Chapter Fifteen Simi
Fifteen
Simi
You okay?” my sister asks, coming up to me as I mix formula into bottles.
“Peachy,” I say. I can’t get the measures wrong. The girls have sensitive stomachs, and the right blend of two formula brands keeps them from getting gassy.
I take the three bottles to the quilt, where the girls are eagerly waiting for me, and hand them each a bottle. They roll over and start to feed themselves.
I’ve been here by myself for the past hour while my sister was being fawned over in the kitchen. The rest of the party is with Prem’s father.
If you asked anyone in the house to take a head count, every single one of them would skip me. I don’t exist. Except maybe for TASha and Prem.
I smile sweetly at Rupi and hope like hell that no one can see the steam coming out of my ears.
“Are you going to be this pissy for the entirety of the next two years?” my sister asks, and I want to shake her.
How can she be so comfortable, no, downright heartless, about this?
I’m still in shock that this is going to go on for two years.
I don’t think I can get through this if she’s going to be so mean about it.
And I don’t feel like I can give her a free pass for having a defense mechanism anymore.
“At least I have reason to be pissy. You’re being pissy when everything is going your way. ”
“Going my way?” she says with an incredulous laugh.
“You’re right. This is what I’ve wanted all my life.
” She throws a look at the beautifully carved mantel.
“All this delicious normalcy. Like a damn Karan Johar film! In fact, shut up and let me enjoy it for a moment.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep, mocking breath.
I want to strangle her with one of the silk ties holding back the drapes. “What is it that you actually want, Rupi? What is it that you’ve wanted all your life?” I ask with some exasperation. “Do you even know?”
She looks taken aback, and my heart twists.
Then she does what she always does: She laughs as though I’ve asked her to eat cake if she’s starving.
“Honestly? Your safety, and mine. In that order. I haven’t thought about much more than wanting to survive.
It must be nice to have the luxury to sit around, thinking about what you want from life.
” She presses a finger to her temple and gets all dramatic.
“Who am I? Why am I on this earth? Let me figure out my purpose while everyone around me takes care of me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You think?”
I hate that shame fills me. I want to apologize.
Shanya gets to almost the end of her bottle, tosses it away, and rolls over, ready to crawl off and explore the world.
I roll her back and put the bottle back in her mouth. She likes me to feed her the last bit and chugs away with satisfaction. The look she throws me over her bottle is the best thing that’s happened to me today.
“That was her plan all along, wasn’t it?” my sister asks, studying Shanya.
“It’s her routine, yes.”
“That’s strange.” Something in her eyes softens. For the first time since she got here, I see the sister who raised me. “You did that too. You liked me to coax you to finish up the last bit.”
I look at Anya. “That is strange. Anya needs me to put a hand on her forehead so she can fall asleep. Just the way you used to do for me.”
That seems to shake her. “You know you just work for these girls, right?” she says. “If you’re not careful, it’s going to hurt like a bitch when they don’t need you anymore.”
“The way it hurt when I left.”
“Stop being an idiot. You’re my blood. It’s not the same thing.” She strokes the flames on her forearm, her restlessness leashed in that action I haven’t seen in so long. “How do you even tell them apart? They look exactly the same.”
I stroke Shanya’s cheek. She’s not just someone I work for. She’s Shanya, Prem’s niece. I’m going to be her aunt someday.
“Actually they look completely different to me and have entirely different personalities,” I say. “Tanya is my focused doer. Shanya is the peaceful one, satisfied and happy to be taken care of. Anya is the explorer, always seeking what isn’t easily available.”
Sure enough Anya finishes her bottle, tosses it as far as she can, and heads to Tanya. I reach over with one hand and grab her before she grabs Tanya’s bottle.
“Another routine?” Rupi asks, but a grudging smile slips into her eyes. “I actually like this feisty one.”
The feisty one screams to be let go.
“I’ll put you down if you go get me the blocks,” I say into Anya’s ear.
She crawls away at record speed.
“Did they name the girls in their sleep?” Rupi says, watching them. “This might be the laziest naming of children I’ve ever seen.”
“Like Rupi and Simi are any better,” I say a little too defensively. “Our names aren’t even full names, they’re just parts of names.”
“Well, if Mom was anything, she was disinterested in anything to do with us. But the hot doc and Preeti seem to be like those parents in commercials. I would expect more care. Anya, Tanya, Shanya sounds like they could only bother with one name and then just rhyme.”
