JENNIE

..

..

Lisa will forever put my nerves on high alert.

First: I have an innocent crush on her. It's her fault for being the perfect wife.

Second: I have an innocent crush on her. It's her fault for looking sexy all the time.

Third: I have an innocent crush on her. It's Chaeng's fault for telling me about their sex life. Since she's dying, she gets a pass, and I'm forced to now blame that on Lisa too.

All crushing aside, I don't know how to read Lisa. I don't know how to read her or men at all. If I psychoanalyzed myself, everything would boil down to daddy issues.

Acting as confident as I can (which isn't much since she knows my secret and the disgusting odor from that secret is wafting out of the back of my car), I take a deep breath and blow it out my nose. "I've been a little lost. And since Chaeng befriended me, I've felt a little found. You hired me to clean your house, and I fear I don't do that as well as I should do it. I think you're happy that I can sometimes be with Chaeng when you're not here, but when you are here … I feel like an intruder because …"

Lisa cocks her head to the side. "Because?"

Nibbling at my lower lip, I shrug. "Because there's this intense intimacy between the two of you. The second you walk into the same room as Chaeng and me, I instantly feel like I've overstayed my welcome."

She frowns. "My wife is dying. That's not …" Lisa's head inches side to side.

"It's intimate. It's personal and private. I don't think I really know what that's like, but I do know that when you walk into the room and she looks at you … the earth turns a little slower on its axis. All these unspoken words seem to hang heavily in the air. I can barely breathe when I'm in the same room with the two of you."

Lisa blinks several times before her throat bobs with a hard swallow. "Maybe you're the oxygen in the room. Maybe it is a little hard to breathe around us. All I know is whatever you two discuss makes her smile, even on the days I know she's in pain. And that comforts me in ways I can't express. So don't ever feel like you're intruding."

Surrendering as my last ounce of pride evaporates, I shove a few things into a plastic bag and hand it to her. Then I retrieve Harry Pawter, his litter box, and the partial bag of litter—some of which has spilled onto the floor of my car. "It's not about the cancer." I head toward the house. "We rarely talk about the cancer. I think I make her feel normal. Normal makes her smile." I stop and wait for her to open the door because my hands are full. "I think her other friends reek of grief and pity. Even when they don't mention the cancer, I bet she can see it all over their faces."

She pushes down the door lever. "How do you look at her?"

Tightening my hold on a squirmy Harry Pawter, I shrug. "Probably in disbelief that she treats me as an equal. Not as hired help. Not as a young, stupid woman who hasn't had the same life experience."

Lisa maintains a blank expression like my answer needs some time to sink into her brain and make sense. Chaeng doesn't want anyone's pity for her cancer just like I don't want anyone's pity for my homelessness. I don't know … maybe she will understand. Maybe I should have told her my whole situation before now. I don't know what it's like to have someone trustworthy in my life, so my default mode is to distrust everyone.

I clear my throat. "I'm going to fill his litter box and jump in the shower. Then I'll tell Chaeng. I'll tell her. And if she doesn't suggest I stay here, you don't say one word. Okay?"

Lisa relinquishes a tiny nod before pushing the door open.

..

After a long and much-needed shower, I dry my hair and slip on a sundress. Turning the corner to make my way to the kitchen, a pile of things inside the guest bedroom catches my attention.

It's my stuff. Everything from my car is neatly piled at the end of the bed.

Lisa told her. I'm going to kill her.

She did exactly what I asked her not to do. I head down the hallway, hoping I find her before seeing Chaeng, but I spot her outside. Opening the door and softly closing it behind me, I stomp my bare feet to the driveway where she's using a Shop-Vac to clean out the inside of my car.

"What are you doing? And why did you tell her? I asked you to let me tell her!" I flip the switch on the vacuum to shut it off.

Lisa tosses a glance over her shoulder, confusion on her face until she sees me. "Why did you shut it off?" She backs out from the rear of my car.

"Why did you tell her?"

"I didn't. She's sleeping."

"Then why did you haul all my stuff inside? And why are you cleaning out my car?"

"Christ …" She tosses the hose aside and sits on the bumper, scrubbing her hands over her face. "Because I know my wife. And instead of waiting for her to wake up and tell me to do exactly what I'm doing right now, I figured I'd get a jump start on it," she mumbles behind her hands before dropping them to her side. "What are you afraid of? Someone helping you? Have you not heard the proverb 'Pride goeth before a fall?'"

