by Sadie Sumner
“Go, go, everyone,” Arun said. “She needs to rest.”
Gil asked if they wanted food and Kavitha realized how hungry she was.
When Kavitha and Arun were alone, he took the baby from her arms and pulled back the covers and helped her to remove the track pants.
“My little chucklee,” he said. For a moment Kavitha wondered if she was mistaken and this was not her husband.
“Do not call me chucklee.” She slid into the bed and was amazed at the size and softness and the pure white sheets. Arun placed the baby beside her, and she lay on her side, lifted her top and began to feed.
She touched Nina’s tiny curled fingers and marveled at her translucent nails and the gossamer of her hair and the perfect smudge of her nose.
Arun watched her. “I cannot get over how white she is.” He clasped his palms together. “Can you ever forgive me?”
She got slowly out of bed. “Watch the baby,” she said and went to the bathroom and closed the door. The mirror covered the whole wall, and she was amazed at her reflection. She looked the same as yesterday, no different than before all this started. In the shower, she laid her hand over the swell of her stomach and knew it would soon be a baggy pouch and she leaned against the wall and cried into the hot water.
The heat caused her breasts to leak, and she wrapped herself in the hotel robe.
“I hope they bring diapers soon.” Arun walked Nina around the room, and Kavitha listened to her snuffling noise, the same sounds Ria made as a baby. Something loosened in her heart. Marooned inside her, Nina had missed out on all her love.
She leaned for a moment at the window. Below a market had sprung up along the edge of the waterway beside the slum. Carts overflowing with of watermelons and limes blocked a lane of traffic. Kavitha placed her forehead on the double-paned glass and wished she could smell the Mughlai paratha she could see cooking on the makeshift grill.
She closed the sheer white curtains and returned to the bed, determined to ignore everything except Nina. The doctor was right. They were lucky. Monica was strange, and she could not make sense of the relationship between the three of them, but still, they allowed Arun and Ria to be here. And she could feed the baby, and for that she was grateful.
Nina lay asleep in her arms. They had dressed her in spare clothes Dr. Devi dug out from a back room.
“What will we do when this money runs out?” she asked Arun. “And the police. They will still come for you.”
Arun tried a smile, and she saw his once white teeth were now yellow. “They have dropped the charges. Did Mr. Maity not call you? He kept the keys and asked the police to inspect for safety. We were lucky the building did not collapse on us. The owners agreed to drop all charges in return for a warning about the unsafe building.”
Kavitha had never liked the foreman. He would enter her office so silently she would not know he was there.
“Did you ask him to do that?” She remembered him on the last day when he slipped a set of keys in his pocket.
“I did.” Arun bowed his head.
“Then why did you not come home? Or call me?”
He paced the room with his hands in his pockets. “I have done everything right in my life. I have lived as my parents wished. I married as they wished. I went to find out.”
“You had feelings, which you did not share with me.” It had not occurred to Kavitha that her marriage might be in trouble.
He nodded and stared at the baby.
“But you abandoned us,” Kavitha said.
“I knew you would be strong enough to manage.”
The idea that he considered her strong enough filled Kavitha with confusion. “And what did you decide?”
“This. I chose us.”
Finally, Kavitha felt the anger. “You have chosen us, your family? I had no idea we were so lucky. Did this even enter your mind?” She pointed to the baby and her face flushed, and she felt her chest hollow as Nina opened her eyes.
Arun shook his head. “I will spend my life making it better. Can you forgive me?”
Kavitha could not answer. She put the baby to her breast and let her wet hair fall over her face.
Twenty-Six
When the others returned, Kavitha and Nina were asleep in the bed, with Arun slumped on the sofa. He jumped up with his finger to his lips, and they tiptoed in. A porter with a trolley of food followed them. He opened the legs of a portable table and arranged the platters of food.
Kavitha heard them in the distance and wondered when the cramping would stop and if the pain in her breasts was the milk letting down already. The smell of cooking broke through her exhaustion, and she propped herself against the pillows and ate the Western meal as if it was her last. She watched Arun as he cut his serving of potatoes and green beans into tiny pieces and chewed each one till it was pulp. And they all stared at Nina, asleep on the bed.
