by Saumya Dave
“How?!” Mom points to the rows of curtains. “Which one is she in? They won’t tell us anything! Since Dad’s only been seeing a few patients in the clinic, he doesn’t know the doctors working in the emergency room now. He’s talking to the charge nurse to ask where she is.”
“I know the doctors here and she’s in great hands.” Suhani points down the hallway. “She’s in a bed over there and doing okay. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll go check on her,” Zack says before he gives Mom a hug. “She’ll be fine. I promise.”
Suhani watches Zack leave and ignores the compulsion to run after him.
“But what’s going to happen to her?!” Mom’s eyes are wide with alarm. It’s as if she doesn’t know whether to scream or cry.
“Let’s step away from here.” Suhani motions for Mom and Anuj to follow her to the waiting area. Stiff puke-green chairs line the room. A triage nurse sits behind a tiny wooden desk. The wall behind her has a stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and crate full of alcohol swabs and Band-Aids.
Anuj squeezes Mom’s shoulder and says, “It’ll all be okay. She’ll be okay.”
Mom instantly relaxes. “Thank you, beta. I really needed to hear that.”
Suhani stops herself from saying that she just gave Mom a similar message seconds ago and it only riled her up more. She’s reminded of how, even during the same moment, all three of them get a different version of Mom. It’s been that way for their entire lives. Suhani got a hopeful, struggling mother, which fueled her ambition. Natasha got a strict and scared mother, which instigated her rebellion. Anuj got a softer, more secure mother, which gave him comfort.
“How could we have missed this?” Mom asks Suhani. Her maroon paisley-print kurta top, dusty-rose cardigan, and black leggings make her look out of place in this drab environment.
“Okay, listen.” Suhani tries to act calm in the hope that it rubs off on Mom. “I’m going to walk you through what’s probably going to happen.”
“But wha—”
“Mom, you have to pay attention and keep it together,” Suhani says.
Suhani gives Mom a breakdown of what to expect over the next twenty-four hours. To her surprise, Mom doesn’t interrupt or even cry. She just nods slowly the entire time, as if she already knew what Suhani was going to say.
“I just wish I had realized something was wrong sooner.” Mom shakes her head. “I can’t believe I let her get to this place. What kind of a mother doesn’t even know her child is suffering like this?”
What kind of a sister doesn’t know? Suhani wonders. But she grabs Mom’s soft, wrinkled hands and says, “It’s not your fault. And we can’t spend this time blaming ourselves. We just have to figure out the best way to be there for her.”
“I need to see her,” Mom says.
“Let’s go see her together,” Dad says as he approaches them wearing one of Anuj’s old T-shirts.
Dad places his hand on Mom’s lower back. He and Mom sink into each other, covered in their own silence amid the chaos swirling around them. Normally, Suhani wouldn’t have even registered any of this, but today, with everything going on with Zack, there’s a dull weight in the pit of her stomach as she takes in the brief series of gestures that shows how in sync her parents always are. Despite all the sacrifices they had to make, all the regrets Mom carries, she and Dad always have an unshakable understanding between them.
Suhani used to notice this all the time when she was little. Maybe she was more observant then because she was alone so often. During their early years in America, it was just Suhani, Mom, and Dad living in a family friend’s basement while Dad made minimum wage in residency and Mom’s job applications were rejected by Office Depot, Kmart, and Kroger. Suhani was always the last kid picked up from daycare and the perpetual odd one out during gatherings with their friends who didn’t have kids yet. But she never minded. She filled her time with books and her own thoughts. And when the three of them were finally together, she always felt loved. Every evening, they sat on the floor, spread out a tablecloth, and ate khichdi. Even now, the turmeric rice, lentils, and yogurt give her more comfort than any other type of food.
If her parents can make it through so much, why is it so hard for her and Zack? Is all this a test of their relationship, a way to see what they’re capable of overcoming? Or is it a sign that they’re not as compatible as she once thought? She refuses to dwell on the latter possibility.
