by C. L. Stone
The relationship plan had sounded like a good idea at the time. There was the other side of this, however, that Kota, brilliant Kota, had pointed out.
It wasn’t just a matter of all of them agreeing to do this. If she didn’t really love one of them, it still wouldn’t work.
She’d not only have to be on board with it, she’d have to feel strongly enough about all of them.
What if she didn’t feel the same way about him?
Maybe this dinner on Saturday would change things. Maybe while he was there, he could ask Carol’s permission to take Sang out on a date. That’d get her out of that house more.
Going on an actual date with Sang would be even nicer.
Yet, there needed to be more. He needed to stop hesitating about reaching out to her. If he could text her, it’d probably be better.
She was going to be spending time in the attic. Her phone was on vibrate. She could answer whenever she found a moment.
Sean chewed on his lip, picking up the phone and starting to type out a message to her.
Sean: Hi Pookie.
He paused in the message, unsure what else to say.
What could he talk about? Camp? No, that had been a disaster. Ask her whether she’d taken her vitamin today?
Did he want to be her doctor or date her?
Ugh.
He tapped at the screen, making emoticon hearts and then deleting them. Nothing seemed right.
Finally, he typed out a message.
Sean: Hi Pookie. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow at dinner. Can you believe Carol agreed to let me come over?
He sent it quickly and then grimaced and reconsidered the message when it was too late. Sang was most likely in an attic and miserable because she was back at home. Here he was talking about Carol. He wanted to talk about her.
The passenger door opened quickly. Sean jumped in his seat, dropping his phone into his lap.
His mother peered in at him. She wore a light down coat, her smooth black hair cut short around her chin. Her Japanese features still retained their youth, despite her being in her late forties.
It was her eyes that shot right to every wrinkle in his clothing, and to every speck of dust in the car. There was the slight wrinkle of a frown, the only serious wrinkle she had. The crease deepened as she took in every little flaw.
Sean coughed to clear his throat and sat up, putting his phone in the cup holder. “Hello. How was your flight?”
She recoiled her head. “Have you caught a cold?”
“No,” he said. She had an inherent fear of colds. Something in the culture. He got out of the car, hurrying around to collect her rolling suitcase and put it in the backseat.
She got in, sitting neatly in the passenger seat. She placed her purse in her lap and put her seat belt on before Sean made it back around to the driver’s seat.
Sean got in and put the car into drive, and they rolled out of the airport.
She leaned over, checking all the dials and lights on his car. “Your oil needs to be changed.”
“It has a month,” Sean said.
“You should do it before you forget. Also, you need more gas.”
He swallowed back a rebuttal. It wasn’t any good arguing with her. The tank was showing half-full, but she never let a vehicle go below three-quarters if she could help it. What if gas prices rise quickly? What if there were an emergency?
The streets were nearly empty. The drive from the airport was pretty easy for him.
He took a deep breath, glancing at his mother. She sat neatly with her hands in her lap and gazed out the window.
Rocky beginning, but maybe she’d gotten it out of her system? “So how are things?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said quietly. Too quietly.
His tone was too loud.
He smothered a grumble and softened his voice as much as he could. “Uh...how’s Dad?”
Before she could answer, his phone vibrated, rattling against the plastic of the cup holder, and a few coins at the bottom added to the insufferable sound.
He reached for it to turn off the buzzing and check on what it was. Sang had sent a message back. He itched to read it, but he couldn’t text and drive.
“Do you need to answer that?” his mother asked.
“It isn’t the hospital,” he said, ignoring it for now. He probably shouldn’t have messaged Sang yet.
She nodded. Some strands of her dark hair fell forward and she expertly combed them back. “How is work at the hospital?”
“I’m working long hours,” he said. “Sometimes I may be sleeping at the office. So much to do. They’ve got us working overtime. You may not see me a lot.”
She smiled pleasantly at this. “Shikata ga nai.”
It can’t be helped.
It probably sounded to her like he was complaining. “Don’t get me wrong. The work is interesting.”
“Having lunch with your superiors should improve your chances of finishing your internship early.”
“Of course,” he said slowly, without much heart. It was all she ever asked about. How quickly he could get to being a doctor. Securing his job. Working his way up the ladder.
Not that he had much choice as to what he wanted to do. She asked nicely, but she showed no sympathy. Only cared that he worked harder.
He glanced at his phone as he drove, feeling time slipping by, wondering what Sang had written back. He sped up as much as he could, focusing on the road.
He didn’t care what she’d said. Well, he did, but it was more that he’d hesitated for so long before just sending her a text message, and now here she was responding. Why hadn’t he just done this before?
Because in the beginning, she couldn’t. And in some areas, it was dangerous. It wasn’t his first instinct to text her. Or call.
If she couldn’t be free of living at that house, maybe she’d be allowed to keep her cell phone and they could text and call like normal people.
When they finally stopped at a red light, he picked up the phone, checking the messages.
