Bomi ate two spoonfuls of her evening porridge and clamped her mouth shut. A piece of carrot was stuck to the pocket of her bib. When I brought the spoon closer, she turned her head away first.
“Just one last bite.”
Instead of listening to me, Bomi grabbed the spoon. She tapped the handle twice against the table and let go. The spoon hit the leg of the chair and fell to the floor.
Jiho bent down. Under the table, a pressed-down grain of rice and the lid of a wet-wipe container had fallen side by side. He picked up the spoon and wiped Bomi’s hands first.
The phone at the end of the table buzzed briefly. It was Moon Haejin. Minjeong and Doyoon said they would meet in person today, and she asked whether I could also take the overnight shift afterward.
Before writing back, I looked at Jiho. He had to leave early tomorrow morning. I had agreed to come home and handle Bomi’s first waking, but I hadn’t agreed to take the rest of the night too.
Minjeong had said she wanted to get one last deep night’s sleep before returning to work. Using that as a reason, my first thought was that I wanted to hand the entire night over to Jiho.
Bomi swept her empty hand across the tray. The porridge spread out in a long smear beneath her palm.
“I’ll only go through this meeting.”
Jiho looked up at me as he picked the grains of rice off the floor.
“What about the shift afterward?”
“I’m not taking it. I won’t take on anything we haven’t discussed together.”
Jiho was silent for a moment. When Bomi pushed the tray, he blocked its edge with one hand.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t see this through.”
“I know.”
“Let’s decide on the next night when we’re both able to make it through the following day. We’ll see whether you can sleep during the day, too.”
I replied to Moon Haejin that I could sit in only through this meeting and couldn’t take the follow-up overnight shift. After I sent it, Bomi reached out. I offered her my empty hand. She grabbed my finger and leaned forward.
Jiho went to the sink to wash the spoon. Minjeong’s words came back to me through the sound of running water.
I just want to sleep one more time.
When I opened the door to the Night Sleep Exchange consultation room, the work bag was the first thing I saw. The strap of an employee ID card was sticking halfway out of the black bag’s side pocket. On top of it lay a spare outfit for Uju from daycare and a crumpled bib.
Minjeong was sitting at the end of the couch, attaching a name tag inside a T-shirt. A white strip with only “Kim U” pressed down was hanging from her thumb. The last letter was still on the protective film.
Doyoon was standing with Uju in his arms. The child was asleep with his face buried in Doyoon’s shoulder. Every time Doyoon tried to sit in a chair, Uju opened his eyes, so he eventually leaned his back against the wall.
Moon Haejin set out water without asking any questions. She placed a glass in front of Minjeong and a small cup with a straw on a shelf within Doyoon’s reach. When she noticed that one of Uju’s socks had come off, she covered only his foot with the edge of a blanket.
I sat across from Minjeong and Doyoon. Instead of taking the chair beside me, Moon Haejin chose a worn one a little farther away.
Doyoon took out a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded only the side I had seen last night and placed it in the middle of the table.
The morning of a trip taken alone before giving birth.
That was what was written in the selection field on the copy of the contract. What had disappeared from Minjeong was the voice and warmth attached to her mother’s lullaby. They weren’t the same thing.
Moon Haejin didn’t look at that one line for long.
“I agree that the written contents don’t match the loss you experienced.”
Doyoon asked, “Then is this a faulty contract?”
“I can’t confirm right now whether this copy is exactly as it was written at the time.”
“And you don’t know who took the memory that wasn’t in the contract, either?”
“Yes. For now, I have to say that we don’t know.”
The end of the name tag fell away from Minjeong’s thumb. She didn’t reattach it. She only folded the protective film with her fingernail.
“What about tonight’s request?”
Moon Haejin looked at Minjeong.
“We can put any additional use on hold. However, even if we do that, I can’t promise to return the memories that have already disappeared.”
Minjeong nodded with her lips pressed together. Moon Haejin said nothing more. The paper remained in the middle of the table, but no one unfolded it again.
Uju shifted on Doyoon’s shoulder. Supporting the back of the child’s head, Doyoon slowly walked around the consultation room. Three steps took him to the white-noise machine, and if he turned there, he was back at the couch.