As Mom takes quick, purposeful steps toward Natasha’s bed, Dad turns to Suhani and says, “You know they’re going to keep her here.”
“They have to,” Suhani says. “I know she wants to go, but it would be unsafe to discharge her. I just can’t believe this is happening.”
“I know, beta.” Dad wraps her in a hug. “But let’s hope this is all for the greater good. Her greater good. She will be monitored, put on the right medication, have the support she needs.”
Suhani nods, knowing he’s right. How different we are at the same job, she thinks. He’s so calm and collected, while I’m constantly on edge. Maybe she’s more like Mom than she realized.
“Suhani!”
At first, she thinks that her eyes are playing tricks on her. But a second glance confirms who called her name.
Roshan.
“Oh. Hi,” Suhani says. “I can’t really talk.”
Her gut tells her to walk away. But then she’ll look like she cares about his presence, taking up all the space in front of her.
“Is everything okay?” Roshan frowns. He looks right at home here. A brief look of recognition passes over his face before he says, “Hi, Uncle.”
“Hello.” Dad clears his throat in an attempt to mask his surprise. “How are you?”
“The usual, just working,” Roshan says. “I’m on call tonight and there was a stroke code, so I had to come in.”
“Right, I heard that before. I hope your patient’s okay,” Suhani says. “Sounds like it’s going to be a busy night.”
Roshan clutches the bell of his stethoscope, which is looped around his neck. Suhani tries to ignore the tightness in her chest as Dad’s eyes dart back and forth between her and Roshan. This guy could have been in their family. For a second, she imagines the three of them meeting at Atlanta Memorial, running through their days, then going home together for a big family dinner. Mom would tell jokes in Gujarati. Anita Auntie would stop by and say she hoped Karan grew up to be like Roshan.
Dad, clearly noting it’s a good time to exit the conversation, says, “Okay, then. Good to see you. I’m going to find the attending psychiatrist on call.”
“Look, I have to go,” Suhani says.
“What’s wrong?” Roshan asks.
Suhani plans to answer with a curt Nothing or Don’t worry about it but because of the sheer emotional weight of the day finds herself saying, “My sister’s going to be admitted to psych.”
“What? Natasha?” Roshan’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I hope she’s okay. If there’s anything I can do . . .”
Suhani had forgotten that Roshan always had a soft spot for Natasha. Both of them identified as misunderstood middle children, could get easily riled up, were able to shift from being charming one second to angry the next, and had a tendency to hit below the belt during fights.
As her gaze locks with his, she realizes that they never truly let each other go, at least, not in the way they should have. Maybe he had a point that day in his office. She ran away and never told him why. And maybe that made them hold on to their relationship far longer than they ever should have.
“There isn’t.” Suhani shakes her head. “But thanks.”
She can hear Mom and Natasha fighting before she even reaches Natasha’s bed.
“What’s going on here?” Suhani asks as she shifts the curtain toward the wall. Dad is shaking his head, his go-to move when he’s frustrated with their arg
uing. Zack is drawing an imaginary figure eight with his sneakers. Anuj is staring off into space.
“Mom freaking said that my comedy is the reason I’m here! Can you believe that?”
“I didn’t say that.” Mom raises her palms into the air. “I was just saying that maybe such an unstable career path isn’t the best thing right now.”
“You know what, Mom?” Natasha challenges. “Just because you didn’t make it as an actress doesn’t mean you have to ruin things for me.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Suhani says. “Look, there are a lot of heated emotions right now, but let’s all just take a second, okay? Natasha, Mom isn’t blaming your comedy for what happened. Mom, maybe you should think about how your words can be a little harsh and maybe it’s better to say nothing right now.”
“You girls,” Mom mutters. “You have no idea what harsh even is. If you only knew the way my mother spoke to me, then you’d realize a thing or two. And we clearly have a problem here. Look at where we are!”
“You never un—” Natasha starts, but Suhani cuts her off.
