Indelible
by S.V. Farnsworth
Chapter One
A Rolls-Royce garnered more attention in Seoul, South Korea than a diva center stage at the opera, not that Nicole was a diva. In fact, where she sat was the loneliest place for an already foreign person to nestle. The choice was deliberate, however, because she needed to be noticed today. Though only by the man who warmed her existence with the radiant heat of his soul.
Thoughts of Andrew and his joyful nature made her smile. To be honest, she’d always had his heart. Unfortunately, she’d taken it for granted.
The one thing she had not considered significant, had stolen him away. Religion wasn’t something she valued, she wore no crosses or emblems of faith. Her father, an atheist, had taught her disdain for the weak-minded people who pursued such things.
Despite this, he tolerated Mother’s tight-lipped attendance of Catholic Mass without reproach. Anything mother wanted would always be a priority to him. Perhaps, that was how she needed to view Andrew’s escapade into missionary service. But two years of it could not be endured.
Ten lanes of traffic blurred past the parked car as she drummed her clear coat nails on the armrest. “Do you have any news, Bertrand?”
The lanky family driver in the front seat twisted to face her with a smartphone in his hand and a raised eyebrow. “Non, Mademoiselle. Now tell me again why you think chasing this boy half-way around the world is a good idea?”
The censure crushed her, causing her lower-lip to tremble. “It’s the worst idea I’ve ever had. But it’s my only chance, and I have to take it.”
His graying brows eased into a resolute expression and he nodded. “Don’t worry. No matter what he says, seeing you will make him happy. It always has.”
“Thank you, for saying that.” The months apart had made her doubt.
Glancing out the window, she gained her bearings. To the left lay Lotte World, a theme park, though she wasn’t amused. On her right, a few meters across the vast sidewalk stood the entrance to a shopping center with an underground subway station, Jamshil. She couldn’t read Korean, but most signs had Romanization underneath the native text to help foreigners navigate.
With a sigh, she leaned back in the leather seat and inhaled the aroma of fine leather laced with smog. She’d hired a man to track Andrew down. Because…well, because she could.
Still, she wouldn’t have come except that her father had fulfilled his term as Consul General at the French consulate in Los Angeles, California. He had accepted a prestigious position working in international business arbitration with Mother here in South Korea. They had listed the LA house with a realtor and would be in Seoul on business for the foreseeable future.
Since it was winter break at UC Berkeley, she had driven home and come along as they moved into a penthouse apartment in Seoul. She felt out of place in Asia, despite her similar dark hair and slight build. Most everyone on the sidewalk beside the Rolls headed to or from work on their lunch break.
They moved on their way in smart black and white clothing that flattered their trim figures. Idleness irked her. She lived a productive life at the University.
“The investigator reports, Andrew Leavitt has just arrived by bus.” Bertrand pointed out the window.
A tall Caucasian man in a black, fleece overcoat strode past. Andrew carried a briefcase. His long legs took him through the crowd and into the shopping center.
Without thinking, she flung open the door and knocked over an elderly man. She dove after him to help break his fall. When their eyes met, she knew he hadn’t been seriously hurt.
He took her hands in his. It surprised her to find them ice-cold. He smiled and climbed to his feet helping her up from her knees.
“Are you all right?” She spoke English, hoping he would understand her.
Still smiling, he drew her hands together, holding them with one of his and patting her like a child. All the while he chatted in Korean. The wear of his clothing and the lack of enough of it told her he was homeless. Without thinking, she took off her cashmere coat and draped it around his shoulders.
“Help this man, Bertrand.” She met the gaze of the family driver who had hopped out of the car to come to her aid.
“Yes, Mademoiselle.”
Careful of the people in the way, she hurried into the shopping center in pursuit of Andrew. A missionary wasn’t likely to be here to buy things, but to catch a train. So, she hurried past the grand fountain and through a maze of shops. Because he was tall, she eventually discovered him coming out of a pungent smelling restaurant.
A throng of people stood between them. “Andrew!”
He kept walking.
Following him down a set of steps, she pulled up short as she noticed something wrong. The landing by the tracks was compacting with people. She attempted to reverse course only to be mobbed and carried further into the tightening throng on the subway platform.
“Andrew.” Her voice sounded like the rapport of a gun over the muffled voices and scuffling shoes.
He looked in her direction, his body wedged in place. Scanning the crowd, his gaze finally rested on her. His chin tilted downward and his blond eyebrows shot up. He waded through the people, drawing close, but out of reach.
