“So how do you take it? Milk or sugar? Or both?”
“Actually, ma’am, I was just leaving.”
“No, you sit. Sit.”
Lentz is one of them now—confused and bewildered by Mae’s sudden appearance, her forceful hospitality. He lowers himself into a chair and nods.
“Just milk, please.”
Everyone watches as Gillian adds a slow trickle of milk, clinking a spoon around until the coffee turns to a bland, watered-down shade of beige. Lentz brings the mug to his lips, blowing on it before taking his first sip. No one knows what to say or do next, so they watch this too.
Ethan walks up to Mae, shaking his tasseled handlebars in the air to get her attention. “Thank you for my bike, Grandma. I named him Boomer.”
Mae stares at him blankly. Then she scans the parts scattered across the floor until she notices Jin sitting in the corner. She says you’re welcome as she looks away, but the words sound more like a dismissal. Kyung spends so much time teaching Ethan his manners. Please and thank you. May I and yes, ma’am. Whenever Ethan remembers something without being reminded, Gillian lavishes him with praise. Clearly, he’s grown accustomed to this reaction, because he waits for Mae to compliment him. When she doesn’t, he lowers his handlebars and retreats to the corner with Jin. If Ethan is hurt by her lack of interest or affection, he doesn’t show it, although Kyung feels the familiar sting for them both.
“It was nice of you to come over,” she says, sitting down beside Lentz at the table. “Do you have any news about my house?”
“Yes, ma’am. You and your husband are free to go back whenever you’re ready.”
“Good, then. I want to go back today.”
Everyone looks at her. Even Lentz seems surprised.
“But we have you all set up here,” Gillian says.
“No, not to stay. I just want to start cleaning.”
Jin clears his throat. “Maybe it’s a little too soon for that.”
“You don’t have to come with me,” she says. Her tone is sharp, sharper than she usually takes with him. “I’m tired of lying around.”
“The department has a list of numbers, Mrs. Cho. Professional cleaners, I mean. It’s going to be a lot of work for one person.”
“No, that’s fine. I’d rather do it myself.”
Kyung thinks this is a terrible idea, possibly weeks or even months premature. Although he’s relieved to see Mae out of bed and determined to do something—anything—he doesn’t understand why she wants to clean her house. He worries that she hasn’t thought through how it might feel to return, to revisit the rooms where things happened. He doesn’t want her to go there alone.
“If you’re sure you want to do this today, I’ll drive you,” he says. “I can help too.”
Mae seems irritated by his offer, but they both know she has no choice. Her ankle is still too bruised to attempt the long walk again, and she never learned how to drive.
She turns to Lentz and smiles at him almost sweetly. “Why don’t you let me make you some lunch before you go?”
“Lunch?” Lentz seems terrified by this. “Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.”
“But you must be hungry.”
He’s about to decline again, but Mae is already on her feet. She hobbles past Gillian and scans the ingredients spread out on the counter, frowning at the disarray. Then she takes over the kitchen like it’s her own, opening drawers until she finds a knife to spread the mustard with, opening the refrigerator to search for another head of lettuce. Occasionally, she asks Lentz a question—Ham or turkey? Cheddar or Swiss?—but not once does she ask why he really came to visit, what news he has to report about the case. Kyung feels like he’s watching her have a nervous breakdown. The others seem to think the same. Gillian nudges him in the ribs. He looks at her, not sure what she expects him to say.
“So maybe…,” he guesses, “maybe you should have something to eat too?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Mae is searching through a tall cabinet. When she reaches up to grab a box of plastic wrap, the sleeve of her robe falls, revealing a forearm that looks like a branch, ready to snap in half. Gillian has been leaving trays of food outside her door—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—but all the plates keep coming back untouched. As he stares at Mae’s wrist, it occurs to him that maybe she wasn’t eating at the hospital either.
“There’s a lot of work to do at the other house,” he says gently. “It’s probably a good idea if you eat something before we go, even something small.”
“Listen to the boy,” Jin says. “Eat something.”