“Yes, we are here. But we have to figure out a way to move forward.”
“I should have known something was wrong the day of Karan’s proposal.” Mom squints. “You never told me you were having doubts about him. You never tell me anything!”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Natasha yells. “What is wrong with you? All you care about is whether I get married!”
“Yeah, the Karan situation is not relevant right now,” Suhani says.
“Don’t you start with me. I know you also don’t tell me plenty of things.” Mom points to Suhani. “Both of you keep me out of the loop.”
“When have I kept you out of the loop?”
“Where do I even start?” Mom furrows her brows. “How about with that going-nowhere-in-life guy you were with at Emory? The dull one who played that stupid game with beer and Ping-Pong tables?”
“My college boyfriend?” Suhani asks. “What does he have to do with anything?”
“Oh yeah, that guy.” Natasha smirks for the first time since Suhani’s seen her.
“Is that funny to you? And I’m sorry, how did this become about me?” Suhani asks. “I’m just trying to help both of you calm down, as usual.”
Dad clears his throat.
“Yes?” Mom holds out her palms.
Dad scrunches his eyebrows and says, “I’m wondering if you’re all arguing because it makes this situation a little less painful.”
Zack nods and stays quiet, well aware that it’s better to not get involved in any arguments with the Joshi women. Suhani’s relieved her husband knows how to keep his cool regardless of whatever chaos might be swirling around him.
Anuj smirks.
“Is something funny?” Suhani asks.
“Dad has a point with his shrink talk.” Anuj smiles. “And it’s kinda nice seeing you guys just being you.”
“I’m going to second that,” Zack chimes in.
“Actually, now that you guys say it,” Natasha says, sighing, “this is the first time I’ve felt like myself since getting to this place.”
“Hello! Everything okay in here?” Dr. Chan’s bright, strong voice fills the space on the other side of the curtain.
Translation: I just heard you all yelling at each other.
“Of course,” Suhani says.
“Everything is good!” Mom says, her acting skills coming into full force.
Suhani returns Dr. Chan’s polite smile, wondering if things will ever really be good again.
Twenty-One
Bina
I’m so sorry, my betu.” Bina rushes back to Natasha after Dr. Chan leaves. “I don’t know how to handle this situation and I said things I shouldn’t have.”
Deepak’s words, followed by Dr. Chan’s brief visit, made everything come into sharp focus. Nothing Bina and Natasha have ever argued about matters now. All that matters is that Bina’s baby is in pain and she needs to take it away.
“No, I’m so sorry. I’m such a screwup.” Natasha starts sobbing. Rings of mascara—Suhani’s mascara, no doubt—have smeared under her bloodshot eyes. Natasha’s unraveled hair and tear-streaked cheeks make her look the way she did as a little girl. She always cried so easily. My emotional little girl, Bina used to say. You feel everything too much, like I do.
“Shh, just take a deep breath.” Bina runs her fingers through Natasha’s tangled hair. Why did she have to bring up Natasha’s comedy or Karan? Why is she so obsessed with her children being married? Why can’t she ever keep her mouth shut, even when it can bring peace?
She feels the weight of Suhani’s arms around her and Natasha. “It’ll be okay.”
Bina’s phone rings with a call from Mira. A quick glance at her screen shows that she’s received more than a dozen WhatsApp messages in just the last hour. She puts her phone on silent and buries it at the bottom of her large plum leather handbag, last year’s Mother’s Day gift from the kids.
Deepak, Zack, and Anuj are unfazed as Bina and her daughters hug. Everyone knows this is the reliable pattern of all their arguments: bursts of anger followed by a steady rush of sadness and regret.