Sang: Do you think it’s a good idea? I’m so nervous! Some possible good news: sounds like she’d consider sending me to a private school.
That was good news. He typed a message but only half-finished before the light changed.
He put the phone back down in his lap, letting out an impatient breath between his lips.
His mother motioned to the phone. “Do you need me to complete a message for you?”
“No,” he said quickly, and then moved his phone from his lap to the cup holder. “Sorry...”
“Is it Owen?” she asked. “I could text him for you.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
She smiled wider, a little too much. “It’s no problem.”
She was on to him. There had been times when she’d used his phone to text work or Owen and it was never a problem. Even if it were Academy, they never mentioned anything important directly.
Sean sat back into the seat. “It’s no one. Just a girl...” Not to dismiss Sang as “just” anything, but he didn’t want it to be a big deal. He couldn’t lie to his mom, but he also didn’t want to hear his mother’s infernal questions that were bound to come.
Her head bobbed in a knowing nod. She’d probably suspected from the start with the way he was behaving, blushing and hiding the phone. “An intern?”
“She’s still in school.” Anyone his own age was of course still in school. He’d graduated well ahead of anyone he’d ever known.
She pressed her lips together firmly for a moment, as if giving it considerable thought. “My father always said to focus on the goal. It is easy to get distracted from the journey.”
Her father was always pushing her in her line of work. Sean got pushed the same way. Over and over. “I’m already a doctor,” he said, taking the ramp off the I-26 and into some light traffic. “In a few months, I’ll even be able to start my own practice. A small office if I wanted.”
Her eyes widen
ed. “Is Dr. Roberts not a good mentor?”
He grimaced again. “Shouldn’t I start my own career? Be the head of my own place?”
“You’d save money working at the hospital. Your internship might be over, but in Japan, you’d still be an apprentice for many years.”
He hated to remind her that in Japan, he would never have graduated so early from school.
Technically, he’d skipped high school, something he probably couldn’t get away with over there. A couple months of testing and he’d aced the ACTs. The college had put him on a fast track. He could have gone to any number of medical schools in the country, but he’d stayed here, for Owen and the Academy.
It was the one choice his mother couldn’t budge him on, but she was happy with him resigning to be a doctor.
“Besides, do you want to spend all your time at an office and no time with a future wife?” she asked.
Leading question. He dipped his chin down, but focused on the road, refusing to look at the phone again. He didn’t want her to know about Sang at this point.
How could he possibly explain to his mother about her? Would she ever approve?
Miles later, he pulled onto an avenue filled with condo complexes. His neighbors kept the standard gardens that were given, with short hedges and tiny front lawns. His was at the end, the only condo with a multitude of rose bushes, so many that they were nearly overwhelming.
Owen didn’t have enough lawn for his hobby, so he had to bombard Sean’s. At least Sean never had to care for his own lawn. Owen took care of it.
Sean parked in front of his place and got out, put his phone and keys in his pocket and opened the back for her suitcase, all before she could unbuckle.
The air was getting colder since it was after dark. Not quite a frost, but almost. The air was heavy with dampness.
The phone seemed to burn a hole in his pocket. He felt the edges of it through the denim.
He hated waiting so long to get back to her.
He tugged the suitcase out of the back of the car quickly and carried it rather than slow down to roll it. He ushered his mother to the door.
She stopped at one of the rose bushes that still had a few late blossoms in midwinter. She touched the petals gently. “How does he get them to bloom all year?”
He hid an eyeroll. Perfect Owen with his roses and interesting hobbies. “Don’t know,” he said. “You’ll have to ask him.”
She said nothing, simply continued to feel the petals with her fingertips. She wasn’t going to acknowledge his snark.
He pressed his lips together. He was going to snap at her just because he was antsy about Sang and a little peeved with Owen lately. Giving his mother attitude wasn’t going to help matters. He tried to smile at her and even stopped to pick one of the roses with fewer thorns to give to her.
“Welcome back,” he said.
There was a small smoothing of the tiny wrinkle at her lips, and she almost smiled.
Maybe this visit wouldn’t be too bad. He just had to be a little extra nice to her so she wouldn’t notice how tense he was.
And just pretend to be at the hospital while handling the situation with Sang.
Sean turned from her, hoping she’d go easy on him. He pictured the condo as being in chaos inside after getting home from camping. Last he’d heard, Academy people had been by and dumped a bunch of stuff off in his living room.
He used his keys to open the door and allowed her inside. In the entryway, she paused quickly, taking off her shoes and putting them away on a shoe rack by the door.
When she was done, she shifted and motioned for him for his shoes.
He grunted, wanting to get into the house, but quickly kicked his shoes off for her.
She held them between two fingers and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll make sure these are cleaned.”
“You don’t have to...”
She continued to hold them and turned, holding them at arm’s length.
Were they stinky? But he knew better than that. He’d been out at camp, and there was a bit of dirt between the grooves at the bottom.
