt only stops by in the evening. He’s keeping busy with something, but he won’t tell anyone what it is. I know it’s not work.

  LaurieBell: I’m sure I’ll run into him soon. This lockdown sucks. I can’t even see my boyfriend.

  I frowned and went to the list of members on the server. Only one Matt there. Granted, not everyone used their real names. It was probably someone else. Why would Matt want to rent a cabin with me when he could just as easily go with his girlfriend? Unless she couldn’t go, for whatever reason.

  Hoping to have things clarified, I scrolled through the rest of the chat, but Matt never talked to Laurie there. Was I being stupid, going God knew where, with a man I had only seen in person that one time? We talked a lot on the phone, but what did I really know about him?

  We were just friends with gaming benefits. Nothing more. I shouldn’t even care if he had a girlfriend. Besides, it was either this or staying with Gulya. The last thing Gulya needed was me with all the potential germs.

  The electronic shriek brought me out of my thoughts. I buzzed Matt in, gave my kitchen another searching look, and unlocked my apartment door. The elevator opened, and Matt stepped out.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” He pulled a vase with red tulips from behind his back. “I know we’re gonna have a lot in the car already, but I couldn’t resist.”

  “Thanks.” I inhaled the faint aroma and smiled. “Supermarket?”

  “Florists are closed, and I was buying the coolers anyway.”

  “You’re sweet.” And I needed to be careful before I started imagining too much. Just friends.

  “Let me get your bags first; then I’ll come back and help you pack all the food.” He took both luggage bags and rolled them out the door.

  I glanced at my phone. He would’ve mentioned having a girlfriend, wouldn’t he? We weren’t really dating. Oh, who was I kidding? Matt wasn’t inviting me to stay in the cabin with him because he thought of me as his sister. Laurie might’ve meant someone else, but I had to be honest with myself, Matt might be playing me. I really didn’t want to get played again.

  “You’re okay?” Matt put the coolers and the ice on the kitchen table. “If you got second thoughts, I get it. No pressure.”

  “Are you dating anyone?”

  Matt sat on the chair across from me. “No. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” I looked at my hands, then tried to smile and met his eyes. “Thought I should know before we go. Just in case.”

  I got up and went to the fridge, but Matt caught my hand and turned me to face him.

  “I broke up with my ex a couple of months ago because she cheated on me. Things are still pretty crazy between us. I wanted to stay single for a while and just concentrate on my future, but then I ran into you. If you want us to just be friends, I got no problem with that. I still can’t think of anyone I’d rather be locked up with, even if all we do is talk and play board games.”

  I searched his eyes for any sign of deception but only found honesty. “I just wanted to be sure. I don’t want to end up in a situation I have no way of getting out of. The place you found is kind of isolated, and I don’t have a car.”

  “You can always take mine and dump me there. If I’m a two-timing asshole, I deserve it.”

  “I don’t know how to drive.”

  “I can teach you. I know it’s a useless skill in Brooklyn, but you never know when you might need it. Or maybe you can use it if you go back to your country.”

  “I doubt I’ll ever own a car in Uzbekistan. It’s too expensive.” I put the vegetables into one cooler, then started packing the still frozen meat.

  “Then you can learn in case you need to dump my sorry ass in the middle of nowhere.”

  “That would be an awful thing to do.” I poured ice around the ground beef.

  “So, you’re on board with taking it further than us just being friends?” Matt gave me another of his disarming smiles that had me nodding in agreement. “Good.”

  He stepped between me and the table. With my back against the kitchen counter, I had nowhere to retreat to. Not that I wanted to. What was I doing? This could only end in a disaster.

  Matt put one hand on my waist, another on my neck, and brought his lips down. I moved my face up and closed the distance, accepting his kiss, losing myself in it.

  My head swam as my body arched forward, needing to feel more of him. My legs weakened. I reached back to grab onto the counter, but my hand went too high and connected with something. A box of pasta fell.

  “Crap.” Matt pulled away and looked down. Rotini scattered all over the floor.

  “I thought I closed it better.” Damn it. Why did I always have to ruin everything? I squeezed past Matt and went to the bathroom, where I kept the broom.

  “I’ll clean it up.” Matt lifted the box and tossed it in the trash.

  “It’s alright, I can do this. The coolers are a little heavy for me, though. Can you get them?”

  “Absolutely.” Matt gave me another kiss, keeping it brief this time, then took the vegetables and headed for the elevator.

  I touched my lips and smiled. All the doubts evaporated, leaving me warm, comfortable, and vulnerable to mistakes.

  Chapter 8

  Matt

  I KEPT ONE HAND on the steering wheel and one on Zamira. My thumb brushed her knuckles as my mind compared today to the weeks of isolation.

  The highway weaved through the trees, bright green with the spring leaves. No traffic. No concrete monstrosities with hundreds of coughing residents, covering every surface with millions of germs. No stalker ex waiting for me in the parking lot.

  “What are you smiling about?” Zamira asked.

