by Sadie Sumner
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” Kavitha hissed between her teeth.
“See,” Arun turned to Ria, “Crazy like I told you. You should go now.”
Ria obeyed her father. He watched her go then took hold of Kavitha’s hand. “Can you climb on the bed my little chucklee?” he asked gently.
Kavitha nodded. He helped her up and she lay on her side. “Just look at me,” he whispered, and he held her hand and panted with her through the next contraction.
“Highly irregular,” Dr. Devi said. “No husbands.”
He ignored her. “Just breathe my little chucklee. When our Ria was born, you were so good at having her.” His voice dropped down to a whisper. “Breathe, chucklee, breathe.”
Monica wished the wall would swallow her as Arun talked and sung and breathed Kavitha through each contraction. He held her hands and helped her to sit and wiped her forehead and gave her chips of ice to suck. She turned on all fours, and he rubbed her back “My beautiful Kavi. You do this so well.” His voice reverted to a sing-song Hindi.
Monica felt herself collapsing. His love undid every shallow moment she had spent with Gil. She was of no use in this room, and she felt her confidence in herself, in her everything that made her life, slip away.
“Will you turn down the lights,” Arun asked, and she found the switch and dimmed the lights and slipped out of the room.
In the dark reception area, Ria sat on the window seat, her back against the wall. Monica took the other end and sat in a half lotus. She considered her phone, put it away then changed her mind and sent a text. A sudden desire to put her palms to her heart and intone the Om filled her. But Ria would laugh. “Are you into yoga?” she asked.
Ria shrugged “Sure, for spiritual growth.”
“We do it for spiritual enlightenment too.”
It was almost morning, and a steady stream of small handcarts passed their window, laden with fruit and vegetables for a nearby market.
“I think we mean different things,” Ria said. “We don’t combine yoga and fashion.”
A long wail reached them. “Why aren’t you in there?” Ria put her hands over her ears.
Monica stood and went through a series of yoga positions. She needed to calm her mind and bring herself back to a safe place.
“Do you do hot yoga?” Ria asked.
Monica nodded from her downward dog.
“I don’t want to go to America.” On the window seat, Ria moved with ease into a full body twist and caught her left foot with her left hand behind her back.
Monica had been working on that pose for a year without success. “Canada, we live in Canada. It’s very different.”
“Is it too much for you?” Ria deepened the stretch.
“Is what too much for me?”
“All of this stuff you can’t control.”
Monica moved into a warrior position. “Can you see it from our perspective at all?”
“I can. You realize too late you want a baby after all. So you decide to buy one, and my country is offering special deals on the bodies of poor women.”
Monica sighed and took her left heel into her hand and stretched her leg out and was pleased with her balance. “But the money will get your parents back on their feet. It will pay for you to finish university and by the next generation, you’ll all be lifted up. There are no unhappy customers here.” She lost her balance, and the pose collapsed.
“In the ethics paper I’m taking they give both sides but it just never adds up. Even our tutor says the textbook denies the reality of women whose only choice is to sell her body.”
Monica sat next to Ria and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Ria sniffed, and Monica realized she was also holding back tears. “I’m supposed to graduate in a year. All A’s too. She did this for me.”
They both looked out the window where the early light was pearlescent, and the air still clear.
“Are you the mother? I mean, the genetic mother?” Ria spoke so softly Monica leaned towards her.
“No.” She thought of the blonde girl from Saskatoon who sold her eggs to pay for her university.
“Do you at least know who the mother is?”
“I do.”
“Personally?” Ria asked.
“No,” she paused. “But I think ‘mother’ is the wrong term. She’s an egg donor, some of her genetic material is passed on, but that’s not the same as being a mother.”
They heard Kavitha moan, a long drawn out sound that reminded Monica of the whale music Chloe had played every day before her baby came.
Ria covered her ears again. “And when your daughter wants to know why and who she is and she looks to you and all she sees is a stranger, what will you say to her?”
