think we weren’t getting on at the time. But it is darling, Grace. Lin Su, you should consider it. At least look at it. Small but comfortable.”
Lin Su smiled and nodded. They thought she couldn’t live in a small space? That made her happy—they didn’t know how little it took to make her happy. “I have a very tight budget. Single mothers all do,” she said. “But I’d love to see it.”
“Maybe later?” Grace said.
“I would love to, but today I’m leaving right after Winnie is settled for the night. Charlie and I have a few things to pick up for school—just incidentals—and I want to get him home for a good night’s sleep. Maybe tomorrow? When I have a break?”
“Perfect!”
The girls and Winnie enjoyed themselves so much that Winnie’s nap was cut short. While she rested, Grace and Lin Su tried their hand at a meat loaf, mashed potatoes and asparagus dinner. The rolls came from Carrie’s deli; the asparagus was contributed by Mikhail, who purchased it at a farm stand; Troy peeled the potatoes and the meat loaf recipe came right off the internet, thanks to Charlie.
Soon after the table was cleared Grace sent Lin Su on her way. “I know you have a little shopping to finish on your way home. Let me get Winnie settled tonight. You and Charlie go on.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” she said. “We’re both excited for the first day of school. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Lin Su and Charlie drove to the nearest Target. She had already taken care of his clothes and shoes but still needed school supplies and a new jacket. She wasn’t sure if this was a happy coincidence or if Grace was doing a good deed. She was aware that Ginger had moved out and that Grace wouldn’t be living there any longer, but what she didn’t know for sure was whether Grace could use the space for her business and decided to sacrifice it because Lin Su was looking around. Also, although it was said to be very small, Lin Su was aware—Grace and her mother had very high quality possessions and excellent taste—it might be an expensive rental and out of her reach so she didn’t even mention it to Charlie.
But then they pulled up to the fifth wheel and Lin Su’s heart sank.
“Oh, my God!” Charlie cried. “Shit!”
Lin Su didn’t say anything about his language. For a moment she didn’t even know what to fear. The trailer had been broken into—the door stood open. Just six inches, but still. It was dark and ominous.
“Stay in the car,” she said.
“Don’t go in there,” Charlie said. “You never go in a building when you don’t know who’s in there.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1, reporting that the padlocked door had been pried open.
All Lin Su could do was look into what was her home. She didn’t recognize it. It was torn apart, things she didn’t even recognize strewn everywhere. Her mind raced—she didn’t have anything of real value, just the most necessary articles of daily living—linens, clothing, pots and pans, dishes... She’d always felt safe from burglars—there wasn’t much to steal. But there were pictures! She ran to what served as her bedroom, turning on lights along the way. She pulled out the drawer under the bed and it was still there—her album. She wasn’t just frugal with money, she was also frugal with space. She had kept some pictures from her childhood in Boston and there were the pictures of Charlie as a baby and toddler. And they were safe.
Then she spied the small closet, the door literally ripped off—and it was gone, her box of treasures. It was a wood and ivory box, not very big. It didn’t hold much and the street value would be nothing. Less than nothing. It held the hospital bracelets she and Charlie wore after his birth, his first tooth in a small envelope, two faux-gold coins, a chain and pendant given to her by one of her sisters. And the swatch—the lotus embroidery. The only thing she had of her biological mother.
She fell to her knees and started searching the floor of the closet, the backs of the shelves, under the bed. “No no no no no,” she whimpered. Why take that? It was worthless. Even the box itself couldn’t be worth twenty dollars! She crawled around the room, stretching her hands under shelves, into corners, even under the bedding. She reached into drawers that had been rifled through and, without realizing it, she was speaking Vietnamese. Rapidly. Breathlessly. Mournfully.
She cried. Then she began to hum softly as she searched.
* * *
Charlie stood in the bedroom doorway. “Send someone, please,” he said into the phone.
Then he disconnected and found another number, one recently put into her directory. He clicked on the button. The man answered, “Blake Smiley.”
“Yeah, it’s Charlie. Need a little help here, Blake. Our trailer—it got ripped up, torn apart, and things were taken. Things my mom really loves. I don’t know what to do.”
“Did you call the police?” Blake asked.
“Yeah, but... They’ll send someone when they can. They said we should file a report. It could be a long time since there’s no imminent danger—no robbers here. But I think we have a problem. My mom. She’s broken.”
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