Chapter 46
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Simran comes downstairs fully dressed to find Kiran happily munching leftover chaat next to their mother. And if that’s not a strange enough sight, their masi stands at the stove, stirring a pot and talking to her mom.
“...I’ll speak to your oncologist. I don’t think you need further treatment. With negative lymph nodes, the chances of recurrence are low.”
Simran reaches the foot of the stairs. Kiran and her mom look up and freeze. Her masi, who has her back to Simran, keeps going as she shuts off the stove. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of—” She halts as she spots Simran, too.
Simran sighs inwardly. After her chat with Manny, she’d asked TJ to take her home.
They spent the rest of the evening in her bedroom, Simran ignoring her buzzing phone except for when Nick called to tell her Rajan was alive.
Then she sank to the floor in her beautiful anarkali and cried so hard not even TJ could have salvaged her makeup.
TJ left shortly after, and when Simran’s family came home, she simply pretended to be asleep.
So, now’s her first time showing her face with all the secrets out. Is it too much to hope she’ll walk away unscathed? She gives them all a bland smile and heads for the door. One, two, three—
Surprisingly, it’s her masi who speaks.
“Simran putt, where are you off to?”
Her words are polite, but firm. Simran stops. When did she become the nuclear daughter? That used to be Kiran.
Simran faces them. “I’m visiting my friend Rajan in the hospital.”
Spoons clack on plates. Kiran’s eyes are round. She probably didn’t think Simran would announce it so boldly. Her masi glances quickly at her mom, and Simran’s gaze unwillingly goes there, too.
Her mom looks at the ceiling instead of her. Simran almost thinks she’s going to ignore her, which is probably the best outcome. But then she says, “Go if you must.”
Simran waits. The silence stretches. When she starts for the door again, her mother adds, “But I won’t speak to you anymore.”
Simran freezes.
“Tarleen,” Simran’s masi admonishes, in similar horror. “Don’t you think that’s harsh?”
Kiran interjects. “Don’t worry, Masi ji, that’s just Mom for you.” She rolls her eyes, apparently over her shock. “She loves being dramatic. Remember when I said I’d never get married? Mom said she wouldn’t talk to me again. But here we are.” She laughs. Bitterly.
Simran remembers that day vividly. It’s true that, eventually, they started talking again—out of necessity. But Simran’s seen how they interact now. Shallowly. No warmth, no meaning.
Simran knows she’s hanging from the same precipice. If she goes, it will be the final straw. She has to, though. She needs to see that Rajan’s okay.
But she wants her mother’s blessing. “Mom, please—”
“You think I’m trying to hurt you?” Her mother’s eyes are bright.
“I’m trying to stop you from being hurt.
You think I don’t know, while I’ve been sick, what you’ve been up to?
Where you’ve been? Who you’ve been with?
” Each of these questions hits Simran in the gut.
“I’ve seen your grades this semester, left out on your desk.
I’ve heard the voicemails from Hillway, wondering where you are when you’re not answering your phone.
I watched you at Neetu’s party, acting like you were drunk or worse.
I’ve noticed you disappear at odd hours, without telling anyone where you’re going. ”
Simran’s face heats. Her mother’s been paying attention this whole time? “None of that has to do with Rajan.”
“It has everything to do with him. He came into your life and it immediately began falling apart. If he hadn’t been there, would you have done any of those things?”
Simran’s eyes burn. The kitchen is silent.
“Listen to me.” Her mother folds her hands on the tabletop. “When I leave this world one day—”
“Mom, you’re not dying—”
“—the only thing I want is to know you’ll be safe and settled and happy.”
An ache builds in Simran’s chest. Happy.
Historically, her mom has always known what’s best for her before she does.
Like, Stop biting your hangnail or it’ll bleed.
You’ll get hungry, take a parantha. Clean your room or you’ll never be able to find anything.
The list goes on; her mother can see, ten steps ahead, what will hurt her, while Simran ignores the warning signs and plows forward.
Is her mom seeing this before it happens, too? Simran had scoffed at TJ for how she avoided the big questions of life posed by her parents, but maybe Simran’s doing the same. Maybe she’s a silly, inexperienced girl making a mistake.
Her masi speaks. “This is ridiculous, Tarleen.” She bangs the pot down, voice rising. “Children make their own choices. Accept it. You say your piece and let them learn for themselves. Or who knows, maybe you’ll be proven wrong.”
This seems to irritate Simran’s mother quite a bit. “I don’t need lessons on parenting from you. She’s my daughter—”
“And you will lose her!” her masi shouts. “Just like you lost me.”
Silence. They glare at each other, more openly than ever. Simran glances between them. The awkwardness is gone. Maybe this is what was always underneath.
“I lost you?” Simran’s mom says quietly. “You left.”
“Because you are infuriating,” Simran’s masi seethes. “You’re stubborn and smothering and you believe what you say is right and there’s no other way—”
Simran’s mom makes an unimpressed sound. “So I’m a terrible mother, am I?”
“No! That’s the thing!” Her voice is heated.
This conversation is definitely not just about Simran anymore.
“If you were completely terrible, it’d be easy for Simran to walk away.
But you’ve devoted your life to making hers better, you’d cut off your arm for her without a second thought—and look at the girl you’ve raised Simran to be.
Clearly you’re doing something right. But you’re also doing something wrong.
You think it’s a coincidence Kiran and I both left you? ”
“Whoomp, there it is,” Kiran mumbles into her bowl.
Simran’s mother looks at Simran. Her anger has faltered. In her brown eyes, the same ones Simran sees in the mirror every morning, there’s fear. Real fear.
Simran wonders what would happen if she said, Yes, you will lose me, too. If that would break her.
But she’s done with threats. What kind of healthy relationship can come out of an ultimatum? Tiredly, she takes another step toward the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
Her mother speaks again, softly. “You’re making a mistake with him. And you’ll have to live with it forever.”
Simran pauses again.
She knows what some people would say. Follow your heart, not your parents.
But that makes it seem so simple. As if her parents won’t always influence her heart.
They are, after all, a part of it. And everything her mom has ever done, including this, has come from a place of love.
A misguided love, maybe. An overwhelming love that she lacks the words to explain in all its complexity. But love. Simran’s never doubted that.
However, they’re arguing two fundamentally different debates. To her mother, stability is happiness. And Rajan is the opposite of stability. He’s a risk; he said it himself.
But, in a different way her mother doesn’t understand, he is stability.
He is a shelter in the storm. A reliable comfort even on bad days.
A listening ear whenever she needs it. He is stability.
..to her soul. And when she almost lost him last night, she felt a part of herself drift, the same as when she first heard her mom’s diagnosis.
She doesn’t want to lose either of them.
But that’s not up to her, is it?
“You’re right,” Simran says finally, and her mother exhales, at least until Simran goes on.
“For the rest of my life, I have to live with my choices. I know you’re pushing me away because you’re trying to stop me from making a mistake.
You think I’ll regret this and he’ll break my heart.
I don’t know how I’ll feel in ten years, Mom, but I know that if I don’t go see Rajan right now, I’ll regret it.
And the only one breaking my heart right now is you. ”
Without waiting for a reaction, she pushes out the door.