I asked Minjeong, “If you don’t use it again tonight, what are you most worried about?”
Minjeong glanced down at her work bag.
“Tomorrow is my first day back at work.”
She held the name tag against the inside of the spare outfit’s collar. It was crooked, so she peeled it off again.
“It’s not that I want to sleep comfortably. I have to drop Uju off at daycare in the morning and go to work. I’m scared I’ll trip while carrying him down the stairs. I’m scared I’ll sit there spaced out on my first day back and mess everything up.”
Doyoon’s steps slowed. When Uju let out a brief whine, he shifted the child upright in his arms.
“Once is enough. I just want to sleep tonight and make it safely through tomorrow.”
I asked Doyoon, “What are you most worried about if you use it again?”
He didn’t rub Uju’s back. He only kept his palm resting there.
“I’d be glad if Minjeong could sleep. I know she needs to. I know she has to sleep.”
Doyoon stopped in front of the couch.
“But we don’t know what will disappear next. This time it was my mother-in-law’s voice. Next time, it could be something about Uju. I can’t keep asking someone who just woke up what else she’s lost.”
Minjeong said quietly, “Then how are we supposed to manage without sleeping?”
“I’ll watch him tonight.”
“You dozed off on the couch with Uju in your arms yesterday, too.”
“I’ll tell work I’m going to be late. I’ll take him to daycare, too. I’ll be the first one to get up when he wakes at night.”
“And what happens after you collapse?”
Doyoon couldn’t answer right away. Uju lifted his head. He looked at his father’s chin with sleepy eyes and raised a hand. Doyoon pressed his lips to the child’s hand.
Moon Haejin moved the bag and clothes on the couch to one side. There was room for Doyoon to sit, but he was still standing.
Doyoon folded the paper between the two of them. I asked, “You can think separately about waiting for the return and whether to use it tonight. How much can you do for each other tonight?”
“I’m not saying she should tough it out all night.”
Minjeong pressed down the last letter on the name tag. This time, it stuck to the fabric.
“And I’m not saying I want to take it easy alone while leaving Uju behind. I just want to sleep one more time.”
“I’m not telling you to give up sleep, either.”
Doyoon’s voice dropped.
“I’m saying I’ll take the night. Even if it’s hard, I’ll go through it with you. But I can’t agree to send you back when we don’t know what else you might lose.”
Uju opened his eyes all the way. Doyoon didn’t hand him to Minjeong. He knelt on one knee and took a cup of water from the spare-clothes bag. Uju drank two sips, then pushed the cup away.
Minjeong watched him, then asked me, “If you were me, Seoyoon, which would you choose?”
I was about to turn the same question back on her. Who could take the night? What could they cut back on tomorrow? Only words that refused to choose for either of them came to mind.
Minjeong laid the clothes with the name tag neatly across her knees.
“Don’t ask me questions. Do you want to tell us to stop, Seoyoon, or do you want to tell us to do it one more time?”
“Neither.”
That alone put me in too safe a place.
“I lost a memory that wasn’t written in the contract, too.”
Doyoon stopped walking. Moon Haejin didn’t look at me.
“Bomi’s first smile. It wasn’t in the contract, but it disappeared.”
Minjeong’s hand froze over the spare clothes.
“Did you get it back?”
“No. I haven’t found it yet.”
I didn’t say anything after that. I didn’t bring up telling them to stop, or my guess about where the lost memory might be.
Uju pressed his forehead against Doyoon’s chest. Still holding the child, Doyoon sat down in front of Minjeong. Minjeong took the employee ID strap from her work bag, tied it to the handle, and put Uju’s spare clothes beside it.
“I’ll take him in the morning,” Doyoon said.
“If I can’t wake up at dawn, wake me.”
Minjeong didn’t answer. After pressing the name tag once to make sure it hadn’t come loose, she zipped the bag shut.
Moon Haejin asked, “Should we put tonight’s use on hold?”
Minjeong looked at Doyoon and Uju in turn.
“Tonight, let’s get through it as people, not memories.”