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By Root 1076 0

as I tucked the letter into my classroom notebook, incredulous at this invasion of privacy. He and Mrs. Cho ate speedily as usual, which meant that reading my mail would be routine. Then Reverend Cho met my eyes, smiled in that practiced ministerial way and said he’d forgotten to mention something about the house. One of the incoming seminarians, a rising star of a student, had a wife and an infant child. Since the dormitory was men-only, it had been promised that the new mother would live at the manse. “It’ll be a little crowded, but you’ve been managing the house well and I’m sure you’ll find a way to accommodate her and the baby. There’s really no other place for her. Originally, I thought she might be helpful to Mother, but that was before you came. He’s considered a prize for our seminary. His wife is yangban like you, and it’s likely you’ll become friends. Your mother-in-law is certainly experienced with babies, and it will bring her some joy to have an infant around.”

I studied my porridge, hiding anger and the sense of violation over my opened letter, and also the horrible prospect of one more—one and a half more—bodies living in this room. We would have to share a bed. I prayed that the woman was at least well groomed.

Midday when I came home from teaching, my thoughts lingered on the faint hopes Calvin’s letter had brought, and my resolve to try harder to make peace with the situation. I found my mother-in-law with an infant boy in her lap and the baby’s mother sitting nearby. Lim Yonghee looked puffy with postpregnancy and decidedly unhappy. We were introduced, and I said, “Welcome, Dongsaeng, Little Sister. I hope that Ssi-umma-nim has familiarized you with our humble home.”

“Humble indeed!” she said. “Unnee, Elder Sister, where do I put my son’s diapers to be washed? I can’t find room for my bed and Auntie said I should wait for you to fix me something to eat.” Yonghee’s perfectly shaped lips pouted and the faint vertical line between her eyes sank into a well-worn frown. When she saw my expression, she looked wounded. “Well, I would do it myself, but I’m still recuperating from the baby, you see, and such a long journey for my husband to come here. Naturally, I insisted we go to Pyeongyang because of the superior education he would receive, even though it would be a hardship on me, but I had no idea there’d be no other servants than—that there’d be no servants.”

Mrs. Cho said, “We live very simply, but you’ll see how helpful Daughter-in-law can be. It’s an honor for your husband to be here. Don’t wrinkle your pretty forehead, dear. You mustn’t sour your milk.”

I attempted friendliness and pointed to the linen closet. “That’s where your bedding goes, but come to the stove and I’ll show you how to heat water to wash diapers. I heard you were nursing, so I bought seaweed for soup. Why don’t you come and make soup?”

“I’m tired from travel, Unnee, and I need to rest. It’s only been a month since the baby, you see. Set out my bed and bring me the soup, won’t you? It sounds delicious.” Yonghee waved at a soiled diaper on the floor and displayed a sweet smile that rounded her cheeks beneath eyes glittering with ice. Aware that my next move would set a precedent, I refused to budge while my head spun to find a polite way to make this lazy girl take care of herself. I wished I were as practiced as she obviously was with the acerbic sarcasm of a spoiled brat.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Cho intervened. “Unnee will make a nice place for you to rest and I’ll watch the baby. Such a handsome boy! Come, Grandma will rock you and sing you a song.” I wanted to slap Yonghee’s smirk away; instead I efficiently unstrapped her bedroll and spread it on the floor, swept up the dirty diaper and primly went outside to make soup.

I washed diapers, gardened and prepared food while the two women fussed over the baby. When he slept, Yonghee lay beside him in bed, flipping through a cheap Japanese magazine. When my mother-in-law asked her to read the Bible aloud, Yonghee complied in a drone that I likened to a wasp ready to sting. At sundown