Locking up her studio for the night, Moonbyul pockets the key and heads across the back yard to the house.  She comes in through the kitchen, finding it empty and silent this late in the evening.  Checking the clock, she feels a slight twinge of guilt when she sees it’s past eight.  Usually, despite the temptation of her equipment just a few steps away on the same property, she doesn’t allow herself to go back to work after dinner.  (Or rather, Yongsun doesn’t allow her to go back to work after dinner.)  But with so many deadlines looming this week she’s had to make some exceptions.

She crosses the back hallway and peeks into the family room.  Yongsun is nowhere in evidence, but their daughter, Violet, is sitting on the plush area rug in the middle of the room, clutching her favorite blanket, staring at the TV and absorbed in what looks like a car insurance commercial featuring a talking monkey.  

Moonbyul steps quietly through the doorway and sneaks up closer, then crouches down a few feet behind her, still unnoticed.  “Boo,” she says, but in a soft voice so as not to actually scare her.

Violet spins around, her face lighting up in surprise and an almost delirious joy.  “Mama!”  In one continuous motion she pulls herself up from the floor and throws herself at Moonbyul, with as much passion as if days have passed since they’ve seen each other, instead of just hours.

Moonbyul is knocked backwards off of her heels and onto her by the force of the impact.  “Oh my God,” she laughs.  

Violet hangs onto her through the stumble, her arms wrapped tightly around Moonbyul’s neck.  Moonbyul pulls her close, squeezing her tiny body hard against her as she shuts her eyes, inhaling her scent.  Her loose light red curls smell like baby shampoo and are still slightly damp from her bath, and she’s wearing soft cotton pajamas printed with moons and stars.

“Mmm, thank you,” Moonbyul mumbles with real gratitude into her daughter’s small, warm shoulder.  She takes a deep breath and lets it out, impressed as always by the sheer restorative power of a toddler’s hug.  “I needed that.”

Violet finally detaches herself and pulls back, examining her face.  With Moonbyul sitting on the floor, they’re about the same height.

“Did you finish?” Violet asks her solemnly.

“Finish what?”

“The layering.”

Moonbyul looks at her in amazement.  Vocal layering is exactly what she’s been doing for the past twelve hours, with brief breaks for meals.  But how could her not-quite-yet three year old daughter know that?  It’s true, yesterday she and Hwasa had been discussing their options for a particular track while Violet scribbled in a coloring book on the floor of the studio, but she’d been singing quietly to herself and seemingly not paying any attention.  

“We did finish.  Were you listening when we were talking about that yesterday?” Moonbyul asks her.

Violet nods.

“Wow.  I keep forgetting you’re, like, a little person now.”  It also makes her realize she’s going to have to start being more careful about the stuff that comes out of .  She knew this day would come eventually, but she’s not sure she’s ready for it.  “So,” she changes the subject.  “I hear we’re watching a movie tonight.”

“Yep,” Violet confirms with excitement.  “But only when Mommy comes down.  She’s putting on her…” She struggles to remember the exact words, squinting and twisting in a way that’s so precisely like Yongsun that it’s disorienting.  “Comfy clothes,” she adds with a little nod, pleased with herself.

“Ugh, we have to wait for her?”  Moonbyul makes a face.  “I say we just watch it without her.”

At this notion, Violet’s dark blue eyes widen in alarm.  Those eyes, along with her pale complexion, are her only notable physical legacies from Moonbyul–or technically from Moonbyul’s brother, which amounts to nearly the same thing, since they’re so similar in both looks and personality that they were often mistaken for twins as children, even though Yul is a year older.

“I don’t want to,” she pouts.

Moonbyul grins at her.  “I’m just kidding.  You gotta learn to read the room, kid.  So, what are we gonna watch?”

Fetching her chosen DVD from the nearby coffee table, Violet holds it up proudly.  “This one.”

“Ohhh,” Moonbyul groans.  “Big Bird again, huh?”  Violet’s choice, as usual, is an obnoxious Sesame Street movie from the eighties, in which Big Bird is removed from his home by a social worker played by a lady in a giant finch costume… or something.  Moonbyul’s never quite figured out the nonsense plot, despite the fact that she’s been forced to sit through it hundreds of times.  Or maybe not hundreds, but it feels that way.  Why can’t their child just watch Pixar like every other kid in America?

