Mom doesn’t call.
“Oh, hey, Lucy!” a voice comes from behind me, and I see my film neighbor coming out of the elevator with her arms full of groceries. “It’s been a while.”
I hurry to help her with the bags. “You’re home?” I try not to sound accusatory she’s back in her own place.
“Finally. It’s good to be back.” She smiles at me. She’s changed her hair, and it’s in loose fire-red curls around her head.
“Weirdly, I knew the guy you rented to,” I say as she drops her bags at her door, trying to move the conversation around to Rafe to find out what’s going on.
“No way. Small world, huh? Luckily, the timing worked out for both of us. He had to leave suddenly, and my shoot ended early, so I was scrambling to find somewhere to stay.”
“Well, good to have you back.” My apartment has felt lonelier than ever, so I hesitate and then take the plunge. “Would you like to come over for drinks or coffee once you’ve settled in?”
“Love to,” she says promptly. “How about Thursday?”
That was it. That’s all it took to make a connection. I grab her number so we can text about details and head back home. With a long night looming, I realize I should have asked her to come back with me now. I look over to the drawer where I put the register after Mom left, but I can’t bring myself to read it without feeling guilty,like I’ve let down not only my mother but also generations of women before us.
More days pass. It’s warm and I check our new potager garden every morning and evening to see if it’s thriving and to pull out the cigarette butts and weeds that accumulate. Commissions come and I do them without interest. If Maryska thought my work was soulless before, she’d consider these beyond redemption. Ana sends me worried looks but seems satisfied when I tell her the apartment feels empty with Mom gone.
“I’ve got something to show you,” Ana says when I come in one day. She whips away the silk scarf from her table with a ta-da motion, and I notice it’s one of the ones I gave her from Waipo.
I suck in my breath at what she’s created. Ana’s jewelry is all one of a kind, to make the pieces more covetable, and seeing them lined up on the velvet board makes me realize again how talented she is.
She points to a peony, a lovely pendant hanging off a plain chain. “This is the design your mom suggested.”
I lift it up and an unfamiliar scent drifts out. “That’s not one of mine,” I say.
“No, sorry, your mom did that too.” She looks contrite. “Did I do bad? She was excited about it and I didn’t have the heart to say no.”
It’s a light iris, balanced with the warmth of my favorite sandalwood and a touch of lemony vanilla. “I’m going to buy this one.”
Ana laughs. “You don’t need to buy it, silly. Take it. It’s our own collection.”
“We’ll make it our first sale.”
“When you put it like that, how can I say no?”
I take the pendant and put it in the branded box, black withPulse Pointsacross the front in gold font with a little red heart. Ana ordered them on a high of excitement the day we decided to work together, and each box is double layered, with space for the scent refill andinstructions under the jewelry. Ana watches me with a big smile. “We did it.”
“We did.” The satisfaction of the moment barely overcomes the edge of tears I had from smelling Mom’s scent, with both of us connected in a way I briefly tasted during her visit and would never happen again.
“Are you ready to let the world see them?”
I nod and try not to ruin this for Ana with my moping. “Let’s do it.”
Humming a ceremonious tune, she carries the board to the little marble table and sets up the display. We decided on a soft launch so we could make tweaks if we get comments from customers, and the only thing we’ll do is put them out and hand-sell them.
That’s the highlight of the day, because although a few people pause, we don’t make any sales. Ana is undaunted as she bends her head over her worktable to adjust the piece she’s working on. “Soft launch,” she reminds me. “Things that are worth it take time.”
I nod.
***
I’m alone at the shop, sitting at my counter and thinking about everything I need to do and not wanting to do any of it, when the door opens. I stand up with my usual smile, which immediately disappears when I see who walks in.
“Ms. Kang?”
She looks around, startled. “Hua Luling? My God, what a coincidence. Is this your store?”
