A Map for the Missing(37)

“Look, I’m thinking about it,” he said wearily. Empty words. He appeared on the verge of sleep and his eyes remained closed as he laid his forehead against the cold tile. Frustrated, she rose from the floor. Nothing would come from continuing to press him. She left the bathroom light on, so that he would immediately know where he was when he woke up alone.

Instead of getting into her own bed, she went to Yuanyuan’s bedroom. She’d done this often in the past month, ever since the visit from Mr. Qian. She knew it was strange, that she went to her own child for comfort. Yuanyuan never woke; rather, she liked sleeping by him for the reminder that he represented, of something that she’d created and raised through her own effort.

When she lifted the blanket and hunched her shoulders to fit in the small space next to him, he stirred but didn’t wake. He looked so concentrated in his sleep, and she wondered what he might be dreaming of with that slight furrow in his brow.

She was brushing his hair when she noticed a shuffling shadow in the doorway.

“Who’s there?”

A face pushed through the crack of the door. She squinted. It was her mother.

“You scared me, Ma.” For a sudden and absurd moment, she’d believed that the men had already come and found her after her improper behavior at dinner.

“I didn’t mean to. I just thought I heard something earlier.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Go back to sleep.”

Her mother’s face floated, hazy like a reflection in the darkness. She hesitated and seemed about to leave. “It’s not good to keep coming in here to sleep, you know. You should stay with your husband.”

“He had too much to drink tonight. It was hard to sleep next to him.”

“Is something wrong? Guifan never drinks like that.” Now her mother pushed the door open and entered the room. Hanwen had no choice but to flatten herself to make room for her mother to perch on the edge of the bed. “This doesn’t have to do with your friend who came to visit you today, does it?”

“No, Ma, that was just a coincidence—” Hanwen began, but her mother cut her off.

“You know you can’t just look at others when there’s the smallest difficulty in a marriage.”

“Okay.” Hanwen rolled over so that her face was pressed right into Yuanyuan’s neck. “I’m tired.” She didn’t want to be lectured, but her mother was already taking off in a stern cadence.

“You know, when I was young and just married to your father, if we ever had a disagreement, I would get so angry. I would imagine the easiest thing—going back to my life without him. It’s normal to think like that, when you’re young.”

“That’s not what this is about, Ma.” Hanwen sat up. She resented the implication that she was still a child who needed her mother’s guidance to stay on the proper route of her life. Hadn’t she already so precisely arrived at exactly what was desired of her?

“Well, then tell me what it’s about.” Her mother suddenly grasped her hand. “I can help. Let your ma help.”

Hanwen wanted to believe that her mother—or someone else, anyone else—could help. “Guifan—” Hanwen started, but then she saw her mother’s eyes, glowing white and opened wide. There wasn’t anything for her there, only more worry. “Never mind. I really need to go to bed, Ma. It’s been a long night.” She lay back down.

“Okay, okay,” her mother said. Her expression was crestfallen. She rose slowly. “Just think about what I said.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “And if your husband is in trouble, you should help him however you can.”

Hanwen startled. Uttered in the dark by her mother’s shadow, the words seemed particularly weighted.

“What are you saying, Ma?” Hanwen wondered how many other times her mother had hovered around the doorways at night.

“That’s all I meant. Good night,” her mother said.

The bed felt vast after the departure of her mother’s weight, but Hanwen stayed pressed against Yuanyuan. She felt around Yuanyuan’s chest until she found the low heartbeat. She’d only felt panicked like this a few times since her marriage, and all of them had to do with Yuanyuan. The first time they’d gone to the morning market together, she’d turned for a second to pick a bag of string beans, and when she looked back, Yuanyuan was gone. She’d run through the narrow alleys and asked frantically at each stand, finally finding him squatting by a pancake maker, watching, mesmerized, as the merchant used a spatula to wrangle the batter into crisp rounds. Sometimes she still had nightmares about that singular moment, of turning around from the vegetable stand, murmuring to Yuanyuan, the sudden drop of her stomach when she found the space empty. It was that same sense of fear that Mr. Qian and now her mother had evoked, this plunging terror at the potential of loss.



* * *



—

    She woke late the next morning, sunlight already streaming in the room, falling on her in slats from the window and warming her. Yuanyuan was gone, but she’d kept her body nestled into a small corner of the wall. Ayi must have already quietly taken him to school without her, and her mother was likely out on her morning walk. She went to the bathroom to check on Guifan, but the floor was bare.

She dialed his office and was surprised when he answered with a voice brisk and businesslike, holding no trace of the previous night. She imagined him waking sometime before dawn, shaking off the dregs of the alcohol like a dog shook off water, slipping into his ironed clothes, and stepping back into the world as the polished man she knew.