Always the Guest

I was crouching on the balcony, looking for a change of clothes, when I heard the front door unlock.

Mom came in carrying some medicine and two boxes of apple pie.

When she saw me wearing nothing but a thin shirt, she frowned.

"You just got back from a business trip and you are already dressing like this? Have you forgotten how you coughed for two weeks last time?"

She shoved the bag of medicine into my arms, then crouched beside my suitcase and fiddled with one of its crooked wheels.

"You need a new suitcase, too. I will get you one after work tomorrow."

I said nothing.

The truth was, Mom had always been good to me.

When I stayed late at school to study for my senior year exams, she would wait outside the school gates for two hours in the middle of winter.

The first time I drove on the highway, my palms were so sweaty from nervousness that she rode in the passenger seat and stayed with me the whole way.

Last year, when I said I wanted to buy a small house, she was the one who supported me the most. She went with me to look at four or five places. In the end, she stood in a little 625-square-foot apartment and knocked on the window frame.

"This one will do."

I thought it was too small. She disagreed.

"A young man should settle down and build a life of his own.

"Without a house, which girl's family would be willing to let her marry you? No matter how small it is, at least it will be your own home."

Her words still echoed in my ears. However, my bedroom door was now locked from the inside.

Mom followed my gaze and looked a little uncomfortable.

"Michael and his family are only staying for four or five days. Yvonne will leave after she gets engaged.

"Our house is only so big. We cannot make our guests sleep in the living room."

Dad came out of the kitchen carrying a dish.

"Caleb comes home and crashes as soon as his head hits the pillow anyway.

"He is a guy. What does he care about? Just put some bedding on the couch. It is all the same."

Just then, Michael came out of the bedroom. He was wearing the pajamas I had bought just last year. Tugging at the hem, he said, "I didn't bring any pajamas. Your mom said yours were loose enough, so I figured I'd borrow them for a couple of days.

"You don't mind, do you?"

Before I could open my mouth, Mom answered with a smile.

"What would he mind? It is just a pair of pajamas."

Michael laughed too.

"You really know how to manage a household, sis. It’s no wonder we all love coming over to your place."

Mom's face softened with pleasure.

At dinner, she pushed a densely packed list toward me. It covered everything from champagne and wedding favors to new bedsheets and hotel reservations. Every last detail had been written down.

"Take half a day off tomorrow and go with your uncle to get everything."

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth.

"I've to pay the deposit on the house tomorrow."

"What time?"

"Before noon."

She glanced at the list. "That should be plenty of time.

"We will go to the mall at nine and finish by eleven. Then you can head straight to the real estate agent's office."

I looked up.

"Mom, I've a presentation tomorrow morning. I cannot take the day off."

Mom froze for a moment, but my uncle immediately waved his hand.

"Forget it, sis. We can go ourselves. We shouldn't interfere with Caleb's work."

Instead, Mom slapped the table lightly.

"You don't know your way around here. Why should you run all over town by yourselves?

"Caleb knows his way around, and he is careful about these things."

Then, she turned to me, her voice softening.

"Just help us this once.

"Yvonne's engagement is a big deal too."

I still said nothing.

Under the table, Dad nudged my leg.

"Caleb, your mom has already promised your uncle.

"How bad would it look if we changed our minds now?"

It was always the same.

Nobody ever asked whether I was willing. They made promises on my behalf first, then came back to inform me that they had already agreed to help someone. Surely I would not embarrass them by backing out now.

I pushed the list back toward Mom. "I can help until ten thirty tomorrow."

She smiled at once. "I knew you would.

"You complain about the trouble, but when it really matters, you are more reliable than anyone."

As she spoke, she pushed a bowl of chicken soup toward me.

"Drink some more."

The soup was hot.

When I picked up the bowl, the heat stung my fingertips.