“What are you doing here, Miss Moreau?”
Nicole narrowed her eyes at his formal use of her last name. Though she enjoyed hearing his smooth baritone. She’d missed the sound of his voice.
“I was in town and happened to notice you walking by,” she said. “I thought I’d say hello.”
His eyes narrowed this time. He wasn’t a stupid man.
“You really shouldn’t have come. It’s against the rules.”
Anger caused her cheeks to flush with heat. She glanced from side to side at the tightening group of people around her, annoyed by more than the elbow in the ribs she’d just received. Jerk. She pressed her lips together and glared at him.
“Then, you don’t want to see me?” she asked.
They hadn’t seen each other for eighteen months. It had almost killed her. He should be happy about the reunion.
“I didn’t say that.” He ducked his head.
To her surprise, he blushed. Unbuttoning his heavy coat, he revealed a white shirt and a hideously plain and stained tie. She clenched her jaw at the sight of the threadbare clothes. He’d lost weight and his hairline had receded into a shallow widow’s peak easily seen due to his unfashionably short haircut.
“You look awful. Don’t they feed you around here?” she asked.
She hadn’t meant to offend him. In the eight years they’d known each other, she’d only seen him really angry once. Now twice.
Additional color flushed his neck and face. He avoided meeting her gaze and his nostrils flared. His brows crashed together and his lower lip protruded.
“Don’t throw a fit. It’s the truth.” Unable to strike the indignant pose she wanted; she jostled the people around her.
“What do you know about truth?” His eyes flashed and he spoke in a whisper that barely carried over the heads of the people pressed between them. “You don’t have a clue why I’m here, but you could have. You could understand…if you wanted to.”
His expression softened. It filled with emotions she recognized such as sadness, regret, and loss. He looked away at an incoming train.
Its brakes screeched and it came to a stop. The doors did not open. People pushed, forcing everyone toward the unopened doors of the nearest subway car.
“Ouch.” Nicole’s voice squeaked as she struggled against the surge of bodies.
Andrew sidled through the crowd to close the last bit of distance between them. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his blue eyes looked like steel.
“You shouldn’t be here. Where’s Bertrand?”
The mob crushed them together. She breathed in Andrew’s familiar scent. Already, the noise and press of bodies had made her dizzy. She needed him. Bertrand couldn’t help.
“In the car.”
“Did he follow you?” Andrew scanned the crowd.
“I don’t know.” Her voice came out weak.
She wanted to rest her head on his chest. But she refused to show weakness. Instead, she shut her eyes and tried to drown out the surrounding people.
“Bertrand. I have her. Meet us at the embassy.” Andrew’s voice boomed.
Her eyes flew open.
“All right,” Bertrand said.
He stood at the top of the nearest stairway. With a wave, he departed. He hadn’t been completely blocked in, though no one on the landing had any hope of escape.
An announcement blasted across the speakers in Korean. Nicole didn’t understand a word of it. However, the tension in the male voice conveyed a universal, spine straightening, message of outrage.
The crowd hushed and the struggle abated as people listened. She imagined every other word as an expletive, though no one in the crowd reacted. Abruptly, the voice stopped and the train exited the station without ever opening the doors.
“What’s wrong?” She couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
Many people teetered precariously close to the edge of the landing. A woman nearly fell onto the tracks, but recovered and pushed against the masses. No one said a word.
“I’ll find out.” Facing away, Andrew spoke to an Asian man beside him.
She didn’t know he spoke Korean. For the first time, she noticed both of them wore black name badges. They must be together.
That jogged a memory. Andrew’s mother had mentioned that missionaries always worked in groups of two or three. It was called a companionship.
“It’s a strike, I think.” He frowned.
“You think? Well, how are we going to get out of here?” She could see he didn’t have an answer.
Another train rushed into the station, swirling the ladies’ hair. It stopped and the conductor made a calm announcement before the doors slid open. People crammed her and the missionaries into a subway car. The doors slammed on men and women along the line, leaving some only halfway inside.
She winced at the sight of torsos, arms, and legs wedged between the rubber padded steel. She and Andrew were lucky. At the same time, they were pitifully unfortunate to have been forced by the mob into the car. As soon as the doors cleared, the train moved out of the station.
#
Nicole couldn’t breathe. Patience, though strained, seemed to be the silent consensus of the other subway passengers. So, she tried to remain calm.