“How was our department store?” Kavitha asked as they cleared away the remains of the food and Monica spread new baby clothes over the bed.
“A little dusty,” Monica said. “And lots from last season or older. I thought, because you make the clothes here, you would be up to date.”
“It does not work like that.” Arun and Kavitha shared a smile.
“You have bought well,” Kavitha said as she looked over the clothing. “She will look lovely in these.” A deep fear for the child gripped her. “Will you send me photos as she grows?” she asked as she folded a tiny dress over and over.
Kavitha wondered when Monica would learn to hold her baby properly and when she would begin to care for her. She did not understand this woman or how she would transition to the reality of new motherhood when she had not carried the baby inside her body. When Ria was a baby, they had swaddled her with love from the moment they knew she was coming. Kavitha saw now how she and Arun had turned their focus away from each other and on to the kernel of life growing within her. And how that nine-month sojourn had made her a mother as much as all the years of mothering that followed. Ria had invaded her in every way possible, and she had come to respect first the life force and then the person. She saw now how she had shut herself away from Nina, her womb walled off from all but the physical functions of her body. The child had been a nameless presence, a job of work to solve her financial situation. The ideas made her weak with despair for what she had done. And she wondered at the unnatural relationship the child would have with her commissioning parent, her erstwhile mother.
Nina stirred, and Kavitha gazed at her, and her tears felt hot and bitter. How would this tiny blonde child, created to service her mother's need to fill an empty life, survive or thrive? She wished now she had opened her heart to Nina, and a searing guilt filled her. She should have been Nina’s mother, even for the short time she’d carried her, so that the child could have felt the presence of natural love.
Gil and Monica did not return that evening, and Arun and Ria left to visit Mr. Batra and see about retrieving their furniture. Kavitha spent the night dozing and talking to the baby in whispered Hindi, draping her in the sounds and stories of a life so different from the one they would take her to.
In the morning Dr. Devi came and helped Kavitha to shower. She watched as Kavitha fed the baby and changed her diaper with a practiced hand.
“You are very good at this, Kavitha. I have another couple wanting to make a family; perhaps you would consider helping them also. We would, of course, pay you more.”
Kavitha held the baby close and shook her head. She could not do this to a child again.
When the doctor left Rufus knocked shyly and came in with trays of breakfast. He told her about the phuchka and other street foods he had eaten the night before and how he'd dropped his wallet and the phuchkawallah had chased him down the road to return it.
Kavitha could hear his amazement as if he had expected only danger and lawlessness in their city. “You might try our famous kathi rolls today,” she said and told him about her favorite, the thin roti wrapped arou
nd a stuffing of ginger-garlic paste and potato. They were alone in the room, and she watched as he rocked Nina in his arms and gazed into her tiny face. Through the wall, they heard a crash and Monica’s voice raised in shrill anger.
“Have they seen their baby today?” he asked.
Kavitha moved her head. “Not today, not since late afternoon.”
Rufus shrugged. “They have issues.”
Nina coughed, and he laid her down on the bed. “My hands are trembling,” he said. “It started when I first held her. Now it is in my arms and through my body.” He touched his chest. “I want to hold her and never let go. But she makes me afraid.”
Kavitha picked up the baby and took her to the table where she had folded towels to make a safe changing area. “Here,” she said, “Let me show you how to change her.”
Rufus took a small stuffed rabbit from his bag and flipped it up and down in front of the baby. “I feel like every corny movie rolled into one,” he laughed and cooed.
“I don’t think she can quite focus yet,” Kavitha said.
Rufus was surprised. “But everyone gets soft toys for a new baby.” He stuffed the rabbit down the front of his shirt. The argument through the wall grew in volume.
“Do they do this often?” Kavitha asked.
“Not that I’ve seen. Gil drinks, more than he lets on.” He paused to consider. “I’m not sure why I'm telling you this.”
Kavitha moved her head and smiled softly.