I’ve had this exact same thought, but it didn’t sound so unkind in my head. “They are. Dr. Johnson and Preeti are model parents.” The kind of parents these beautiful girls deserve. The kind of parents we deserved.
“Dr. Johnson?” Rupi says. “The man is called John Johnson? Maybe lazy naming is a family tradition.”
I want to smile, but my face refuses.
Prem walks into the room, his mom, Chandni, and Preeti trailing right behind. “Ready?” he says.
Preeti’s been avoiding meeting my eyes.
Her brother, on the other hand, can’t be looking at me like this. I’m also only surviving this because he is.
Rupi stands, and Prem’s mom squeezes her arm.
“Auntie and Prem want to show me our room,” Rupi says, sounding so demure I’m caught between laughing and throwing up.
Our room.
I press a hand to my chest, where the words pierce like a poisoned spear. “That’s just lovely,” I say. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here with the girls.”
“Rupi wants you to be there. That’s why she came to get you,” Chandni says. “I can watch the girls. I haven’t had TASha time in too long.” She joins them on the quilt, and they head toward her with glee.
“You saw them yesterday,” Preeti says, not the slightest complaint in her voice. “You go with your sister, Simi. John must be poking and prodding Baba and lecturing him about his physical therapy. It’s time for a rescue mission.”
Rupi may never have had the time to think about what she wanted from life. But this is all I’ve ever wanted: this kind of “delicious normalcy” that I only ever saw on the TV screen that was our sustenance growing up. I dreamed every night of those families, with me inside them, part of them.
Since meeting Prem, I’ve worked hard to not think about how close I am to the reality of it. Only now I’m not.
“Come on, Simi,” Prem says, and I hope no one else hears what I hear in his tone. Exhaustion. Exhaustion my entire being echoes.
“Will Rupi be moving here with you?” I ask, unable to help myself.
He looks like I just sliced another knife into him.
“That is the way we’ve done it in our family for generations.
Sons bring daughters-in-law into the home,” Prem’s mother says.
“It’s natural for you to be anxious that your sister will be living with her in-laws.
It’s become such an old-fashioned thing to do these days.
But don’t worry, we do it in a very modern way.
We’ll take very good care of her. Ask Chandni, it’s not all torture. ”
“Oh, is that what you want me to tell her?” Chandni says to her mother-in-law. “I am very happy,” she says in the most robotic tone, as though she’s being forced, but her eyes are twinkling with laughter.
“Blink twice if you need help,” Preeti says, laughing.
“I love living here. There’s always company in the house, but there’s also a lot of space and freedom. We try to have dinners together as a family, and honestly we end up hanging out a lot, but often I’m too busy to see anyone all day. I get ample time for my art.”
“And ample raw material,” Preeti mumbles.
Chandni makes a face at her, but her eyes are still laughing. “You better believe it,” she says. “This family sheds hair like golden retrievers.”
Rupi looks confused.
“And obviously, caring for Pankaj after the stroke is entirely different with a full house,” Prem’s mom says.
“For the first few weeks, all three kids were here, but then it was just me and Prem.” His mother looks at Prem like the sun shines out of him, and I work hard not to tear up.
“Now with a full house, Pankaj always has company. I can leave the house when I want because there’s always a family member here with him, and we don’t have to leave him alone with his caregivers.
All his life Pankaj did nothing but care for us. This is the least we can do.”
Tears spill from Prem’s eyes. I want to go to him, but I throw Rupi a look, and she places a hand on his shoulder and pats him like he’s a puppy.
Which ends up looking like she’s being strong for him. Great!
The family beams approvingly through their tears.
“It actually works wonderfully,” Chandni says.
“My sons, Neel and Nathan, always have someone to drive them around and help with homework. I’ve never needed childcare even though Pawan and I work full-time at Dominic’s.
” She squeezes Rupi’s arm. “Rupi, I think you’ll really like it here.
Khichdi whenever you want it.” She winks.
My heart is racing. I can’t think of a single thing worse than having to survive my sister living in this house. Now is the time to say something. To stop this.
“Let’s do it! Let’s show you your room,” Prem’s mom says.
Rupi will be sharing a room with Prem. Of course she will. The reality of this is way worse than I could have imagined.