“Did you have fun?”
Ethan looks at Jin, giggling in a way that seems almost secretive. Such an innocent gesture, but it confirms what he’s suspected for weeks. There’s a transfer of affection happening, a slow siphoning off from Kyung to Jin. He doesn’t know how to make it stop, much less reverse it. If he tells Ethan to stay away from his grandfather, he’ll demand to know why. Kyung would never be able to answer his son’s questions truthfully, not without changing him.
“I’m glad you had a good time.” He takes a bottle of wine from the table and fills his glass just shy of the rim.
His excess apparently amuses Connie, whose laugh sounds like a donkey’s bray. “That must have been one heck of a drive.”
“Save some for the rest of us,” Gillian suggests gently.
“But you were the one who said we’re on vacation.” Kyung takes a long drink, surprised by the pleasant, unfamiliar taste in his mouth. He picks up the bottle and examines the label. It’s a 1989 white Burgundy. There are two more bottles just like it on the table.
“You had the same reaction I did,” Connie says, his mood as jovial as Kyung has ever seen it. “I guess we were just drinking the cheap stuff all these years, right?”
From the kitchen, Mae and Marina file out, carrying plates of bright red lobsters sitting on beds of lettuce.
Mae takes one look at Kyung and frowns. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”
“I finished early,” he repeats, hopeful that no one will ask what he actually finished.
“But I didn’t buy enough lobsters.”
“It’s fine, Mae,” Gillian says. “These are big. We can share.”
Mae looks put out by the offer. She doesn’t like running out of food, which she says is a sign of a bad hostess. “I need another place setting,” she tells Marina.
“Yes, Mrs. Cho.”
Vivi studies Marina as she leaves the room. There’s something about Vivi’s expression—curious, but pleased—that suggests she’s never been attended to like this. It’s obvious now why Mae did such an about-face and decided to bring Marina to the Cape. She wanted her around to help serve the guests. She probably assumed that people like Connie and Vivi would be impressed.
When Marina returns, she sets a plate of lobster in front of Kyung.
“Where did this come from?” he asks.
“I don’t like lobster, Mr. Kyung.”
“But it’s yours. You should have it.”
He tries to return the plate to her, but Marina is already heading back to the kitchen, turning only to exchange a glance with Mae to see if she approves. Mae ignores her as she takes her place at the end of the table, whipping a cloth napkin open and spreading it across her lap. She’s dressed more elegantly than she has been for weeks, with an emerald green blouse that ties at the neck and a thin gray skirt. Everyone, it seems, has dressed for dinner. Even Ethan, who’s sporting a miniature blue bow tie. Kyung glances at his shirt, which is spattered with flecks of dried blood. He realizes that he forgot to bring the suitcase that Gillian packed for him, a lapse he hardly knows how to explain.
“So Gillian tells me you’re a biology professor,” Vivi says.
Kyung accidentally glances at her cleavage. He can’t help himself. There’s so much of it, and so clearly arranged for display. He turns his attention to the vase of tulips on the table, but the blurry yellow buds appear to be moving in circles, orbiting and reorbiting each other.
“Do you enjoy teaching?” she asks.
“Ha!” he laughs too loudly. Such a stupid, predictable question. “You don’t really want to know the answer to that, do you?”
Vivi seems charmed by this. “I guess I feel the same way. I mean, I love teaching, but seventh graders aren’t exactly what they used to be.” She gives Connie a knowing look. “I can’t wait to retire in a few years. There are so many places I’ve put off visiting, and now I finally have someone to travel with.”
The polite response would be to ask Vivi where they’re planning to go, but the room is incredibly bright. The chandelier reflects light everywhere. Even the silverware is too shiny. Kyung lowers his head and studies a spot of blood on his pants. Like the tulips, the spot won’t stay in one place. It resembles a heart at first, then an ace, then a leaf. When he looks up again, the conversation has come to an awkward pause. Everyone is trying not to stare. Kyung empties his wineglass and leans over Gillian for an open bottle that’s too far to reach. She nudges him away with her elbow and fills his glass for him, pouring a stingy half inch that he finishes in one gulp.
“So … these are darling.” Vivi picks up one of the porcelain seashells scattered across the table. “I didn’t even notice them before.”
The shells have a thick gold band in the middle, separating them into two halves held together by a button. When Vivi presses hers, the shell pops open like a box.
“What’s it supposed to do?” she asks.