“It’s crazy to sell your house so she can decorate a new one. The market—you’re going to get killed.” Kyung regrets his choice of words, but his other option—you’re going to take a beating—is no better than the first. “You’re not going to get what that place is worth, not even close.”
“I don’t have to worry about things like that anymore.”
It’s hard to tell whether Jin is bragging or simply being objective about his wealth. But either way, he’s earned the right not to worry, to do something foolish because he wants to and can.
“It’s your decision, I guess.” Kyung pulls the covers over Ethan. “You should take those off now.”
“Take what off?”
He motions toward Jin’s glasses. “You’ll break them.”
“I can’t sleep without them anymore.”
Kyung nods, aware on some level that sharing a bed with Ethan, feeling the boy’s warm breath and small hands against his skin, probably helps his father feel safe. But their closeness has the opposite effect on him. “Tomorrow,” he says.
“You’ll call the realtor for me tomorrow?”
“Yes, but that’s not what I meant. Tomorrow, you have to let him sleep in his own bed.”
*
Gertie is clearly pleased with the house when she pulls into the driveway. She bounds out of her car like a Labrador and starts taking pictures of the exterior, something she never bothered to do at Kyung and Gillian’s. Instead of the conservative black pantsuit he saw her wearing last, she’s dressed in a T-shirt and shorts with a sweater wrapped around her waist, and her hair is tied back into a stubby ponytail that looks like a paintbrush.
“Morning,” she calls out. “What a gorgeous home your parents have. Absolutely beautiful.”
He’s standing on the front steps waiting for her, but she continues to click away with her camera, assuming what hasn’t been agreed to yet—that the listing is hers to sell. Kyung is content to wait and stare at the sky, which is cloudless and blue, still like water. He doesn’t remember when the seasons changed and spring finally turned into summer.
“Sorry about the workout clothes,” she says sheepishly. “I’d just finished with my trainer when you called.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” he says, bracing himself for her furious handshake as she joins him on the steps.
He didn’t expect her to be available the same day he called, but he could sense something change in her voice as he gave her the details. A property in the Heights seemed to interest her. The address did too. Is it one of those houses at the very top of the hill? she asked. And as soon as he confirmed it: yes, of course, she said. How soon could he meet her there?
Gertie snaps a photo of the garage and two more of the lawn. “Nice landscaping,” she says. “But I can see why your parents want to sell, given their situation.”
He glances at her, confused by her cheerful tone.
“It’s a lot of upkeep,” she continues. “Way too much for an older couple.”
Gertie doesn’t seem to understand what happened here, but Kyung isn’t sure if he’s obligated to tell her, if a crime is something he has to disclose, like a leaky roof or a bad furnace. He holds the front door open and follows her into the entryway, which has been cleared of its rubble, leaving only a tall bronze coatrack and a matching umbrella stand.
Gertie runs her hand along the polished wood banister. “Stunning,” she says. “The details are in pristine condition.”
Her enthusiasm for his parents’ house is so different from her reaction to his own, which in retrospect was largely disinterested and diagnostic. Having never seen this house before, Gertie doesn’t understand all of the things that are wrong with it. And she misses the clues—the stains on the drapes that the dry cleaner couldn’t remove, the faint discolorations on the walls where so many paintings used to hang, but no longer do.
“Did your parents restore everything themselves, or was the work already done when they got here?”
The house had been built in the 1800s. The previous owners bought it as a wreck and spent nearly ten years on renovations, only to run out of money as the end was in sight. Jin quickly stepped in and bought the house, the furniture, and anything else the couple was willing to sell—even their massive boat, which had only touched water twice since changing hands. He was pleased with himself for finding such a bargain, which never sat right with Kyung. He often wondered what had happened to the couple and where they ended up.
“All the big projects were done before my parents bought it,” he says. “Mostly, my mother just focused on the decorating.”
They move into the living room, where Gertie examines a lamp with a base made of dark blue crystal. It was once part of a set, but its broken twin had to be swept out with the trash, lampshade and all.