The heat and indignity of so many people pressed together felt like a hot, garlic sandwich. It made her dizzy. She was fortunate not to have a coat. The other travelers sweated in heavy winter gear. Distracting herself with thoughts of gratitude wasn’t working. Her heart rate increased and her breathing shallowed.
“I’m afraid I’m a bit claustrophobic.” Her voice echoed in her ears as if underwater.
“I know.” Andrew’s gaze darted around the car in anguish.
Clearly, everyone was equally confined; there was no more room. To her relief, he reached his arms around her and backed the people away ever so slightly. It allowed her to breathe more freely.
Overwhelmed, she leaned her head on his chest. Eyes closed, she tried to shut out the reality of the situation. Andrew’s heartbeat steadied her nerves. But his arms trembled with the prolonged effort to give her more room than anyone had. She knew it wasn’t fair.
Regardless, she couldn’t help feeling oppressed by the presence of so many people crushing in on her. She could barely maintain her self-control. Without Andrew, she would have panicked.
“You really shouldn’t put your head on my chest. It isn’t appropriate.” He spoke gently though audibly enough for the people around to hear.
The car slowed to a stop sending everyone crashing to the front. Only a few people struggled to escape. Then the train accelerated and people shifted rearward, this time crushing those at the back.
She released her hasty hold around Andrew’s middle and lifted her head. No one spoke. But judging by the faces of the men and women in the subway car, she and Andrew were being taken note of. She concluded that missionaries must have a lot of rules.
With each stop, a few more passengers debarked the train and a few less entered. Andrew dropped his arms, taking a half step away from her to grab a subway strap. Sweat dripped along the side of his face. He wiped it with a white handkerchief from his pocket and took off his overcoat. She noticed another black name badge clipped on his suit coat pocket.
“Elder Leavitt?” She wondered what the Elder part meant because his name was Andrew Martin Leavitt, not Elder.
“It’s a title. The girl missionaries are called Sisters.” Distracted, he faced the other missionary.
“Girl missionaries?” She shot him a wry smile. “Do you think they’re your sisters?” The whole missionary thing seemed absurd. Who do these people think they are?
“Yes.” He frowned at her. “That’s exactly what I think about them.” He faced away.
“Then one of them isn’t the reason you’ve traveled halfway around the world acting like an idiot?” The words slipped out. Only after she said them did she realize how accurately they described her own actions.
“Of course not.” His head shook ever so slightly. “Now excuse me, I have to find out how to get you to an embassy, either French or United States. I don’t even know if they have a French Embassy in Seoul.” He spoke to the other missionary.
“You could ask me,” she said.
Why was he acting like this? What had happened to the boy she’d known or the teenager she thought had been in love with her? The man before her had changed. She admired his confident air, except now he seemed immune to her charms.
“Do you know how to find the French Embassy?” He faced her.
Her mouth opened a bit. She glanced around and then back at him. “Well, no, not exactly. But I know there is one. My parents are here on business and we dined at the Embassy last night. The Ambassador was charming.” Boasting wasn’t going to impress Andrew, but it did bolster her courage.
“You haven’t changed.” He grinned and shook his head. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. Now let me find out how to take you where you belong, and let’s hope it doesn’t get me sent home.” He continued speaking with the other Missionary.
There wasn’t much she could say to that. But it pleased her he was willing to risk his precious mission to help. Of Course, she preferred not to need assistance.
She wanted Andrew to choose to be with her. However, she’d take whatever she could get at this point. Pain welled inside her and the hardest part was how familiar it felt.
When he faced her, she recognized something surprising in his expression. He felt the same way. They paused to look into the other’s eyes.
She broke contact first. He wanted to share his religion most of all. For him, religion would always come before anything else, even if he loved her.
Resentment hardened within her. His religion divided them, it always had. She hated it, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Her mother had once called it heresy. Why would he choose heresy over her? The thought made her blood boil and her heart freeze at the same time.
“You can stay here forever for all I care,” she said.
His expression softened and his eyes twinkled.
“I’ll be home in six months. I hope you’ll make time to talk to me then. It’s good to see you, Nicole.”
She looked him in the eyes and her anger melted.
“I won’t be in the States six months from now. I’ve been accepted at the Sorbonne in Paris.”
“Graduate studies already? I only have a semester at UCLA.”
“I don’t waste time.” She regretted saying that.
He frowned. “I’m not wasting time, Nicole.”
“Regardless, Father says I’ll make a great diplomat. I’m not so sure. But it’s something I’m familiar with.” She chewed her lip.
