In the two weeks that followed, Esme put Khai’s house back to rights and began taking the bus home. He assumed she’d taken on the night shift at his mom’s. He should have been happy to have his evenings to himself again—his house didn’t smell of fish-sauce fumes from her cooking and food doctoring anymore—but dinner wasn’t the same without her odd chatter and cheeriness. If he was being honest, his evenings now sucked. The house felt empty, and even without her Viet pop blaring, he couldn’t focus on his work or the TV. He checked the time a lot as he waited for her to walk through the door.
She still shared a bed with him, but she kept her back to him and balanced on the very edge, as far away from him as possible. Sometimes, he worried she’d fall off. Other times, he hoped she’d fall off. So he’d have an excuse to tell her to come closer.
Tonight, it was nearly 10:30 P.M., and she still hadn’t come home. She was usually back by this time, and his stomach churned. He considered calling or texting her, but those were cell phone functions he loathed.
Regardless, by the time 10:45 P.M. rolled around, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He went into his contacts and scrolled down to the phone number for Esme T. His thumb was hovering over the call button when his phone vibrated with an incoming call.
From Esme T.
He accepted the call right away and brought the phone to his ear. “Hi.”
“Oh hi, it’s me. Esme. But you know that, ha? It says that on your phone,” she said with a laugh.
He shook his head. Why was she talking so fast? “Yes, I know it’s you.”
“Sorry if I woke you up. I’m not on a date.” She laughed and cleared her throat. “I just called to tell you I’ll be late. Okay, bye-bye.”
Then she hung up.
That was it? No explanation, no nothing? And why did she mention dating? He’d never imagined her with another man, but he sure as hell was now. The thought irritated the shit out of him.
Gritting his teeth, he called her back. The phone rang and rang and rang. Seriously? She’d just spoken to him. How come she’d—
“Hello?” she said over the background noise. Lots of people spoke at the same time, and was that a baby crying?
“Where are you?”
“I’ll call you back. They just said my name.”
“Wait, where are you?”
“The doctor. I’ll talk later. I have to—”
His chest squeezed tight, knocking the breath out of him. “Which doctor? Where? Why?”
“The clinic by the Asian grocery store, but I’m okay. I just hurt—I have to go. Bye.” For the second time that night, she hung up on him.
She’d hurt what? Herself? Someone else? He hurried out the door and jumped into his car.
? ? ?
Esme hugged her arms tight to her chest as a woman made soothing sounds for her wailing baby girl and walked back and forth across the waiting room. The baby’s face was red and teary from several minutes of hard crying, and it made Esme’s arms ache to hold her own girl. Jade had never gotten so sick, thankfully, but Esme had. She remembered when the fever and pain had been at their worst, she’d told Jade to keep her distance so she didn’t get sick, too, and Jade had broken down into tears.
“Don’t cry,” Esme had said.
“I’m not crying because I’m scared I’ll get sick,” her girl had replied. “I’m crying because I love you.”
Esme’s longing for her girl grew unbearable, and she would have offered to bounce this stranger’s baby if her ankle weren’t swollen to two times its regular size and propped between a pillow and an ice pack.