Meghan’s Expedition
Note to the reader: this story builds on three prior ones about Meghan and Tony, who were married in Mad River Romance stories of 2023. Those stories have been re-posted and you can read them on these links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.
Two years had passed since their wedding day. Meghan still smiled when she thought of the Round Barn milking parlor, the dress she loved, and the earnest poetry of Tony’s handwritten vows. But marriage was harder than a wedding, and more than once, they struggled to act as a couple, each of them with their own careers.
Tony’s graduate architecture program drained him of days, nights and many weekends. Projects always took longer than he thought, and Meghan had many, many nights eating alone in their tiny apartment.
They had to live in New York, which meant a studio apartment with a kitchen so tiny it belonged in a Barbie dream house. Sure, the city was vibrant, and she loved the variety of places to eat, even on a budget, but she missed the trees, grasses and byways of Vermont and the rolling ridgeline of the Green Mountains.
And to be fair, she needed to prove herself at her job, too. Teaching undergrads and grading their papers was straightforward and rewarding, but conducting archeological research for her professor’s pet topic of ancient Korean dolmen burial sites in Gochang was brutally challenging; interesting, but a time sink that rivaled Tony’s studies.
She desperately wanted to prove her worth so she could join the expedition her professor planned on leading next summer. If she made the team, she could dig, explore, and research firsthand in Korea. She craved the adventure, so like what she and Tony had in the before-time of their college summers. The adrenaline rush of discovery coupled with the intellectual puzzle of identifying an artifact exhilarated her. So, when her professor told her his office could sponsor her to study the Korean language at Middlebury College’s renown eight-week summer immersion program for languages, she jumped at the chance.
It led to the first fight of their marriage.
“But, Tony, you’ll be working all summer at school. You’ll be in the studio day and night. You’ll hardly miss me,” Meghan said. “Besides, it’s good for my job. I’ll be able to read research journal articles in the original language when I get back. And it sets me up to be more valuable for the expedition to Korea next summer and —”
“Next summer, too? Damn it, Meggie, we’re married. We’re supposed to live together,” Tony said, raking his hand through his hair. “What is my family going to say? That you’ve left me?”
“We aren’t tied at the hip,” Meghan said, louder than she intended. “And it’s not about your family. It’s about me. And us. And it’s only eight weeks.”
“Maybe I need you to be more wifey,” Tony blurted out. His eyes registered his shock as the words flew out of his mouth.
Meghan raised an eyebrow and lowered her voice. “Nice, macho man. Next you’ll want me barefoot and in the kitchen.”
“It’s not that. I want you here with me. I mean, is cooking for us such a bad thing?” Tony asked. “I mean, the expedition is for ancient sites, they aren’t going anywhere. You can always go later…”
Meghan silenced him with her glare and walked toward their desk in the corner of the room, yelling behind her. “I’m going to send the acceptance email. A good husband would be happy for me.”
She pressed the send button, pissed at Tony for holding her back and mad at herself for feeling guilty about it.
In the two weeks before she left for class, Meghan and Tony lived in an uneasy detente. Neither apologized for their remarks, but they spoke civilly, if not a little chilly. Meghan couldn’t wait to leave the tension behind. Her opinion dug deeper every day. She was going to do something for herself.
***
The Middlebury campus shimmered in gorgeous green when she got off the bus with her suitcase and computer bag. A rolling hill poked up behind the campus; the cool air stirred the nodding daisies and ruffled the leaves on the trees. Tony would love this place. She shoved thoughts of New York away and followed some other student-looking people up the hill and then nearly danced along the route of signs toward registration to enter the stone building.
“Meghan Viterelli,” she said to the athletic-looking gray-haired woman at the desk.
“Welcome, Meghan,” the woman nearly shouted with enthusiasm. “You’ll be staying in Stuart, right on main campus.” She handed Meghan a packet of information. “Class information, keys, ID — everything you need. Is this your first time here?”
Meghan nodded. Do I look out of place already?
“You’ll love it,” the helpful woman offered. “And remember, you’re in the immersive language program for…” She checked her sheet. “Korean. Right. So that means only Korean once the kickoff ceremony concludes tomorrow.”
“What does only Korean mean?”
The woman furrowed her brow. “All the time. AM to PM, every day until you leave. Korean language, books, writing, TV shows. No more English. The language pledge. Didn’t you read about that in the information we sent you?”
“But how will I call home?” Meghan said.
“In Korean, of course,” said the woman, looking behind to the person waiting behind Meghan and holding up a finger. “Don’t worry, they will explain everything at the pledge ceremony tomorrow. Good luck and enjoy! Next please.”
Meghan shuffled away from the desk, the woman’s words bouncing like a superball in her head. Only Korean. It would be fun. Immersion — that’s what she was here for, right?
She dragged her suitcase into the corner and pulled out her phone to call Tony. She listened to the ring and then the voicemail. “Tony, call me back when you get this. I’ve got to speak Korean only for the next eight weeks, so all my texts and calls will be in Korean. Sorry. I didn’t realize…” She pushed end and stared at the phone. He would call back. She’d explain. Technology could help; they could use Google Translate. She watched the clock on her phone. A minute, then another. Nothing. He must be in class. Shit.
***
The first week was challenging, but Meghan felt her brain growing new neural pathways every minute of the day. It was an endorphin high. The teachers were fantastic: demanding and encouraging both, and her fellow classmates all tried to support one another with miming gestures and smiles when they made mistakes. Everyone was here because they wanted to be. There wasn’t competition, just cooperation.
