“It was my fault,” Leah burbled through her tears. “It was my fault. I have to confess my sin. Repent,” she cried.
Casey checked the door again.
“Please don’t do that. Please don’t hurt my father.” She touched her mother’s head. “I have never asked you for anything like this.”
Leah continued to sob. No one came to the door.
Tina offered to come to New York right away, but Joseph said it was okay. He explained that she’d had a spontaneous miscarriage, but the D&C had gone fine. The nurse said so.
“Umma can come home tonight. It was just a big shock for all of us. And Casey is here.”
“Casey is there?”
“Yes. She came a while ago. It’s easier for her to take care of Umma because she’s in New York. You have to think about Timothy and your husband. Don’t worry. And Chul needs you to be there while he has finals. You said his grades are really important.”
“Yes, but if Umma is sick. . .” It would be wildly expensive for her to take the baby and go to New York again. Their budget was tight as it was. “I could try—”
“She’s okay, Tina. Elder Shim said that she’ll heal very soon from something like this. It’s not something very serious. You should stay in California.”
“But, Daddy—”
“Tina, you don’t have to do everything. I know how hard you’re working at home. Casey can help out, and I’ll take care of Umma, too. You don’t have to do everything, Tina. I’ll tell Umma that you wanted to come. She knows that.”
Tina nodded. He was trying to make sure that she didn’t feel bad about not being able to come. “I’ll call her at home, then. Later.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Bye, Daddy. Thank you for calling. Take care of yourself.”
“Okay, okay. You take care of yourself, too, Tina. Good care. You can’t get sick. Your family depends on you.”
As he approached Leah’s hospital room, Joseph saw the large group of women by her closed door. It took a minute for him to realize that the group was made up of some of the female elders and deaconesses from the hospitality committee and many of the female choir members. The professor was not there.
At the sight of Elder Han, the women flipped through their hymnals to find the right page of “Our God, Our Help in Ages Past.” They bowed.
“Waaah,” he exclaimed, astonished by the large number. There were at least twenty-five women.
“Is she all right?” asked Mrs. Noh, the choir secretary.
“Yes. She had a miscarriage. She’ll be able to go home today.”
The women clicked their tongues. It was always a heartbreak to have a miscarriage. Many of them had experienced it themselves. Of course, it was not an illness, but it was terrible just the same.
“We didn’t want to knock on the door. In case she was sleeping.”
“Have you been waiting here all this time?”
“Just a few minutes. Maybe you can knock for us,” a choir member suggested.
Joseph nodded and knocked on the door himself. Casey called out to him, “Come in.”
He opened the door, and at that moment, the choir burst into song. A hush fell at the sound. People leaned out of open doors to listen, and the doctors and nurses stopped moving for a moment. Nurse Bulosan, who’d spoken to them earlier, stood still to sing along. She crossed herself.
The music filled the hall, and Leah began to sing. The church had come to her. It was Sunday night, when the choir members should have been with their families. How did the girls leave behind their children and husbands, with dinners unmade, houses left to clean, all to come and sing for her, a sinner?
Casey helped her mother to sit up a little. Leah sang through her tears: “Under the shadow of Thy throne, Thy saints have dwelt secure; sufficient is Thine arm alone, and our defense is sure.”
Leah turned her head and saw her husband standing by the door. His concern for her was so clear. He smiled at her, and she reached her hand toward his direction.
13 GIFT
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Unu caught the Metro-North to New Haven, then took a bus to Foxwoods with a hundred bucks of gambling money. Following his bookie’s advice, he’d taken no credit cards or ATM card with him, because the temptation to borrow on cash advances would be too great. By nighttime, he returned with exactly a hundred and thirty-two dollars in his money clip. The transit cost and a Subway sandwich had neatly erased his thirty-two percent gain. Six hours of travel time door-to-door, five hours of gambling, with net zero in the margins—finally, Unu was standing in front of his apartment door.