It is raining outside when Minhyuk arrives at his front door. He brushes off the droplets on his jacket and hair, and when he’s digging his pocket for the keys, he notices a woman standing in front of the door next to his. He unlocks his own door before glancing at her again. She is not that old, but she can’t be any younger than 50. Seeing her bare neck and how she shivers every now and then, Minhyuk clears his throat to catch her attention. It succeeds.

“Are you waiting for Joohee?” he asks after bowing.

The woman seems slightly surprised. “Do you know Joohee?”

He nods, feeling glad that he didn’t rush through the pages of his scrapbook this morning. “I’m not sure when will she come back, but it’s cold out here. Do you want to come in first and have some tea while you wait?”

She considers his offer for a moment, at the same time rubbing her arms to keep warm. “I think that sounds lovely,” she answers at last.

Minhyuk holds the door open for her, and with a polite smile on both of their faces, she enters his apartment before he does and closes the door behind him. He lets her use the extra pair of slippers he found at the entrance this morning that he doesn’t remember buying and shows her inside. “I have a bad memory,” he explains when he notices her eyes looking at the sticky notes filling up his walls.

“Seems like you really got it bad,” she teased back, and he only smiles.

“Please sit and make yourself comfortable,” he tells her as he slips off his jacket and hangs it on one of the chairs before making his way to the kitchen. He rummages through the cabinets to look for the kettle, creating noises along the way, and once he found it and filled the water in, he goes through the whole process again, this time to look for the tea bags and mugs.

“Do you need help?” the woman asks upon hearing the clatters.

“No no, it’s alright. I’m just forgetful so I don’t remember where I place things.”

She smiles in response and redirects her gaze outside, watching the rain and staring at the sky while waiting for time to pass.

He returns with the tea several minutes later and carefully sits next to her, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else to serve.”

“This is more than enough,” she shakes her head. “Are the two of you close? With Joohee, I mean.”

He hesitates to answer. Looking away at the notes around him, he tries to recall anything from his scrapbook or the notes that might give him a hint. He remembers her polaroid, which unlike everyone else’s, is taken by herself. He knows because he can see himself in the background, and it seems to be taken here in his house. He supposes that they are close, considering the way she greets him this morning when they both were leaving. Returning his attention, he nods. “I guess you can say that.”

“That’s a relief. At least there’s someone nearby to watch over her. I was worried that she’s all alone.”

“Um, is she your daughter?”

She smiles a full smile this time, the one that reaches her eyes and reveals her crow’s feet. “Do we look alike?”

“I think you have the same smile,” he replies, recalling the smile captured in the polaroid.

“Most people say she resembles her dad more, but I’m still her mother, you know.”

He chuckles in understanding. He listens to her speaking of Joohee, telling him stories about her from her childhood and adolescence while holding the tea cup in his hands. The cup is warm, and so are her tales. He remembers his own mother as he listens and thinks his heart is just as warm as well.

It is not until six in the evening when they hear footsteps outside, followed by the sound of keys jangling. They both rise from the seat and Minhyuk hurries to the door to catch Joohee before she enters her house.

“Joohee?”

She glances at his direction and a grin immediately appears on her face. “Minhyuk?”

“You have a guest,” he says. He steps aside to let Mrs Song come in view.

Joohee’s grin falters a bit upon seeing her mother, but she instantly musters up another smile. “Mum? What are you doing here―I mean there, I mean―”

“This kind gentleman here let me stay in his place while waiting for you.”

Minhyuk blushes a little and shakes his head. “It was nothing, really.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, um, I’m sorry I never asked your name.”

“My name is Lee Minhyuk.”

Joohee stares at the two of them questioningly, looking lost and confused. He gazes over at her. Noticing her puzzled face, he flashes another smile and bows at her mother before telling her to invite her mother quickly to avoid the cold. He watches them disappearing behind the door of Joohee’s home before retreating back to his own.

--

He hears someone knocking on his door when he is getting ready to leave for his job at the bar. He rushes to open it, and finds Joohee standing outside with her trademark grin plastered across her face. “Yo!”

Minhyuk peeks outside and looks around. “Where is your mum?”

“She went home,” she answers. “By the way, thanks for letting her stay in your place just now. She said she enjoyed your company and here,” she hands him a medium sized container. “She told me to give you some of this as a token of gratitude.”

“What is this?” He raises his brows.

“Kimchi. Take it. My mum makes the best kimchi in the world. With this I can pester you to make―” she stops midsentence when she sees the look on his face, remembering the new entry to his notebook they added together that night after they got home. “Anyway, she wants you to have some.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

 “So are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“For Eunkwang’s bar, of course!”

--

“When did you start hiring her?”

Eunkwang shrugs. “I never did.”

“But she said she comes here with me every night?”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean I hired her.”

“But―” he trails off, redirecting his attention at Joohee who is serving drinks with a bright grin. “Just look at her. She’s going to steal all my tips.”

Eunkwang chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I can’t help you with that, man.”

--

“Thanks again about my mother,” she restates during their walk home.

Minhyuk shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

There is a pause after he says that, and Joohee glances at him. “You didn’t ask about her. Why she came, why I looked surprised and such.”

“Should I ask?”

“Normally people would.”

“I just thought you’d tell me yourself if you feel like it.”

She lets out a chuckle. “How come you know me so well with that memory of yours?”

He considers her question as he stares ahead at the road in front of them. It is empty except for several couples or small groups of youngsters that pass by every now and then. At times cars drive past them, lighting up the dark road for a fleeting moment. “I guess maybe the heart remembers things that the brain doesn’t?”

“Could be,” she nods slightly.

They let a silence falls between them for a moment while they both get lost in their own thoughts. Finally Joohee breaks the silence. “I ran away from home, you know.” Minhyuk looks at her but doesn’t reply, so she continues. “My dad wanted―wants me to take up computer programming, of all things. He said it’ll be good for me and my future, you know how it goes. I didn’t want to, but he made me study that. After a year or so, I reached my limits and I couldn’t go any further, so I switched course secretly. He found out later and blew up, and we had an argument. Then I packed my bags and left home.”

“Then you moved next door and became my neighbour.”

“Then I moved next door and became your neighbour,” she repeats, smiling a bit. “The worst thing about this whole argument between us is my mother. She gets squashed in between us. It’s not that she can’t choose sides, can she? I keep in touch with her because I feel bad. She sends me things like side dishes and kimchis from time to time, but today was the first time she comes to visit in person.”

He isn’t sure what to say, and he isn’t sure if he should say anything at all. He thinks sometimes words can’t really heal a person, no matter how comforting it sounds. He takes off his gloves and gives them to her. “You shouldn’t walk around with bare hands in weathers like this.”

She stares at him, and is grateful that it is dark at the moment so the darkness hides her stunned face. She takes the gloves and puts them on carefully. “I have a lot to thank you today.”

“You don’t have to,” he returns, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I forget all of them by tomorrow anyway.”

The gloves feel warm, just like her heart is at the moment, and she likes the warmness, so she takes one of them off and hands it back to him. “Let’s share.”

He looks surprised at first, but then his lips curve into a smile and he takes it before putting it on.

She loves the warmness even more now.