  My grin grew wider. “Just feel good about this trip. I never realized how much I hated living in Brooklyn until this pandemic. It was good for building connections and finding work, but the pandemic isn’t fun with so many people around.”

  “And it’s noisy. I’m used to living in a quiet town. Well, a city, but we lived on the outskirts, so it felt like a quiet town.”

  “You are a quiet town.” I squeezed her fingers.

  “What are you, five?”

  I chuckled, my eyes darting to the right to see her smile. “Just saying you fit the description. How many times did you leave your building during the lockdown?”

  “A couple. And I checked my mail every three days because the junk mail fills the mailbox so fast that new letters would never fit.”

  “I left my building at least every other day, and I checked mail daily. I’m a city that can’t stop moving, even during a pandemic. You’re a quiet town.”

  Zamira shifted in her seat until she was half-turned to face me. “Then why would you be happy to leave? Brooklyn seems like a good fit for someone like you.”

  “Because someone like me will end up getting sick and spreading the damn thing to everyone else. I can’t keep doing it. The house we’re renting is at least twice the size of my apartment, plus it has five acres of land. I can at least walk. I won’t even have to cover my face, as long as I'm on the property.”

  “Oh, I forgot.” Zamira lifted her purse from under her seat, opened the side pocket, and pulled out three masks. “These are for you.”

  “Thanks.” I stuffed them in the cup holder to wait until I could pull over and take a better look. “See, small town. City girls don’t sew.”

  “I’m sure there’re a lot of girls in Brooklyn who can sew a mask.”

  “There might be, but not everyone who was born and raised in a city is a city girl.”

  “You have some really strange ideas.”

  I spotted a rest area that was miraculously opened. We had bee
n on the road for three hours and still had at least nine more ahead of us. At the very least, we needed to stretch our legs and eat.

  “I made sandwiches. Turkey and chicken,” I said.

  “Thank you. I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”

  “They are sandwiches, gorgeous. I’m bad, but I’m not that bad.” I parked the car as far away as I could from the four trucks.

  Zamira looked around the parking lot, her eyes lingering on the building that might as well be abandoned. “I guess the bathroom is there.”

  “It should be.” I pulled out the three masks she gave me earlier, one green, one black, and the third was grey with Yoda right in the center, his ears stretching out toward the elastic. “This is awesome. Did you buy the fabric online?”

  “No. It’s from my old shirt.”

  I reached over, put one hand on the back of her head, and gave her a kiss, careful not to get carried away and give everyone around a show.

  Zamira gave me a shy smile, her cheeks flushed. “Glad you liked it.” She put her violet and blue mask on and hurried out of the car.

  I put my Yoda on as I followed after her. The place looked safe enough, but there was no way to know what someone might try to pull in a hidden corner of a mostly empty rest area.

  Zamira ducked through the door to the women’s bathroom. I went to the men’s room and hurried to do my thing. The sound of the running water as I washed my hands gave way to the deep voice outside. I shook my hands dry as I got back out.

  Some asshole had one arm on the wall and the other on the handle of the still-opened ladies’ bathroom door, blocking Zamira in.

  “Social distance your ass from my girl.”

  He turned his head toward me. His pupils dilated. His gaze darted back and forth. “The hell do you care? Just keep walking. This cunt deserves what’s coming for bringing this shit here.”

  “I don’t think so.” I looked him up and down, considering my chances. The guy was half a foot shorter, which gave me a reach advantage. The only weights he lifted were pound burritos. His legs still managed to look like twigs regardless of the pudgy belly. His center of gravity would make it easy to knock him on his ass. Except that his eyes were like two red cherry tomatoes. The extra energy from the drugs and possibly being numb to pain might give him a few extra points. “Do I need to call the cops to get your ass arrested for driving in this condition? You’re not a trucker by chance, are you? That’s an easy way to lose your CDL.”

  “The fuck did you just say?”

  He turned his whole body toward me and took a step closer. Zamira swung her bag, connecting it with his head. He stumbled, leaned against the wall, then slid down.

  “Come on, back to the car.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the parking lot. “You’re nuts.” I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me.

  Zamira slid into her seat. “He looked crazy.”

  “High.” I pulled out my phone. “Just sit tight. I’ll get the police, so they can keep that idiot off the road. You might wanna file charges against him too.”

  “I was the one who assaulted him.”

  “Self-defense.” I searched for a non-emergency number and placed a call. “Hi. My name is Mathew Aipecon. There’s a guy at a rest area who looks high. He just tried to assault my girlfriend, but she took care of it. I don’t see any vehicles here except trucks, so he’s either a trucker or he works here. Could you get someone here to make sure he’s not driving under the influence? He might also need to have his head checked out. My girlfriend’s bag is heavy.”

  The operator took the location and promised to send someone. I watched the building to make sure the guy wasn’t trying to get back to his truck and drive away.

  “Maybe we should leave,” Zamira said. “I did hit him.”

  “I want to see if he gets into a truck. Then, I can give the police his license plate number.” I reached back for the cooler and pulled out two sandwiches. “Here. We might as well eat while we wait.”

