Leah was incapable of responding to his teasing. Her friend Kyung-ah would have known what to say, but she was on the other side of the basement, drinking coffee with her sister.
“Where’s the elder?” he asked. Elder Han usually walked ahead of his wife, with the deaconess following closely behind.
Leah swallowed before speaking. “Tina had her baby.”
“Uh-muh. I didn’t know she was pregnant.” Douglas smiled broadly. The doctor had a great fondness for children.
Leah turned a bit. She hadn’t told anyone except for Kyung-ah and some of the girls in her geh that her younger one had gotten pregnant in what must’ve been within days of her wedding. Very much the time frame in which Casey had been conceived. But for Tina and Chul, the condom had broken, and they hadn’t wanted an abortion.
“And she’s still in medical school?” There was concern in his voice.
“She finished the first semester of her second year, but she’s taking a break for now. Until things get a little easier. Chul is finishing his third, and this is an important year for him.”
“It’s important for both of them to finish,” Douglas said with a deep nod for emphasis. The deaconess’s expression grew more reticent. “So is Elder Han visiting the baby?”
“Yes.” Leah anticipated the judgment. It would’ve made more sense if she had gone to California to help with the baby, but she would not travel. The last time she’d been on a plane was when she’d first come to America. “He went to California on Thursday. I stayed here to take care of the store. One of us had to. Stay, that is.”
“Of course, of course.”
“It’s a boy,” she offered.
“How nice for you.”
“Yes, finally. A boy.”
Douglas raised his eyebrows. He’d never wished for a boy. Ella was a wonderful daughter to him.
“They named him Timothy. After the young man who helped St. Paul.”
“Yes, yes. A fine name . . Deaconess Chung can’t come with us today,” Douglas told her. He was a little nervous about this but didn’t want to show it.
“Oh?” Leah blinked. She’d never been alone in the car with Elder Shim.
“She had to take her son to his chemistry tutor. Stanley’s going to take his Regents exam in June, and she said he’s failing everything. I thought she might start to cry.” Douglas made a worried face. “He’s always giving her trouble with his schoolwork. You see, sons are not so wonderful,” he said.
Leah smiled. Elder Shim was being nice, because she didn’t have any sons. Her husband, too, had never complained that she hadn’t given him a son.
Douglas motioned toward the exit near the parking lot and paused. He wanted her to walk ahead of him, so Leah took the first step.
Douglas drove a dark green Subaru station wagon. He opened the passenger door for her. Leah smelled Japanese air freshener—something like grapefruit or orange. There was a tin of pink waxy deodorizer by the cup holder.
“What are you carrying?” he asked, buckling his seat belt. On her lap, the deaconess was holding three stacked metal containers wrapped in a large packing cloth. It had been a long time since he had seen do-si-rak containers—what day workers in Korea would have used to carry their lunch.
“Soup and some fish I made last night.”
“How nice,” he said. In the back of the car, he kept cases of canned fruit juice for sick parishioners. The choir director would get a case.
“Oh, the fish.” Leah wrinkled her nose. “Should we open the window?” she asked, anxious that the smell of soy sauce and garlic from the fish might bother Elder Shim.
“It smells wonderful. The choir director will get better right away after he eats your food,” Douglas said. He was humming as he shifted the gear from park to drive. “Do your daughters cook?”
“Not really. I wanted them to study for school,” she said. “Ella cooks wonderfully. I remember her cookies. The ones she baked for the older parishioners. They were delicious.”
“Ella is a gourmet cook. But she doesn’t make much Korean food. Says the cookbooks aren’t very good. But she knows how to make kimchi. She found a recipe in The New York Times. Isn’t that funny?”
Leah nodded, feeling sorry that there had been no one to teach his daughter.
“I’ll let her know. What you said about the cookies. Maybe she’ll send you a batch.”
“Oh no, no. I mean, I’m sure she’s so busy. With. . . with all the work and her baby—”