Tony had called back before the pledge ceremony. He sounded resigned to his eight-week fate.
“Look, I know we didn’t agree on this whole adventure of yours. And this ‘no English’ seems a little crazy to me…” Tony said.
“Everyone takes it really seriously,” Meghan said. “I’m going to promise to do it. I’ll just mime my way through until I learn more words.”
“And you’re stubborn enough to make it work, I know that,” Tony said, with a small sigh.
“I do keep my promises,” she said. “I pledged to love you for decades, remember?”
His soft chuckle brought a smile to her lips. “I’ll survive.”
“Love you.”
“You too.”
Understanding the motivations of classmates with her very limited vocabulary was hard, but eventually Meghan learned her hall mate Becca was studying for a job assignment in Korea with her tech firm; one that would begin right after the class finished. Meghan told her in halting words about the trip she was hoping for next summer. Becca agreed to find her when that happened. Their friendship grew as fast as their pile of vocabulary flashcards.
Despite Meghan’s enjoyment of her studies, communication with Tony was a horrible challenge. She filtered his English texts into Korean and answered in Korean, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t understand everything well, and he was likely having the same problem, no matter how good Google Translate was. Meghan could text about her classes and teachers, but she didn’t have the vocabulary for very much yet. Tony’s return texts became terse. She had to shake it out of her head. He was just going to have to be happy for her, but it was brutal not being able to tell him everything. She realized how much she missed him and hoped he felt the same way. She tried to text that sentiment and hoped that’s what she said. Some classmates called home in English, but it was frowned upon, and she felt strongly that she should try to uphold her language pledge. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?
The end of the first week brought a celebratory party with Korean food and drink. Megan enjoyed the mix of sweet, savory and spicy flavors. Of course, she’d had kimchi pancakes and bulgogi before, but the hotteok dessert was new to her. It tasted like a sweeter, crunchier version of fried dough, and she ate three of them. Meghan and Becca toasted each other “Guhn-beh” and drank two glasses of soju rice liquor, doing their best to speak to their teachers and classmates, using lots of smiles and hand gestures.
The next morning, Meghan awoke with a roaring headache. When she saw Becca in the shared bathroom, she held her head and moaned. Becca shrugged and said in Korean that she felt fine. Not fair. She’d have to be more careful with the soju next time.
A few days later, Meghan sat down to breakfast with her regular fried egg, toast and fruit and as she picked up her fork, felt a quick rise of nausea in her stomach. She scurried to the ladies’ room and splashed cold water on her face, looking at her pale face in the mirror. She hoped she wasn’t catching a cold. It would be a shame to miss classes. She’d just drink more orange juice and take some vitamin C. When she sat back down at the table, Becca spoke in Korean. “Are you feeling well?”
Meghan shrugged and pushed away her meal, answering in Korean. “Not hungry, I guess.”
“Are you often ill?” Becca asked.
“Never,” Meghan answered.
“The drinks the other night, now breakfast? Perhaps you are… shit, I don’t know the word,” Becca said in Korean. She placed her hands over her stomach and mimed a growing belly.
Pregnant? Could I be pregnant? Meghan did some math in her head. She was late with her period, but that happened a lot. Maybe that one night a few weeks ago when she and Tony managed a thaw? I can’t be.
Becca took her hand and pulled her up. “Follow me.”
They left campus and walked down the hill to the drugstore in the center of the small town. They roved the aisles until they found the test kits. Meghan bought two just to be sure and headed back to the dorm.
“A few minutes,” Meghan said in Korean. Becca nodded.
She entered the shared bathroom and barricaded herself in a stall. She opened the kit. Shit, of course the instructions were in English. She wasn’t supposed to read English. I just have to break the pledge this one time. It’s OK. Steadying her hands with some deep breaths, she peed on the little stick and placed it on the stainless steel shelf next to her purse. She set her phone timer and waited.
Thoughts flew like darting sparrows through her head. A flutter shivered through her body. Was she ready to have a baby? Sure, she and Tony had talked about it as a future thing. A someday thing, when they were older, established in their lives. But now? How were they going to take care of a baby? Tony needed to finish his degree; that was his dream. If he stopped now, he might never go back. And what of her career? Would she have to stay home? She’d just started at this job, and she had a chance to go on expedition in Korea. Would that ever happen again? They weren’t ready. They just weren’t.
Her timer went off and jolted her back into the stall. She grabbed the stick and stared. Two lines. What did that mean? Was two positive or negative? She skimmed the instructions again. Her eyes bore through the paper. Two lines meant pregnant. But how could that be? They’d been careful — well, mostly careful. Not careful enough, obviously. She shook her head. The test must be wrong. She’d use the other kit.
Ten minutes later, the same two lines appeared. It was real. She was pregnant.
How was she going to tell Tony? She didn’t even know the Korean word for pregnant? She’d have to ask someone how to say it even to text him. Or maybe she should stop the program and rush home? This seemed like a thing to tell in person, right? She’d never been pregnant. How did someone tell their spouse? And what would Tony even feel? It was all so much.
Becca yelled from the doorway, “Time for class. Are you coming?”
Time for class. That was something she knew how to do. Classes had structure: maybe a test she could pass, or a discussion about the trains in Seoul. Things that could take her mind off her real-life challenge. When was she going to tell Tony? And how?
…to be continued
(And thanks to friend Maddy for all the great details on the Middlebury immersion program)
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