Park whipped around and saw Eleanor standing by the meat case with all four of her red-headed brothers and sisters. (Except none of them had red hair standing next to Eleanor. Nobody did.) A woman walked up to the cart and set down a turkey.
That must be Eleanor’s mom, Park thought, she looked just like her. But sharper and with more shadows. Like Eleanor, but taller.
Like Eleanor, but tired. Like Eleanor, after the fall.
Park’s mom was staring at them, too.
‘Mom,
come
on,’
Park
whispered.
‘Aren’t you going to say hi?’
she asked.
Park shook his head, but didn’t turn away. He didn’t think Eleanor would want him to, and even if she did, he didn’t want to get her in trouble. What if her stepdad was here, too?
Eleanor
looked
different,
drabber than usual. There was nothing hanging from her hair or magpie-tied to her wrists …
She still looked beautiful. His eyes missed her as much as the rest of him. He wanted to run to her and tell her – tell her how sorry he was and how much he needed her.
She didn’t see him.
‘Mom,’ he whispered again, ‘come on.’
Park thought his mom might say something more about it in the car, but she was quiet. When they got home, she said she was tired.
She asked Park to bring in the groceries, then she spent the rest of the afternoon in her room with the door closed.
His dad went in to check on her at dinner time, and an hour later, when they both came out, his dad said they were going to Pizza
Hut
for
dinner.
‘On
Christmas Eve?’ Josh said. They always had waffles and watched movies on Christmas Eve. They’d already rented Billy Jack. ‘Get in the car,’ his dad said. Park’s mom’s eyes were red, and she didn’t bother reapplying her eye makeup before they left.
When they got home, Park went straight to his room. He just wanted to be alone to think about seeing Eleanor – but his mom came in a few minutes later. She sat on his bed without making a single wave.
She held out a Christmas present. ‘This … is for your Eleanor,’ she said. ‘From me.’
Park looked at the gift. He took it, but shook his head.
‘I don’t know if I’ll have a chance to give it to her.’
‘Your Eleanor,’ she said, ‘she come from big family.’
Park shook the present gently.
‘I come from big family,’ his mom said. ‘Three little sisters.
Three little brothers.’ She held out her hand, as if she were patting six heads.
She’d had a wine cooler with dinner, and you could tell. She almost never talked about Korea.
‘What were their names?’ Park asked.
His mom’s hand settled gently in her lap.
‘In big family,’ she said, ‘everything … everybody spread so thin. Thin like paper, you know?’ She made a tearing gesture. ‘You know?’
Maybe two wine coolers.
‘I’m not sure,’ Park said.
‘Nobody gets enough,’ she said. ‘Nobody gets what they need. When you always hungry, you get hungry in your head.’ She tapped her forehead. ‘You know?’
Park wasn’t sure what to say.
‘You don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I don’t want you to know … I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said.
‘I’m
sorry
for
how
I
welcomed your Eleanor.’
‘Mom, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault.’
‘I don’t think I say this right …’
‘It’s okay, Mindy,’ Park’s dad said softly from the doorway.
‘Come to bed, honey.’ He walked over to the bed and helped Park’s mom up, then stood with his arm wrapped protectively around her.
‘Your mom just wants you to be happy,’ he said to Park. ‘Don’t puss out on our account.’
His mother frowned, like she wasn’t sure whether that counted as a dirty word.
Park waited until the TV was off in his parents’ room. Then he waited a half-hour after that. Then he grabbed his coat and slipped out the back door, on the far side of the house.
He ran until he got to the end of the alley.
Eleanor was so close.
Her stepdad’s truck was in the driveway. Maybe that was good; Park wouldn’t want him coming home while Park was standing there on the front porch. All the lights were off, as far as Park could tell, and there was no sign of the dog …
He climbed the steps as quietly as possible.
He knew which room was Eleanor’s. She’d told him once that she slept by the window, and he knew she had the top bunk. He stood to the side of the window, so he wouldn’t cast a shadow. He was going to tap softly, and if anyone but Eleanor looked out, he was going to run for his life.
Park tapped the top of the glass. Nothing happened. The curtain, or the sheet or whatever it was, didn’t move.
She was probably sleeping. He tapped a little harder and got ready to run. The side of the sheet opened just a sliver, but he couldn’t see in.
Should he run? Should he hide?
He stepped in front of the window. The sheet opened wider.
He could see Eleanor’s face, she looked terrified.
‘Go,’ she mouthed.
He shook his head.
‘Go,’ she mouthed again. Then she pointed away. ‘School,’ she said. At least that’s what he thought she said. Park ran away.
Eleanor All Eleanor could think was that if somebody
were
breaking