Now or never. “Join me. My apartment is big enough for two.” It took everything she had to make this offer and the only reason she stopped short of asking him to marry her was that she knew he would insist on it.
His brows went up and then crashed into an expression of concern. “Nicole…” His lower lip trembled.
His cheeks grew rosy, but the rest of his face paled. He took a deep breath and looked at his hands. Gently shaking his head back and forth, his facial muscles tensed.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Hot tears burst over her dark lashes to trace the olive skin of her face. She tilted her head to one side as she looked in sorrow at his unyielding expression. Her hand moved of its own accord to caress his cheek and then recoiled to slap him squarely. The sound resounded in the nearly empty subway car. In apparent shock, the few remaining passengers forgot to look away. The other missionary scowled. But Andrew ducked his head and faced away from her.
#
Andrew and his Korean missionary companion, Elder Lee HoJin, stood on the sidewalk in front of the U.S. embassy. They watched Nicole Moreau’s haughty figure stride through the gates. She wore Andrew’s cardigan and scarf, causing him to shiver in the icy wind despite his coat and suitcoat. She didn’t look back.
“I texted President Jones.” Elder Lee’s expression and tone conveyed his condolences regarding Nicole.
Andrew nodded. He patted Elder Lee on the shoulder in thanks for his understanding. He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat.
Nicole was such a passionate person. She’d come all this way to throw herself at him. His hands trembled.
She would never forgive him. He wanted to run in after her and make some kind of promise. He wanted to tell her he loved her and if she’d only wait for him, then he would marry her in any church she chose.
Thoughts of their future children stopped him. Nicole hated his religion, though he had no idea why. He rubbed his face with both hands.
He loved the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He couldn’t turn his back on God. But Nicole needed him and he loved her. For once in his life, he had no idea how to sort this out and make any kind of decision about what to do.
“There’s President’s car.” Elder Lee trotted along the busy sidewalk to the intersection so they could cross four lanes of traffic.
Andrew met his companion’s determined expression. A feeling of guilt descended like a wet blanket. Elder Lee nodded. Without a word, the two missionaries crossed the street and got in the back seat of the car.
“President Jones, I can explain.” Andrew wasn’t really sure he could.
“Have you Elders had anything to eat?”
President’s reassuring voice and the warmth of the car soothed Andrew’s fears.
Elder Lee shook his head and President Jones passed a candy bar to each of them.
“President, we helped a lost French woman. I have to tell you something. She’s a friend of mine. She came all the way from California to see me. I’m kind of shook up.” Andrew’s voice quavered.
Elder Lee ripped open the Free Time chocolate bar and took a bite.
“So, what happened?” President turned to face the backseat.
Tears piqued in Andrew’s eyes, and he leaned against the headrest. “My friend isn’t a member. She doesn’t understand the church or serving a mission. She just missed me too much, I guess.
“She tracked me down at Jamshil Station and we got caught in a subway strike. The crowd crammed us like sardines into a subway car and Nicole and I got…close. She asked me to move to Paris with her. I said no and she slapped me.” Andrew swiped at his eyes.
“She’s in love with you?” President asked.
“I never thought so, but I’ve loved her since we were kids.” Andrew took a tremulous breath.
“Elder, you’ve served an honorable mission for eighteen months. After twelve, you can go home for any reason you choose.”
“I didn’t know that, President.” The news was a shock.
“You need to decide what you should do. Pray about it and let me know.” President pulled out into the congested Seoul traffic like a pro.
Andrew tried not to think about the advice, tried and failed. He loved being a missionary. But he knew his focus had been shattered. Something about what Nicole had asked, the look in her eyes, the little twitch in her cheek after she slapped him, made it clear she needed him now.
“President, will you take me back to the embassy? I need to talk to her. I’m worried.” A sense of urgency built inside him that he recognized as important.
“Calm down. Say a prayer. I’m driving back,” President said.
Andrew folded his arms and prayed in silence. Why hadn’t he realized when he had the chance just how out of character it was for Nicole to come here and make him that offer? It was desperate and that wasn’t like her.
“I should have written her more letters.” Andrew shook his head.
“We’re here, Elder,” President said.
Andrew jumped out of the car and ran through the gates only to be stopped by two armed soldiers. “The French woman that came in a while ago, where is she?”
“A car came for her a minute ago,” one soldier said.
Andrew’s heart sank. She was gone, and he had no means of finding her. With halting steps, he walked toward President’s car. He was too late.