Linda Nguyen

Saturday morning, the sixth day of the cooling-off period, the apartment doorbell rings. Standing at the door is your mother-in-law, Linda Nguyen, holding three containers of side dishes wrapped in a cloth bundle. You did get a short text the night before saying she'd bring some food over, but this is the first time in four years of marriage that she's come by on her own. Your husband left early for the office, and on the dining table the lease for your new studio still lies open where you spread it out. As she takes off her shoes, Linda glances at the contract once but asks nothing. Instead she goes straight to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and stares into its empty shelves for a long while. She unties the cloth and begins lining up the containers inside. After putting in the last one and closing the fridge door, she pulls out a dining chair and sits.