After a few seconds of silence between us, I slowly shake my head. "This is so…" I whisper "…humiliating."

"Hey, look at me."

I force my gaze upward.

"Having epilepsy is not your fault. The shitty healthcare system—or lack thereof—in this country is not your fault. Okay?"

I know it's not my fault, but it's still my problem. And things that feel like problems start to feel like mistakes and faults.

"Go let Alice know you'll stay inside and wait for Chaeng to wake up. She's in the laundry room mending a button on Chaeng's pants."

I nod while slowly turning, feeling unavoidably weak. Taking two steps, I glance over my shoulder just as she reaches for the switch to turn on the Shop-Vac. "Lisa?"

She lifts her head. "Yeah?"

"You're a good person."

After a few beats, she gives me a tiny smile.

So handsome.

So unexpectedly kind.

So … broken.

If one's soul can leave its body before death, I'm certain Lisa's soul is slowly slipping away, chasing Chaeng's fading existence in this world. I can't imagine what that kind of love would feel like.

..

Alice finishes her sewing project and leaves just as Lisa fills a bucket with soapy water to wash my car. Round two of embarrassment.

I curl up on the paisley blue and white chair in the corner of the bedroom and watch Chaeng sleep. She's so peaceful. What visions fill her dreams? Does she dream of things in this life? A past life? Maybe she dreams of leaving her sick, frail body and reuniting with her previous love.

"Are you going to watch me sleep all day?"

I grin as Chaeng's eyes flutter open. "Only if you're going to sleep all day."

She eases onto her side, facing me. "Why the sad face, Jen?" Her voice is different. Not as strong. It's a reminder that she's dying.

And here I am, adding something to her life that she doesn't need. Tears burn my eyes, but I will them away while I pull in a slow, deep breath. "Lisa caught me at the park."

Chaeng's eyes narrow, making the carved lines around them deepen even more than her lack of proper nutrition has already done. "Caught you? Were you falling?"

On a tiny grunt, my head inches side to side several times. "She caught me napping in my car."

Chaeng blinks a few times. "Okay …"

Averting my gaze to the side, I blow out a shaky breath before returning my attention to her. "My epilepsy has landed me in the hospital several times. No insurance. And … I had to choose between rent and medication. And student loan debt is on top of that as well. So I've been temporarily living out of my car. But before you decide how to react to this, just know it's not the first time I've lived out of my car. And the fact is I have a car and a job. So I'm not as homeless or … desperate as it might seem. I'm actually quite fine. This is temporary. Nothing lasts forever. Right? I mean …" My nerves have hijacked my thoughts and sent jumbled words spilling from my lips. "It doesn't make me less courageous. If anything, it's made me more courageous and resilient. So …" I bite my lips together to stop the incessant rambling.

Something changes in Chaeng's expression. I can't decipher it. Easing to sitting, with her back against the padded headboard, she folds her bony, wrinkled hands on her lap. "Okay."

I wait for more.

She doesn't say more.

One word. That's it.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Did Lisa offer you one of our guest rooms?"

I nod slowly. "She … well … she thought you'd insist I stay, but I'm fine. I don't need to—"

With another wistful smile, she nods once. "Then you'll stay as long as you need to stay."

"That's just it. I don't need to stay."

She shrugs, her body slumped, her smile weak. "Then don't. But make the decision that's best for you and Harry. Don't let your ego make the decision. Don't let pride rob you of the chance to have a bed, a shower, air-conditioning, and more time with your feeble friend before she dies. I would've been too proud. Don't be me. Be better. Live better. Embrace humility because it will make you stronger than the most stubborn pride."

"Chaeng …" Now the emotions come. I won't cry for me, but I'm not strong enough to hide my feelings about the inevitability of losing her. In one blink, a half dozen tears escape all at once, and I brush them away just as quickly.

"It's fate."

I shake my head. There's no fate in cancer. No fate in dying young. It's tragic. She doesn't want to hear that from me because I'm her escape until it's physically impossible for her to escape the end. If mind over matter gives her a few more breaths, maybe several extra days or weeks toward the end, then swallowing—choking—on my real emotions and suffering this chronic heartache is worth it.

"Fate's a courageous word." I sniffle and wipe my eyes one more time while making my way to the bed and crawling up next to her.

She takes my hand, interlacing our fingers and resting her other hand over them. "Lisa is going to struggle with this."