“They have a bar cart in the corner of the living room. Always full. But you know, now I think about it, Monica does all the work. Maybe that’s why they stopped having dinner parties. He just gets drunk, and she serves and cleans up and makes excuses for his slurred words and unsteady gait.”
“So why do they want a baby?” Kavitha asked.
“They don’t. Just Monica. You know she stole his sperm.” It felt disloyal but somehow freeing to admit the truth.
Kavitha’s body ached all over, and she could not stand for more than a few minutes. She pointed to the sofa and settled the baby into his arms and tried to imagine their house and their lives, so different from her own. They sat together, and Rufus ran his hand over the pale fuzz of the baby’s head.
“You can tell me anything,” Kavitha said and tucked her legs as she tried to get comfortable.
“I wanted her to be my baby, but my swimmers don’t work.”
Kavitha frowned, and Rufus smiled.
“My you-knows,” he pointed down, and Kavitha smiled. “And she can’t even afford this baby. She paid for most of it on the business credit card.” He looked around as though he might get caught. “We’ll have to sell the business. And Gil wants a divorce. And now there’s this perfect child smack in the middle of the mess.” He fought back the tears.
“Where do you fit in?” Kavitha asked. She could not place this man boy.
Rufus stood and paced the room with Nina in his arms. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m here, except Gil asked me to come. I suppose to support him against Monica.” He lowered his voice. “I couldn’t say no. I could never say no, not to him.”
In a flash Kavitha understood. “Has it always been like that?” she asked.
Rufus nodded.
Kavitha peered at him. “But if they are going to be divorced, would that not be the answer to your problem?”
Rufus looked at her in surprise. “What problem?” The baby began to fuss, and Kavitha held up her arms and Rufus passed her over. “The problem of your heart.”
Rufus flushed and sat next to her and slumped over with his face in his hands. “Is it that obvious?” he mumbled.
With her free hand, Kavitha patted his back, “Does he know?”
“Yes. No. We’ve never discussed it.”
Kavitha put the baby to her breast, and Rufus turned away.
Outside, haze blurred the lines of the city. “Is the temperature in here okay?” he asked as a way to regain his composure.
Kavitha nodded, and they sat in silence until a yelp came through the wall and then the sound of crockery smashing.
“They’re working it out.” Rufus traced a finger across Nina’s toes. “We’re all going to work it out. Aren’t we my little chucklee?”
“That’s Arun’s secret name for me,” Kavitha said.
“I heard him call you that. I love it.”
“I know you have not asked for my advice but may I say two things?”
Rufus nodded.
“Everyone knows you cannot use a baby to save a marriage.” It felt strange to say something so obvious.
“I guess they didn’t get that memo," Rufus said. "What’s the second?”
“You cannot outrun yourself forever. My Arun tried to do that, and it got him in a lot of trouble.”
They both gazed at the baby.
“You’re right.” Rufus pressed his lips to Nina’s foot. “If not now, then when?”
Kavitha held out her hand and he took it and squeezed it. “Thank you. Wish me luck.” He pushed the stuffed rabbit further inside his shirt and went through the connecting door and closed it behind him.
Twenty-Seven
Monica was in the middle of the messed up room. Her curls had come loose and transformed into a wreath of wool that stood up from her head. She’d buttoned her blouse unevenly, and her eyes were wild.
“You!” she screamed at Rufus, “Why are you even here?”
Rufus looked to Gil, who gave an imperceptible shrug.
The sight of the stuffed toy rabbit down the front of his shirt made Monica even more furious. “The business is falling apart, and you’re in India. Why have I surrounded myself with the most incompetent men in history?”
“The baby.” Rufus pointed towards the connecting door. “We should keep our voices down,” he said.
Gil righted an overturned chair. He held up his palm, wrapped in a handkerchief as a petal of red bloomed on the white cotton. “I tried to catch a flying plate, like an idiot.”
Monica perched on the edge of the sofa, the twin of the one in Kavitha’s room. She could see how thin Gil had become in just a few days.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Rufus said. “But somehow here we all are.”
Monica glared at him. “If the business collapses it will be your fault.”