Bina clutches Natasha and makes the same hush, hush noises she had made when Natasha was a baby. Nothing else put Natasha to sleep during her first months in the world. After a certain point, Bina wondered if she was doing the rocking and soothing more for herself than for her daughter. She was so worried Natasha’s trouble sleeping would lead to the same overwhelming fears she had after Suhani’s birth, or even something worse. But to her surprise, her thoughts didn’t spiral out of control. And while childbirth broke some parts of her, others were slowly stitched together with a new sliver of hope. Maybe before, she wasn’t just being dramatic and difficult. Maybe it wasn’t all in her head. Maybe her parents were wrong and she wasn’t damaged.
Of course you’re damaged, her mother’s voice challenges in her head. After everything you’ve done, look at where your own child ended up.
It’s true. Natasha did end up here. Bina takes in the sea of faces coming in and out, the pamphlet on depression Dr. Chan left on the table, the smell of sickness lingering everywhere. She’ll be damned if Natasha thinks she’s going through this alone. That’s the worst part of reaching a place so low—the corrosive sense of isolation—and there’s no way she’ll allow Natasha to be submerged in that.
“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” Natasha hiccups and gazes at Bina.
“Mad? I’m not mad at all, betu. All we”—she points to the rest of the family—“want is for you to be okay.”
“And I want to go home.” Natasha faces Suhani. “Can you get them to hurry up and discharge me?”
“Beta, we should talk to you about that.” Bina keeps Natasha in her firm grip. She’s exhausted and wired at the same time.
“About what?” Natasha asks.
Silence stretches across them. Suhani gives Bina a look that says, I’m going to tell her now. Bina is compelled to stop her. They can tell Natasha later. Or maybe they can find a way to get her home.
But she takes another look at Natasha’s sunken eyes. This has to happen even if the thought of Natasha being on a psychiatric ward terrifies Bina to her core. She has to push that aside and keep Natasha safe. Sometimes the best thing you can do for your child is protect them from your own fears.
“You’re going to have to stay here,” Suhani says. “For multiple days.”
“What? Why?!” Natasha’s eyes widen. “I don’t want to be here!”
“I know. We don’t want that for you, either. But it’s what you need,” Suhani says. Deepak nods in agreement behind her.
“So you’re keeping me here against my will? Even though I could go home with two doctors? Two psychiatrists?”
“I’m sorry but this is what’s best for y
ou. And, yes, if you’re not going to go willingly, it’s technically an involuntary admission.” Suhani squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath, as if to force herself to stay calm. Underneath her sadness, Bina senses a newfound pride for Suhani being able to deliver such emotionally charged news with compassion. Her daughter has grown up to be an empathetic doctor and sister.
“NO!” Natasha jumps off the bed. “YOU ARE NOT LOCKING ME UP!”
Two security guards rush in.
Deepak holds up his hands. “We’re fine in here. Thank you.”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Bina asks. “Why are they here?”
“If Natasha refuses to go, they might have to medicate her.” Deepak is composed as he explains the horrifying protocol the hospital has for patients who resist admission.
How are you saying this so calmly? Bina thinks.
Suhani once told Bina that Zack and Deepak are similar in that way, both of them able to maintain a sense of tranquility no matter how charged the situation. This is one of the best things about them. This is one of the most irritating things about them.
“They can’t do that!” Bina says.
Deepak clasps his palms together as if he’s about to give an important lecture. “Maybe everyone should step out so Natasha and I can talk.”
Bina hesitates. It feels wrong to leave Natasha’s side at all. But Deepak’s firm expression tells her it’s what she has to do. Suhani grabs Bina’s hand while Zack puts his arms around her.
“It’ll be okay, Mom,” Anuj says once they’re back in the waiting room.
“He’s right,” Suhani agrees. “And I’ll check on her throughout the day when I’m at work. I can make sure the resident taking care of her is on top of everything. Trust me.”
Suhani hands Bina a printout that has the main psychiatric ward’s visiting hours, rules of the ward (Bina can’t bring anything with cords or sharp edges), and names of the head psychiatrists.
“I don’t understand how Natasha can be depressed,” Bina says. “We’ve given her everything. We’ve given all you kids everything. All Dad and I wanted was to make sure you didn’t struggle the way we did.”