This. She's referring to her death.

This or that. No big deal. It's just a life. We probably have many lives. No need to pretend that anything is truly the end of the world.

Internally, I laugh at my thought process. Chaeng has imparted her way of thinking upon me. It will come in handy in the coming weeks and months—probably for the rest of my life. We are bonded by optimism, and I don't believe this life is the end of our friendship because it never felt like the beginning. Our souls have met before.

"Many people will struggle with this." I chuckle to ward off any more watery emotions.

"Maybe. But Lisa will try to fade into a dismal level of nothingness. I just feel it. So I need you not to let that happen."

Another painful laugh. "And how will I do that?"

"I don't know. You'll figure it out. You're smart."

"You did catch the part where my intelligence didn't manage to keep me from living out of my car, right?"

"Just tell me you'll stay here until life takes you in a new and exciting direction. Promise me you'll stay until you find something truly better."

"That's a lot of pressure. What if I don't find anything better?"

"Then Lisa will never be lonely, and that's a perfectly acceptable outcome as well."

I stiffen.

"Don't." She rests her head on my shoulder while giving my hand a little squeeze. "I see the way you look at her, and the way she looks at you."

"Chaeng …" My head shakes and my voice does too. "I don't—"

"You do. You look at her like I looked at her even when I was with Tara. It wasn't love, of course. It was joy—an honor to be friends with such a kind person. Sometimes we start to fall in love with people before our hearts recognize what's happening."

I'm not in love with Lisa. My heart is too fond of Chaeng, my friend, the sister I never had. Chaeng has hit the point where her mind isn't working right.

"Well … I … I can tell you Lisa doesn't look at me like anything more than the woman who should be cleaning her house instead of watching reality TV with her wife."

"She doesn't see it now. And for the record, she adores you. I think she sees a younger version of me in you. Your spirit. Your kindness."

"Chaeng …" I'm not sure I've ever felt this uncomfortable. This is a terrible conversation.

"Shh …" She lifts her head from my shoulder. "I'm not saying anything will come from it. I'm just saying it's okay if something does happen."

Nothing will happen.

Lisa will always be Chaeng's wife to me. Friends don't fall in love with friends' wifes. I'm fairly certain that's written in stone somewhere.

"Now …" She releases my hand and presses hers together at her chest like something exciting is about to happen. "Aside from my new best friend moving in with me, tell me something that will … I don't know … make me laugh."

I've got nothing.

Except …

I have a slightly morbid sense of humor, of which I'm certain is a direct result of her bad influence on me.

"Please don't tell your wife that you want the maid to fall in love with her after you're buried six feet under."

Chaeng's jaw drops and her eyes widen as her hand flies to her mouth. A second later, she snorts a laugh that breaks completely free in the next breath.

I giggle.

Then we fall inward, collapsing into each other in a fit of laughter like two young girls talking about a mutual crush in school.

"I won't." She laughs. "It will be our little secret."

"What's your little secret?"

We jump, swallowing our last giggles and holding our breaths as Lisa steps into the bedroom.

"If we tell you, it won't be a secret," Chaeng says.

I climb off the bed without making eye contact with Lisa because I can't. Not yet. Not when Chaeng thinks I look at Lisa a certain way.

"I'm …" I nod toward the door and squeeze past Lisa. "I'm going to give you some privacy. Thanks for … everything. Really."

"It's our pleasure," Chaeng says.

I'm not sure taking in a homeless person is a pleasure, but it's kind of her—of them—to be so generous.

..

After organizing my things in the spare bedroom, I sneak out to the kitchen, not expecting to find Lisa at the stove cooking something in a big pot.

"Hey."

She turns and smiles. "Hey. I'm making pasta for Rosé. She thinks plain pasta sounds good. Do you like pasta?"

"Oh …" I shake my head. "You don't need to cook for me. Really, the room is enough. I might pick up a few groceries, but nothing that will take up much space in the fridge. I promise."

"So … is that a yes or no to liking pasta? If she eats more than three bites, I'll be shocked. That leaves a pound of pasta minus three bites and a full jar of sauce. I work for the next three days which means it will get tossed into the trash. So … yes or no to liking pasta?"

"Who doesn't like pasta?"

Lisa grins. "Grab the jar of sauce from the pantry."

And that's it … that's all it takes for me to fit into their life.

..

..

..