Jung Yun - Shelter

“You had the same reaction I did,” Connie says, his mood as jovial as Kyung has ever seen it. “I guess we were just drinking the cheap stuff all these years, right?”

From the kitchen, Mae and Marina file out, carrying plates of bright red lobsters sitting on beds of lettuce.

Mae takes one look at Kyung and frowns. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“I finished early,” he repeats, hopeful that no one will ask what he actually finished.

“But I didn’t buy enough lobsters.”

“It’s fine, Mae,” Gillian says. “These are big. We can share.”

Mae looks put out by the offer. She doesn’t like running out of food, which she says is a sign of a bad hostess. “I need another place setting,” she tells Marina.

“Yes, Mrs. Cho.”

Vivi studies Marina as she leaves the room. There’s something about Vivi’s expression — curious, but pleased — that suggests she’s never been attended to like this. It’s obvious now why Mae did such an about-face and decided to bring Marina to the Cape. She wanted her around to help serve the guests. She probably assumed that people like Connie and Vivi would be impressed.

When Marina returns, she sets a plate of lobster in front of Kyung.

“Where did this come from?” he asks.

“I don’t like lobster, Mr. Kyung.”

“But it’s yours. You should have it.”

He tries to return the plate to her, but Marina is already heading back to the kitchen, turning only to exchange a glance with Mae to see if she approves. Mae ignores her as she takes her place at the end of the table, whipping a cloth napkin open and spreading it across her lap. She’s dressed more elegantly than she has been for weeks, with an emerald green blouse that ties at the neck and a thin gray skirt. Everyone, it seems, has dressed for dinner. Even Ethan, who’s sporting a miniature blue bow tie. Kyung glances at his shirt, which is spattered with flecks of dried blood. He realizes that he forgot to bring the suitcase that Gillian packed for him, a lapse he hardly knows how to explain.

“So Gillian tells me you’re a biology professor,” Vivi says.

Kyung accidentally glances at her cleavage. He can’t help himself. There’s so much of it, and so clearly arranged for display. He turns his attention to the vase of tulips on the table, but the blurry yellow buds appear to be moving in circles, orbiting and reorbiting each other.

“Do you enjoy teaching?” she asks.

“Ha!” he laughs too loudly. Such a stupid, predictable question. “You don’t really want to know the answer to that, do you?”

Vivi seems charmed by this. “I guess I feel the same way. I mean, I love teaching, but seventh graders aren’t exactly what they used to be.” She gives Connie a knowing look. “I can’t wait to retire in a few years. There are so many places I’ve put off visiting, and now I finally have someone to travel with.”

The polite response would be to ask Vivi where they’re planning to go, but the room is incredibly bright. The chandelier reflects light everywhere. Even the silverware is too shiny. Kyung lowers his head and studies a spot of blood on his pants. Like the tulips, the spot won’t stay in one place. It resembles a heart at first, then an ace, then a leaf. When he looks up again, the conversation has come to an awkward pause. Everyone is trying not to stare. Kyung empties his wineglass and leans over Gillian for an open bottle that’s too far to reach. She nudges him away with her elbow and fills his glass for him, pouring a stingy half inch that he finishes in one gulp.

“So … these are darling.” Vivi picks up one of the porcelain seashells scattered across the table. “I didn’t even notice them before.”

The shells have a thick gold band in the middle, separating them into two halves held together by a button. When Vivi presses hers, the shell pops open like a box.

“What’s it supposed to do?” she asks.

“Sometimes I lean place cards on them,” Mae says. “Mostly, they’re for decoration.”

“How sweet. They remind me of something my grandmother would have collected. She loved anything porcelain.”

“You should take them, then. The whole set. I think I have twelve.”

“What?” Vivi looks to Connie for help. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“They’re not valuable, if that’s what you’re thinking. And I almost never get to use them. It would make me so happy if someone did. Besides, it’s my way of thanking you for your help today.”

Kyung glances at Mae. “Help with what?”

Gillian clears her throat. “Vivi helped your mom with that inventory she’s been working on. They were at it all afternoon.” Something in her voice suggests that she doesn’t think much of her father’s new girlfriend, but no one else seems to notice. Her disapproval registers just below the surface, like a frequency only audible between husband and wife.

“I thought that list was just for the other house,” Kyung says.

“It’s important to have a record of things.” Mae leans toward Vivi again. “If there’s something else you saw today that you liked more, please—”

“The shells are perfect, really. Thank you so much.” She turns hers over, squinting to read the underside. “Lime … Lime-oh-jess? Huh.”

Kyung frowns at the badly mangled French. It’s Limoges, and it’s expensive — hardly the insignificant little trinket that Mae made it out to be. He sits back and examines Vivi, wondering if Gillian’s assessment of her is the same as his own. She’s a gold digger of some sort, accustomed to being taken care of, which would explain the perfect hair and tan and body. The nails and jewelry too. Connie isn’t a wealthy man, but he earns a good salary and has a house, a car, and a pension. Maybe that makes him wealthy to her.

“Kyung.” Connie snaps his fingers. “Earth to Kyung.”

He realizes he’s been staring at Vivi again because she turns away, flustered, straining to hear the conversation at the other end of the table.

“It has bug eyes,” Ethan whines, cocking his head at the lobster on his plate.

“Here.” Gillian picks up a silver cracker. “Let me get you some of the meat from the claw. That’s the best part.”

“You mean the hand?”

“It’s not a hand, honey. It’s a claw.”

“But I don’t want any.”

“Just try it. Your grandma worked hard to make this for you.”

“No.”

Kyung dislikes how everything has come to a standstill because of the boy. He never would have dared to act out in public as a child. “Don’t talk back to your mother,” he says. “Just eat your dinner like she asked.”

Ethan looks at Jin, who doesn’t respond, but something about this exchange bothers Kyung. What was his son hoping for when he turned his head? For his grandfather to overrule him?

“Eat your dinner,” Kyung repeats.

“But I don’t want any.”

“Eat — your — dinner.” The words come out slowly, but there’s no mistaking his menace as he brings his hand down on the table, causing everything — the china, the crystal, the silverware — to rattle. Gillian, Connie, and Jin are all quick to interject: “Take it easy.” “What are you doing?” “Stop.” The voice he hears last and loudest is his father’s, and this, he won’t abide.

“ You don’t have the right to tell me to stop. You, of all people. Where do you think I learned this from?”

Vivi coughs into her napkin. “My goodness,” she says to no one in particular. “I’ve never tasted lobster this fresh before. I guess all those others I ate were frozen.”

Mae glares at Kyung as perfect circles of pink bloom on her cheeks. Then she turns back to her guests. “We get them right off the boat at the dock. I like how easy they are to prepare.… Would you like some more butter?”