“No.” Rufus put his hands on his hips. “Not this time. You can’t make me guilty for everything. You put your baby on the business. I’m not carrying your weight, not any more. We were meant to be partners, but you treat me like your assistant. Or your pet.” He instinctively stroked the toy rabbit inside his shirt.
Gil smiled, and to Monica, it appeared he was about to clap his hands.
“Okay, so while we’re being direct Mon, I’m going to ask my lawyer if I can sue you for misuse and illegal seizure of my property.”
“What property?” Monica saw the bright lights behind her blind eye.
“My sperm. It’s a violation of my manhood.” The words rushed out of Gil.
Monica felt a rising coldness as though someone had turned the air conditioning to frost. “You threw it away,” she said in a steely voice. “You can't steal something that’s thrown away.”
Gil was about to protest, but she waved her hand dismissively. “What do you think your genetic code is worth anyway? I borrowed it and had it mixed with a girl from Saskatoon. It’s no longer yours or hers. It belongs to Nina now.” Her teeth felt like chalk. She’d spent ten years of her life sleeping beside Gil, supporting and encouraging him and now she felt him separate from her, as distant as though they were already divorced.
Rufus clasped the toy rabbit to his chest. “I have something to say.”
Monica held up a finger. “This is my time for venting. I have not finished yelling yet.” She paced the room.
“But I need to speak.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. What? And put that stupid toy rabbit down.”
“I love Gil.” Rufus turned to Gil. “I’m in love wi
th you. With every stupid, selfish, shallow particle of you.”
Gil stared at him, open-mouthed. Monica felt like they were standing on a platform, in the second before the rush of the train. Then she began to sway.
“Get her a chair,” Rufus said. Gil pushed one behind her, and she smiled at him and sat as calm as a cat before a fire.
“Okay.” She was matter of fact. “That makes sense. I knew that. Has it been for all these years we worked together?”
Rufus pressed his lips and nodded.
“And before, when we were both at university together?” Gil asked.
“Yes.” He pushed his fingers into the toy rabbit.
“I have to think," Gil said. “I’m not gay. I have a nice life.”
“Fuck that.” Rufus threw the stuffed rabbit at him. “You are. And no, you don’t have a nice life. All you ever say is sorry. You’re a shadow of the man I first met. And you can’t blame her. You did this to yourself.”
Monica entwined her fingers. “I’m with him. Your life sucks.”
Gil jerked his head back. “Maybe I’m asexual? That’s all. That would explain it.” He picked up the toy rabbit and stroked it.
“You’re such an idiot; it was never about sex.” Rufus snatched the rabbit from him.
Gil glared at Rufus. “What gives you the right to explode my life? Why the fuck would you do that?”
Rufus nodded as though to himself. “It’s Kavitha’s fault. She said you couldn’t outrun yourself.”
Gil rolled on the balls of his feet. “I don’t even know what that means, but you could have tried.”
“I have been, all these years.” Rufus stalked around the torn up room. “What we need is therapy.”
Monica groaned. “I understand. I do. My entire life with both of you has been a lie. But there is something I don’t get.” She spoke as though from a distance. “Why me? Neither of you needed me. You’re gay. You’re asexual. I wonder what that makes me?” She glared at both men. “No answer? Okay, I’ll be off then.” She glanced towards the door to Kavitha and Nina’s room then walked into the hallway and ran to the elevator, possessed by the need to get out, to get away from them and everything in her life. In the elevator, she stretched her arms above her head and did a deep bend. Without thinking she ran across the marble foyer and out onto the forecourt and along the cacophony of the street. She wove through the crowds and bicycles and stepped out into the road to avoid a group of schoolgirls. Furious horns engulfed her as an auto rickshaw swerved to miss her. She turned down a side street, around the end of a small park and pushed her way past a crowded entrance to the market and found what she was looking for – Starbucks. Inside, the café smelled the same as the one near her office. Starbucks was against all their health rules. It was her secret from Gil, a private indulgence. ‘In times of stress, we all go to Starbucks’ she’d said to Rufus when he’d caught her with a tall caramel frappuccino piled with cream and syrup.