  Zamira sighed, her shoulders rigid, but she tore off the aluminum foil and started to eat. “You really do know how to make sandwiches.”

  I smirked. “You know how to hit. I bet he’s still out.”

  She looked down, her brows drawn together. “Not the first time I had to do that.”

  “In the States?”

  “No, back home. This is the first time anyone tried something like this here.” She glanced at the building. “You think I hurt him really badly?”

  “I hope so.” I brushed her cheek with my fingers, bringing her attention back to me. “What happened in your country? Why did you have to weaponize your bag?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. You’re not the kind of psycho who’d hit people over nothing.”

  She sighed. “There’re people who think a girl in a mini skirt is asking to be groped. They are a minority, but a very prolific minority.”

  Bile rose up in my throat. I rewrapped the half-finished sandwich and put it back in the cooler. The police needed to get here soon before I decided to take it out on the unconscious idiot.

  “That’s messed up.”

  “It’s not all bad. Most people are decent.”

  “Only takes one.” My mind returned to the day I met Zamira. How nervous she was when I offered her a ride and walked her to the door. It made a lot more sense than I cared to admit.

  A police cruiser pulled into the parking lot. I stepped out of the car to let them know I was here but waited for them to approach.

  “Mathew Aipecon?” One of the officers came closer. The other stayed in the car.

  “Yes, sir. The guy I called about is probably still by the bathroom. I didn’t see him come out here. His eyes were bloodshot and darted back and forth a lot, like he was on stimulants.”

  He nodded at Zamira. “That’s the girl he assaulted?”

  “Tried to.” Zamira stepped out of the car. “He wouldn’t let me get out of the bathroom. I hit him with my bag.” She fumbled with the strap of her purse. “It’s not that heavy, I swear.”

  The officer shook his head. “You don’t look like you can do that much damage. I’m sure he’s fine. Just stay here until we’re done with him.”

  Both cops went toward the bathrooms hidden from my view. My fingers drummed on the roof of the car. I was doing the right thing. I knew it. I just hated that it took so long, and that Zamira felt uncomfortable with the situation.

  “It’ll be fine,” I told her. “They just need to get that asshole off the road.”

  The muffled noise reached my ears, so low I could barely make it out as words. Two thuds followed. My fist clenched as I waited, but finally, the two officers brought the guy out and shoved him in the back of their vehicle.

  “Oh, thank God. I thought I killed him,” Zamira said.

  The same officer came back to take down our names. “Would you like to press charges?”

  “No, that’s alright. He didn’t actually touch me. Matt came out just in time and then…” Zamira lifted her bag an inch. “And now you’re here, so it’s alright.”

  “You might wanna at least give a statement,” I said. “If he decides to press charges against you for hitting him, you’ll be on record with your side of the story.”

  “That’s a good idea,” the officer agreed. “Do you two live around here?”

  “No. We’re going to Ohio. Just rented a house there.”

  “Sorry driving through PA was a pain. If you follow us, we can get the statement wrapped up and send you on your way.”

  Chapter 9

  Zamira

  “THAT’S A LOT OF ALPACAS.” Matt looked at me like he expected the same enthusiastic grin. “What? They are cute.”

  “I guess.”

  Didn’t he tell me he grew up in New York? Must be why he thought farm animals were so cool. Most of the time, they were alright at best. Except roosters. Those were evil.

  “Are alpacas common in your country
?”

  “No. My people prefer sheep.”

  “Alpacas are cuter.”

  “They are, but I bet stepping in their poop feels the same.” I looked at the animals grazing in their enclosure. A filthy enclosure. “We had this family in my area that had about fifty sheep. Every day, they would take all of them to the field outside of town to graze. The road became a minefield. One wrong move and your foot is covered in crap.”

  “So, taking you on a date to a farm is a bad idea. Got it.”

  I chuckled. Americans had some strange ideas about dates. “I prefer something more traditional, like movies. Or just going to a park.”

  “Movies would be good.” Matt drummed with both thumbs on the steering wheel before continuing. “But you can’t have a conversation in a movie theater, so it sucks for first dates. Or, you know, when you’re dating someone you like talking to. Plus the Rona.”

  “We can discuss the film after, while walking in the park.” If parks ever reopen. “We’ll have a large property. We can go for walks and talk about whatever we caught on Netflix.”

  Matt took an exit that led us to a smaller highway and then to a dirt road. Every couple of minutes, a house appeared. Woods and farms surrounded us.

  Finally, the tiny number on the mailbox and the voice from the GPS announced our arrival. Home sweet Jesus, Mary, and all the Saints. What did we get ourselves into?

  Grass grew out of the narrow driveway, flower pots, and gutters. The roof over the sunroom sagged.

  “How much are we paying for this?” I asked, even though I knew. Damn it. I had known from the start that we would get what we paid for.

  “Two hundred.” He parked halfway way to the house, probably not wanting to get the car stuck in the giant pothole that tried to compete for the title of a ditch. “It just needs a little TLC. We’re both out of work. We can do this.”