“It’s Aunt Wheein’s movie,” Violet points out earnestly, as if reading her thoughts.  “From when she was little.”

“That’s right, Aunt Wheein gave you that, didn’t she?  That was so generous of her.  She deserves a big thank-you for that,” Moonbyul says wryly.  “Like, maybe some thank-you waterboarding.”

“Yep.  Cuz it was so nice,” Violet agrees, not batting an eye at the waterboarding mention.  From Yongsun, she’s inherited a remarkable resistance to other people’s sarcasm.  This is a trait that comes in handy when dealing with Moonbyul.

“So nice,” Moonbyul echoes.  “But are you sure you don’t want to watch something else, just for a change?  Like, literally, anything else?” she pleads.

“Nope,” Violet says firmly.  “Big Bird.”

Moonbyul knows it’s hopeless, but there’s time to kill before Yongsun comes down, because somehow even changing into pajamas takes her forever, so she pulls her jacket off and kicks off her shoes, then crawls over and begins to shuffle through the DVDs in the storage bin that pulls out from the coffee table.  “Let’s see what else those freaks have left here over the years.  How about… a Monster Truck Rally?  Pretty sure that was Amber’s.  Want to watch big trucks crush things?” Moonbyul teases her, tickling her at the same time.  “Hmm?”  

“No,” Violet wriggles away, smiling.

“No?  Something more sophisticated?”  Moonbyul tries again.  “Dead Poets Society, maybe.”

“Mm-mm.”

“You are one tough customer.  Moulin Rouge?”

She shakes her head vigorously.

“Casablanca?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Violet says with strained patience.

“Yeah, me neither,” Moonbyul admits.  “Um… Great Performances: Collegiate Acapella Edition?”

“No!”

“Jeez, okay,” Moonbyul holds up her hands in defense.  “Actually, I’m with you on that one. How about… Silence of the Lambs?”

Violet seems intrigued by the mention of lambs.  She thinks about it, studying the DVD she’s still holding, weighing her loyalty to Big Bird.  But, finally, “No,” she decides.

“Thank God,” Moonbyul says.  “Did not have a backup plan for that one.”

Even though she can’t possibly understand this joke, Violet finds it funny anyway.  The two of them are still laughing when Moonbyul suddenly looks up and realizes Yongsun is standing in the doorway, watching them with a half-smile.  She has the strangest look on her face, soft and wistful but somehow faraway, like she’s trying to remember something.  Moonbyul gets the distinct impression she’s been standing there for a while.

“Hey, weirdo.  You spying on us?”

“Mommy, look!” Violet holds up the DVD to show her.

Coming out of her semi-trance, Yongsun snaps right into mom mode.  “Oh my gosh, are we watching Big Bird?” she gushes, as if this is the most exciting news she’s heard all day.  Moonbyul admires this skill, even if she still hasn’t mastered it herself.  “You want me to put it in?” Yongsun asks, coming further into the room and picking up the remote control.

But Violet protests this immediately; she wants to do it herself.  “No, me!”  She stretches her arms up for the remote.  “I’ll do it.”

“You want to do it?  Go for it,”  Yongsun gives her the remote and watches as she scampers across the room to the DVD player.  “Let me know if you need help.” 

“I could use some,” Moonbyul says, holding out her hands.  

“Hey, you.”  Yongsun smiles and helps pull her up from the floor, giving her a quick hello peck as she does.  “Did you get done?”

“Yeah, for the most part.  She’s still not totally happy with it, but what else is new.”

“She’ll love it when it’s all finished,” Yongsun assures her, a hand on Moonbyul’s lower back as they move over to the couch.  “She always does.”

They sit down, Yongsun still monitoring the progress with the movie.  So far, Violet seems to know what she’s doing, although she’s progressing slowly, handling the disc with a careful reverence.

“It would be such a shame if anything ever happened to that movie,” Moonbyul remarks casually.

“Don’t you dare,” Yongsun warns her, trying not to laugh.

“Hey.”  Moonbyul waits until Yongsun looks over at her.  “So, what was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“A minute ago, when you were standing there,” she looks toward the doorway.  “You had this look on your face, like…” she trails off.  “I don’t know, it was weird.  I mean, weirder than usual.”

Yongsun smiles.  But she doesn’t answer right away, and she seems to be considering what she wants to say.