Monica wanted to run till her breath was gone and find the graveyard with the broken headstones and throw herself under the leaves and the vines. The door sprung open, and Gil and Rufus arrived in a rush. They brought in the sounds of the city just waking up.
Gil turned in a circle of confusion, and Rufus found a light switch and flooded the reception area with brightness. He smiled at Monica and tried to hug her, but she brushed past him and turned off the light and sat back next to Ria.
“What are you doing here Rufus? Who’s running our company?” She ignored Gil.
“Chloe. She knows what she’s doing.”
Gil tried to sit beside her.
“Don’t come near me. Either of you.” Monica held up her hand as Rufus tried to speak.
“And you are?” Gil asked Ria as a long moan came from the birthing room.
“My god,” Rufus said, “What are they doing to her?” He glanced at Monica. “It sounds like whale music.”
Ria glanced at each of them and stood and went outside. Monica walked to the end of the corridor, and the men followed. She peeked in. Kavitha’s face was slick with sweat and Arun looked terrified. Dr. Devi was at the end of the bed on a rolling stool.
“Can I go in?” Rufus asked.
Monica looked at him in disgust. “Oh, why not.” She followed him in.
“Go away.” Dr. Devi flapped her gloved hands.
Rufus shook his head.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“The best friend.” Rufus smiled.
“This is highly irregular. You must leave.” She turned away as Kavitha’s moans intensified and Arun helped her from her side to all fours.
“She’s the one who’s highly irregular,” Rufus whispered to Monica. “She doesn’t even have a nurse. She should be afraid of a lawsuit.”
“It’s probably not fair on Kavitha, us being here,” Monica said.
“I don’t think she’s aware of anything.” Rufus shielded his face from the activity on the bed. But Monica couldn’t look away. Kavitha’s moans became so drawn-out they seemed to defy the human breath. And then in a moment of pure silence, they were suspended above a ravine filled with all of humanity and the baby let out a small cry. Kavitha let out a long sigh and turned herself slowly around, while Arun stacked pillows behind her. The doctor held the baby up as if it were a trophy then handed her into Kavitha’s outstretched hands. Monica watched as Kavitha unconsciously put Nina to her breast. Arun stroked his wife’s forehead, and they looked in amazement at the white baby that lay on her chest.
Twenty-Five
Monica held her hand flat to the wall to keep from falling. Dr. Devi had pushed them out of the room, insisting she would bring the baby as soon as they were cleaned up. In reception, Ria jumped up, her hair on end as though she’d been pulling at it.
Monica reassured her and was surprised how normal her voice sounded when in fact she was chilled and dazed with shock.
Gil slumped on to the window seat, his head in his hands, and Rufus sat beside him with a silly smile.
Dr. Devi came along the corridor and removed her gloves with a flourish. “Monica and Gil, congratulations. Your daughter is perfect.” Her voice was bright.
�
�I thought we could cut the cord.” Monica realized she was close to fainting.
“Next time,” the doctor said.
Ria came rushing through the door. “Can you tell me how my mother is?”
The doctor turned to Rufus. “You said you are the father?”
Ria stepped in front of her. “Hello. Will you tell me how my mother is?”
“Ah, the difficult daughter. I have a model patient, and then your father arrives. It’s all against the rules.” She frowned at Rufus. “In fact, all of this is against the rules.”
“It would be so much easier if you could just grow them in a machine?” Ria said. The doctor nodded absently then realized and glared at her.
“Can we see her now?” Monica asked.
“I think I’ll wait,” Gil said.
Monica pulled his t-shirt. Rufus stayed on the window seat for a moment then jumped up and followed them down the corridor. “Come on big sister.” He took Ria’s arm.
Kavitha lay propped by pillows with Arun standing beside her as she held the baby tight. Monica stopped in the doorway. Nina’s hair seemed to glow a pale white gold under the lights. She looked exactly like the phantom baby.
