Chapter Fifteen Simi #2
I don’t know how I make my way up the curving staircase behind the three of them, every step adding more deadweight to my body.
A huge open space lined with built-in shelves and big leather couches greets us. A massive TV screen hangs on one wall.
“This is the TV room,” Prem says. “It’s where we used to do movie Sundays. Now we just do them in Mamma and Baba’s room, so Baba can be comfortable.” He’s talking directly to me.
Rupi clears her throat, and he turns to her as though she’s holding a gun to his head.
The walls are lined with photographs. Each one of the kids posing alone at every age and an endless number of family pictures with all of them posing together.
The phrase “delicious normalcy” starts to play inside my head in an endless loop.
Delicious normalcy.
Delicious normalcy.
Delicious normalcy.
My sister watches me as though the chant is playing in her head as well.
She did refuse to come up here and see the room without me. She thought about me without even trying to think about me, which is such a Rupi move, it makes everything worse.
Prem’s mom keeps a running commentary going for every picture. “Prem was in fifth grade here . . . This is our trip to Yosemite National Park when Prem got lost in the visitor center . . . This is Prem going out on his first pizza delivery . . .”
Rupi is giving a masterful performance of listening with full focus.
Prem’s eyes keep straying to me. His mom hasn’t noticed, because her focus is entirely on Rupi.
I feel his gaze boring into me. I feel sadness come off him in waves.
This was important to him: my first time in his home, sharing his childhood and life.
It was important to me too. I saved it up like a special treat I wanted to unwrap only when the time was right.
I waited too long, and the treat spoiled before I got to it.
“And this is Prem’s and your room,” Tanuja says in the tone usually accompanied by drumrolls. She’s still looking at Rupi. Prem is still looking at me.
Rupi grabs my hand. “I’m so excited,” she says, pulling me along. She pushes me and Prem in front of her and into the room together.
Tanuja is behind Rupi and can’t see Prem squeezing my hand like a drowning man as we cross the threshold.
Once we’re inside, I pull away.
Prem doesn’t let go easily.
The room is steeped in one of my favorite smells.
Prem. Soapy and sudsy like his cologne, and I have to admit, the slightest undertone of cheesy pizza dough.
The bed is covered in a thick midnight blue quilt.
Midnight blue pillows, a midnight blue rug, a midnight blue accent wall, and dark-cherry furniture.
It’s him, but his family’s version of him. Prince Prem, the youngest.
Who’s bringing home a princess. Who will be sharing his bed. Will she? There’s a couch by a bay window. In the soap operas we grew up on, if there was a couch in a married couple’s room, one of them was going to be sleeping on it. They always made up. They always got together in the end.
My gaze goes to the throw wrapped around the base of his bed.
A gray-and-maroon crocheted throw that doesn’t match anything.
I made it for him last Christmas because he told me that his family had always done Christmas gifts under a Christmas tree.
Their family’s way of making the children feel like they belonged here.
“There’s an en suite bathroom in all four master bedrooms,” Tanuja says.
“We custom built the house and made sure all three kids would always have a place to stay. So what if Preeti and John don’t live here?
So what if daughters, unlike sons, are supposed to move out after marriage?
This is her home too. We don’t treat our daughter any different than our son. ”
This family is almost like a family someone might design to make someone with no family feel like shit. They’re everything Rupi and I missed out on wrapped up in gold brocade with a diamond cherry on top.
Tanuja takes Rupi into the bathroom. Prem looks at me as though he wants to throw me on that bed and hold me for the rest of his life.
“You use the throw,” I say.
“Of course I do. It’s the most precious thing to me in this house. I love you, Simi.”
I shush him. “Don’t,” I say. “She’ll hear you.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and leans his head back. He doesn’t argue or tell me he doesn’t care.
Is that what I want him to do?
I can hear Rupi asking all sorts of questions. She’s keeping Prem’s mom in the bathroom as long as she can. Prem and I stand there and gaze at each other. I want to kiss him. I want to say thank you and sorry and why did you agree to this? But I just stand there.
He steps closer and reaches for me, his hand going to the nape of my neck and bringing me to him, just as the two of them come out of the bathroom.
We pull apart so fast, Prem spins around and stumbles into the desk.
My heart feels like it might have stopped beating.
His mother has eyes only for Rupi, who’s doing a great job blocking her view. “So, Rupi, beta, what do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. The room, the whole house, it’s better than any place I’ve ever lived in.”
There’s an odd note in my sister’s voice, and I search her face for buried scorn.
I find none. My god, Prem’s mom is not the only one with stars in her eyes. Rupi actually likes Prem’s mother too.
“It’s your home now,” Tanuja says.
It’s almost bizarre how lovely Tanuja is. Usually a person like that would freak Rupi out, but she’s looking like she’s found proof that Santa Claus exists.
A chill runs down my spine.
“Actually, since we’ve just met you and we’re having to rush into the wedding, why don’t you just move in now? We have a guest bedroom, and we can all get to know each other.”
Prem knocks over a picture frame. I save it before it crashes to the ground.
“That’s really nice of you,” Rupi says, so calmly I want to shake her. “But it’s been a long time since my sister and I have seen each other. I was hoping to live with her for a little while.”
Prem’s mother seems to notice me for the first time. “Doesn’t Simi live right here in town? She’s always welcome to come and stay in the house whenever she wants. Simi, you know this is going to be your sister’s home and you are welcome here anytime, correct?”
“Thank you,” I say. “That’s very generous of you.”
She pats my cheek and studies me for a long while. Prem has her eyes, alight with kindness and love. For no reason at all my heart fills with hope. She sees something in my face. She knows.
Suddenly her eyes brighten even more. “You’re such a pretty girl. Are you single?”
“Ma!” Prem says.
“Umm,” I say. “I’m not married.”
“Perfect,” she says and rubs her hands together. “I think I know just the boy for you. He’ll be at the triplets’ birthday party. I think I have a plan to make you even more part of the family.”