*
Elinor doesn’t recognize him when he pulls into the parking lot. She shields her eyes from his headlights and squints, her expression confused and maybe even a bit frightened. Kyung realizes that his timing couldn’t have been worse. It looks like she was locking up for the night. Had he arrived a few minutes later, he could have avoided her altogether. He gets out of his car and shakes his legs, which are tight and stiff from the drive. Elinor picks up her bags as he walks toward her, hooking the handles over her arms protectively.
“Hello,” he calls out.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, Mae’s son. Kyung.”
She looks visibly relieved to hear his name. “Oh. I’m sorry. I couldn’t see who pulled in. For a second there, I thought I’d forgotten a meeting or something.…” The closer he gets, the more the pleasant chattiness in her voice begins to fade. “Kyung, are you all right?”
He knows he looks awful. He doesn’t even need a mirror to confirm it. He made it back from Erie in just under ten hours, waylaid by a flat on his return. He should have slept while waiting for the auto club to arrive, but all he wanted to do was get home. It’s a miracle he’s still upright now. He scratches his itchy, oily head, catching a whiff of his body odor as he lifts his arm. He stops a safe distance away, hoping she won’t notice the smell.
“I just drove back from Pennsylvania. I was there—for work.” He feels the need to mention work, if only to assure her there’s a reason for his appearance, but the lie doesn’t sound convincing enough. “So, is this your studio?”
“Yes, this is it.”
The building is a two-story brick box with a shiny black door and a sign beside it that reads HAMEL INTERIOR DESIGN. It’s not quite the successful-looking business that Elinor made it out to be at the reception, but it’s clearly a real business—not something she’s running out of an extra bedroom in her spare time.
“May I?” He gestures at the bags in her arms, aware that it might help to act like a gentleman since he doesn’t look like one.
“Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
She hands him the bags, which are achingly heavy. All three contain thick plastic binders and fabric samples held together by metal rings. He looks at her uncertainly, his shoulders curling forward with the weight.
“They’re design folios,” she explains. “Homework for a meeting tomorrow. My car’s just over here.”
He deposits the bags in her backseat, catching a glimpse of himself in the passenger window as he shuts the door. The skin under his eyes is discolored and inflamed. It looks like he recently lost a fight.
“I didn’t expect to see you here so soon, Kyung. I thought you might need more time.” She smiles at him hesitantly. “It’s kind of late to start packing, don’t you think?”
He’s not sure how to tell her that he has no intention of packing at all.
“And you do know you’re eventually going to need a truck, right? You won’t make much of a dent taking things in that—that car.”
There’s a vaguely distasteful sound in her voice, and he thinks he understands why. The flashy yellow Mustang that looked so slick in the rental lot just looks sad and abused now, streaked with dirt and dead bugs.
“Actually, I wasn’t planning to move out today so much as move in.”
“Move in—here?”
“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Elinor seems confused again. Kyung has been alone with his thoughts for too long. It takes him a few moments to realize that she needs more explanation to understand the things he decided in the car.
“You said my mother paid the rent through the end of the year, so I thought I’d make use of the place. I shouldn’t be here for more than a month or two.”
“But why? What are you going to use it for?”
Her suspiciousness doesn’t offend him; he’d distrust someone in his condition too. She probably thinks he’ll wreck the apartment and maybe even the studio beneath it.
“My wife and I, we’ve been having some problems because of all the things that happened this summer, so I need a place to stay until I find one of my own. I thought, maybe since my mother paid through December, I could just crash here.” He immediately regrets his use of the word “crash,” which he worries implies destruction. “I’d like to be close enough to see my son while I look for an apartment in Marlboro.…”
Elinor seems embarrassed for him. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve been having troubles lately. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted that for you. Of course you’re welcome to stay for a while. Actually, why don’t you come inside for a few minutes? Let me show you around.”