Dr. Devi smiled at Kavitha and gently lifted the child. Monica held out her arms and took the perfectly wrapped bundle and gazed at the full moon of her face. Pale lashes fringed her eyes, and her eyebrows were almost invisible. She felt the weight of the baby in her arms, and it was just as she had imagined. Gil watched her, and she knew they all expected her to fall in love right now, on the spot, and she wondered when her heart would leap and wrap itself around the tiny bundle she had created.
Instead, her arms ached, and her heart felt heavy. She wanted to be back at home, in her bed, in the moments before she fully woke, when everything was still possible.
Rufus tapped her arm. “My turn.” He floated the baby on his palms. “Hello Nina,” he said and turned to Gil. “Look how perfect she is.”
Monica sat on the doctor’s rolling stool. Around her, people were talking, but she strained to hear them. Why didn’t she bring a gift for Kavitha? And they had no clothes for the baby, not a thing. The list from the agency was on the table in the hotel. The doctor was filling out forms at a desk in the far corner. She saw Gil peer at the baby and the lines of his mouth transformed into a real smile. She saw his eyes pop wide in an exaggeration of surprise as he gazed at her, and she saw his hand go to his heart as he began to cry. She saw Kavitha reach out and stroke Ria’s spiky hair. And she saw Arun lift his wife’s fingers to his lips.
The baby made a mewling sound, and Rufus and Gil glanced about in fear. The doctor laughed and took Nina from their arms and gave her to Kavitha.
“Can you forgive me, my chucklee?” Arun said as the baby began to nuzzle. The men watched, transfixed as the baby made small snuffling sounds.
Kavitha smiled at Monica. “She is a very beautiful baby.”
“Surprisingly white,” Ria said, and everyone laughed. “Daddy, where were you?”
Kavitha answered for him. “We were just talking about that. He went to do penance.”
“With the naked holy men?” Ria was amazed.
“Sadhu like you said. Mostly.” Arun shook his long matted hair. “Perhaps if the doctor has scissors I can remove this now.”
“I’ll do it for you,” Rufus said, “I used to be a hairdresser.”
Gil looked at him in surprise. “When?”
“I have secrets, too, you know,” Rufus took the scissors and left with Arun.
“Who can understand the hearts of men?” Kavitha lifted the baby from her breast. “Would you like to hold her again?” Kavitha shifted her weight painfully.
Monica held Nina and felt her warmth.
“What happens now, with the baby?” Ria asked.
“I would like to feed her for the next week, give her a good start, say my goodbye. Make sure she knows I welcomed her.”
“If we got you a room at the hotel, would you stay with us there for the week?” Monica asked as Nina looked up with eyes of Midwest blue.
All at once Kavitha was alone with Monica. The doctor had taken the placenta away to examine. The baby’s father had left to sign papers, and Ria had held up her phone and almost run from the room. Kavitha wanted to jump up and show Monica how to cradle her baby, but she let herself float in the minutes between the cramps. She had forgotten this part. With Ria, the after-effects dissolved into the joy of her perfection and the surprising warmth that sprang from her prim and over-modest husband. Arun was her parents’ choice, the arrangements made when they were still children, a prosperous alliance foretold, her mother reminded her as she made her bed the morning before Mr. Batra came to her door. But now she felt the separation, as though the baby, her baby, was obscured behind a curtain of the lightest chiffon.
She was pleased her parents were not here to see this. “Have you held a baby before?” she asked Monica and was surprised at how gentle her voice was, despite the pain she had endured for this woman.
“Well, once, at my work.” Monica moved Nina in her arms. “And a few times when I was growing up.”
Kavitha tried to conjure anger, but all she saw was a lonely woman who had almost never held a child before.
“Dotty, my mother, was not very keen on children.” Her eyes glued to Nina. “I don’t think our friends with babies trusted me. I maybe had anger issues when I was young.”
