Two hours passed, but Douglas had not returned. Charles was still asleep. The kitchen was nearly clean, and Leah had drawn up a list using a small brown bag of all the things the house needed, like paper towels, laundry soap, lightbulbs, and basic food items like milk, juice, and coffee. He had a tablespoon of cooking oil left in the bottle and no white sugar or tea. From the moldy take-out containers in the refrigerator, it looked as if he had been ordering in; otherwise, he’d been eating out of cans or boxes. Perhaps he ate out all the time, but she had no way of knowing. Leah washed the inside and outside of the Japanese rice cooker with hot water and soap, and she opened the new bag of rice found in the corner of the pantry and made a fresh pot. She felt happier than she had in a long while. What she was doing really mattered. She carried up the clean pile of sheets and went to Charles’s bedroom and discovered the mess Elder Shim had already witnessed.
She made up the bed and diligently carried down load after load of wash and sorted the piles by colors. It was six in the evening, and she hadn’t heard from the elder yet. Leah didn’t know where she was exactly or where the nearest subway station was located. There were no taxis outside the window, and she didn’t know whom to call. The cooker beeped three times when the rice was done, and she opened the lid and fluffed the steamed grains. She was hungry herself. It would have been nice to have a cracker or an apple, but there wasn’t anything like that in the house. She knew because she’d already looked. There were four cans of Campbell’s Chunky soup and three tins of tuna in oil. Leah picked up the broom, dustpan, and rags and went upstairs.
After she picked up the books and scores from the floor and stacked them on the chest of drawers, she moved the scattered pairs of shoes left in his unused fireplace into his closet, then cleaned the floors as her mother had taught her to do—first sweep carefully, then wipe with a wet rag, and then last, a dry one.
“What are you doing?” Charles asked her, leaning uneasily against the doorjamb of his bedroom.
“Huh,” Leah said, startled. She touched her heart with her hand. Concentrating on her work, she’d almost forgotten about him.
“Who let you up here?” he asked, his voice quiet and dazed. He wasn’t angry, but he was annoyed at himself, because he couldn’t honestly recall how the soloist had gotten into his house. He rubbed his upper arms, feeling the chill of the bedroom.
Leah had opened the windows to air the room. She’d heard somewhere that rooms with sick people should be aired often.
Charles marveled at the cleanliness of the room. The floors gleamed with the original polish, reminding him of the way the house had looked initially when he and his father had come by with the real estate broker.
“I came with Elder Shim,” she said. Didn’t he remember? “But he got called to the hospital. And I was cleaning up. I’m sorry. I was trying to help—”
“No. I mean, okay. I. . . I—” Charles closed his eyes, feeling dizzy.
“Are you all right?”
Charles clenched his teeth, trying to focus.
“Have you eaten today?” she asked.
“Where is Elder Shim?”
“I—he was paged, and he’s coming back soon.” Hadn’t he heard what she’d said only a moment ago? she wondered. “I’ll leave as soon as he comes. I just wanted to finish the laundry.”
Charles noticed then that all the clothes on the floor were gone.
“Maybe you should lie down,” Leah said, worried that he would faint. She stood up from the floor and went to him.
Charles moved toward the bed, and on his third step, he nearly crashed into her. She stayed close to him, trying to balance herself in case she needed to break his fall. He weaved a bit, and Leah slipped her hand beneath his arm to prop him up. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat.
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be home?” he asked as she put the covers over his legs.
“If you can call a taxi for me, I can go, but Elder Shim is coming back to—”
“I’m not asking you to leave, I just thought your husband—”
“He’s in California.”
“Oh.” Charles didn’t ask any further.
“I think you should eat something. Wait here.” In his weakness, Leah permitted herself to possess greater authority in her voice.
It took two trips to bring his soup, fish, and rice up the stairs. He drank two cans of juice and ate his food silently in steady bites. He finished his dinner, and Leah felt pleased at his appetite. When he was done, she took the dishes downstairs and began to clean the living room. Now, wide awake and fed, Charles sat up in bed, wondering what to say to her. The doorbell chimed, and Leah rushed to get it.