She stopped short again, preventing him from entering with her luggage, and she examined the shoe rack, picking up each shoe and checking the bottoms.
He sighed, a little too loudly. “Can I come in?”
She ignored him and then put the shoes she was carrying down on the floor. “I can just bring cleaner here. It may be faster.”
He repositioned the small brown floor mat before she could do it and pushed her suitcase further down the short hall toward the living room.
The smell of ramen met his nose, the scent of noodles and salty broth whetting his appetite.
Sean hadn’t left anything to cook. Someone was here.
He groaned internally. He suspected who it was and wished he’d picked another night.
The living and dining areas were open, and the space was surprisingly tidy, cleaner than even Sean had left it. The coffee table and entertainment center were dust-free. The white couch appeared vacuumed, with lines across the material.
Yup. It was Owen. He was usually the only one who tidied that well.
His mother scanned the living room, and then the dining table. This was set with cloth napkins and placemats prepared for three.
“You two didn’t have to do this,” she said. “Please don’t go out of your way for me.”
“This is nothing,” Sean said through partially clenched teeth. He rolled the suitcase into the living room, stopping it by the coffee table. “Everyday thing.”
And then he realized she knew this wasn’t just him. She knew her son too well. He didn’t vacuum the couch.
His mother went to the kitchen, opening the door just enough to pass through, and it swung closed behind her. “Owen?” Her voice carried in the kitchen. “So lovely to see you. How nice of you to cook. It smells wonderful.”
Sean tilted his head back and forth and mimicked her. So lovely... She never told him that.
Sean ignored his mother and Owen in the kitchen and fished his phone out of his pocket, looking back over Sang’s message again. Owen had probably done him a favor. This would give him a few spare minutes.
He rolled the suitcase into the hallway and opened the guest room door. The air smelled like the window had been opened recently, probably by Owen, to air it out a bit. The wooden bed and side tables were short. The mattress had a clean white comforter, something his mother preferred.
The closet was open, boxes that had been inside removed, allowing space for her to hang things.
Owen might have thought of everything, so it made it difficult to be too mad at him.
Sean sat on the bed and held the phone in his hands to type back to Sang.
Sean: Of course it’s a good idea! I’ll get on her good side, and I’ll be able to maybe take you on a date next week. Just watch. I’m great with moms. They like me.
Sean: And that is good news. You won’t be there long if she’s willing to let you go to a private school.
He held the phone between his hands, gazing absently at the digital keyboard. What else could he say? A vibration came with the return message from her.
She was quick. Must not be too busy.
Sang: How long do you think it will take?
Sean slumped a bit, his heart sinking, feeling a small prickle of ice at the center. Poor girl.
There were voices in the kitchen. Owen was carrying on a conversation.
He tapped out a message.
Sean: If I could get you out of there now, I would. As soon as possible. How are you holding up?
He stared down at the phone. Excitement quickened his pulse. He watched the message come up.
Sang: North’s here. He’s confident I’ll be out of here soon, too. I’m nervous. She could say no. And what about my stepmother? And my dad?
Nervous. He was, too. Sean relaxed on his back on the bed, holding the phone on his stomach. He stared at the ceiling, trying to come up with something t
o ease her mind.
He needed to call her. To hear her voice. He remembered how Kota had looked after just talking to her. He knew she wasn’t as strong right now.
Probably a bad idea to do it from the guest room. Maybe not even tonight. His mother was near, and she could come calling for him any minute, wondering what was going on.
He sent another message.
Sean: Your dad wants any chance of the past being brought up squashed, most likely. This is something he’d want. We’ll give it to him.
Sang: He won’t even look at me right now.
Sean: He’s scared, like you. But don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on what he does. Most likely he’d leap at the chance to send you to a private school. It would help solidify your records, in his mind.
Sang: What about school? With Hendricks? What about Marie? Even if I left the house with the premise I’d be at a private school, Marie might notice if I was walking around Ashley Waters.
She was right. Marie, or even Jimmy, would notice this. Before he could respond, more messages were coming in.
Sang: And she’s planning on moving soon. What then?
Sang: And that doesn’t stop my stepmother from saying something in the future when she gets back. Marie will tell them everything if she thinks it will get Carol fed up enough to leave.
Sang: Jimmy, the boy that came here, he went through the attic. He may do it again. The guys can’t hang out in here forever. They’ll get caught.
Sang: I don’t want to be alone here.
The words broke through him. She echoed the same concerns and questions they all had about this situation. This wasn’t good. The ice starting in his heart worked over his whole chest, and nerves shook through him as he replied.
Sean: Let me call you. Hang up on me if you need. You don’t need to talk. Maybe hide where that beanbag chair is.
It took a few minutes before she replied.
Sang: Okay.
He leapt off the guest bed and rushed down the hall as quietly as he could in bare feet.
He went to his bedroom and shut the door, turning the lock. It wouldn’t stop Owen, but his mother wouldn’t walk in on him at least.