Kavitha realized that Monica was telling this tiny part of her story for the first time, and it made her want to cover her ears. She needed to believe what Dr. Devi had told her, that a perfect happy family welcomed each child. And it would grow up with a green lawn and a white picket fence and an air-conditioned mall full of every conceivable thing. “There were too many babies when I was a child.” Kavitha paused and breathed through a cramp. “Every family on our landing had babies. I still live there.” She tried to imagine Monica’s home. “Everyone my age has left. My poor Ria grew up in a retirement home.” Kavitha laughed softly.
“I was there,” Monica said.
“Oh.” Kavitha felt a chill. That meant Monica had seen her empty flat. A cramp flooded her body, and she grimaced and clenched her hands. Rufus came back with Arun, who stood with his hands behind his back and smiled shyly. His hair was cut short in a style he would never have considered before. He looked like a boy, and so thin Kavitha would hardly have recognized him on the street. She could not make sense of this new man. He seemed unafraid, and yet it looked like he had nearly died of hunger. She wondered about his life away from her, where he would have been considered an inferior babas. Then she stopped herself. He deserved every hardship.
“I’ve booked an extra hotel room.” Gil swung in. “The doctor says we can all leave in a couple of hours when Kavitha is ready. He turned to her. “You are coming with us, aren’t you?”
Kavitha placed her hands along the side of her breasts. She could feel them already hardening with new milk. She could not decide. Nina’s alien whiteness repelled her. And yet she felt a deep ache for the baby and her impending loss. I told you so, she said to herself under her breath, you should have known better. And it was the exact tone her mother would have used.
“Do we wash her?” Monica asked.
“No,” Kavitha replied. “Not for two days, to protect her skin.”
The doctor took the baby from Monica's arms and laid her on the changing table. “I’ll just finish my examination and weigh her again, and then we can call you a taxi. She is small but not enough to worry. Do you have her clothes?”
Monica shook her head, and Rufus gave a short, embarrassed laugh.
“At the hotel,” Gil said. “We ran out so fast we forgot them.”
They clustered around the changing table, and Kavitha watched, stranded on the bed where she had given birth.
When Nina was ready, Dr. Devi helped Kavitha dress while the others waited in the reception. Everything hurt, and she moved in a dream as she pulled on track pant
s and a t-shirt. At least she had not been wearing a sari when the baby started to come.
“I’ll examine you at the hotel tomorrow.” The doctor handed her a wrapped box of pads. “You are very lucky, you know. Such a fast birth, so easy and you get to stay in a five-star hotel. But I warn you, do not grow close to this baby. She is not yours.”
“My milk is good for her,” Kavitha spoke strongly to ward off the doctor’s intimidation.
“But it will hurt you both when the time comes.”
Kavitha looked closely at her. “You have not expressed this concern before.”
“What do you mean?” Dr. Devi held the baby.
“For how the child might feel.”
“Your daughter has been problem enough. Stay no more than one week, and we will pay you then.”
“Why not now? I have fulfilled my side of the contract.” A wave of exhaustion flooded her.
The doctor sighed. “Because the client has asked you to stay on. We can only pay when they leave with the baby.”
Kavitha felt the unfairness in the ache of her body and knew that Ria was right about it all.
They took two taxis with the women together in one, and the men following. Ria held her mother’s hand while Monica held the baby, afraid every bump and turn would damage her.
On the hotel forecourt, the doorman held the door for Monica and Nina but turned away as Kavitha climbed out and leaned on Ria as she followed Monica across the marble-floored lobby. Nina began to cry, and Monica let out a small whoop of fear. In the elevator, Kavitha took her and rocked her in her arms.
They waited in the hallway for Gil to arrive with the key and Kavitha thought she might collapse.
“Our room is right next door,” Monica said. “We have a connecting door.”
Gil let them in. Kavitha was stunned. She had never been in such a place. Everything was soft and padded, as though you were required to acquiesce to its comforts.
Rufus fussed around, arranging the pillows on the sofa. “Do you need to be in bed?” he asked.
Kavitha nodded. She desperately wanted to lie down.