Chapter 8
The thought of her father made her pause, and remain in that pause. For the first time in a long time, Aditi did not want to open the door just yet.
“Aara!” Zubin’s loud holler permeated the thick door. Loud giggles went louder, then softer as she must have passed the lobby after some antisocial trick she had pulled on her father.
“You are so done, so so done!”
“Bar-bie-House! Bar-bie… aaaah!”
Loud giggles were now bracketed with louder laughter.
Aditi clutched her keys tighter. Zubin’s words had not stopped reverberating in her ears ever since he had blurted them out loud in court.
She wasn’t an overly sentimental or even an emotional person.
Then why did they refuse to go? Clearly, they weren’t true. They had so much between them.
Didn’t they?
This second-guessing had never been in her nature.
Then why was she suddenly not sure about it?
Aditi slotted the key into the door, turned it, and quickly crossed the threshold of her house. The more she thought about it, the more she would keep second-guessing. It wasn’t true. It was a slip of the tongue. It was…
“Mammaaaa! Heeeeelp!”
Aditi glanced up from stepping out of her pumps, only to find Aara sitting on the top of the highest cabinet of the hall, Zubin standing under her, holding her with one hand, grinning.
“What is happening here?”
“Papa thought-ed he was punishing me…” Aara held her arms out and pretended to fall off but Zubin’s hand was right there, straightening her back. Which made her grin that impish little smile down at him. “Stay!” He ordered her, laughing through whatever had annoyed him.
Aditi set her bags down on the dining table and walked up to them. “Why was Papa punishing you?”
“He thought-ed he was punishing me.”
“Yes, why did he thought-ed he was punishing you?”
“Because he can’t…” she held her arms out again, ready to tip.
“Aara,” he warned, then plucked her down from the cabinet and set her on her feet.
She immediately clung to his leg. Zubin rolled his eyes.
“Can’t even punish her. I said no iPad and she switched on the TV.
I said no TV and she was rooting for my mobile.
I said no screen and gave her a time-out and she was dancing to herself in the corner, enjoying that too. ”
Aditi held back her laugh, glaring down at their daughter — “What did you do to earn this?”
Her tiny lips pursed in another one of those elusive smiles as she hung down from Zubin’s leg like it was a pole.
“Mmm?” Aditi stressed, not ready to talk to Zubin one-on-one yet.
He clearly was. “She stuck every available Barbie thing she owns in our bathroom and laid pink glitter things on the floor.”
Aditi’s eyes widened. It was funny, and also a pain. She didn’t have the energy to clean it up.
“After I cleaned it up and collected the confetti in one corner of the bedroom…”
Aditi breathed a silent sigh of relief. No cleanup.
“She put on the fan and ran.”
“Is the room cleaned up?” Aditi quirked her brow at her daughter, indirectly asking the father.
“That’s next on my agenda of punishments.” Zubin caught Aara and set her back down on her feet. He pulled out the small broom they had invested in for this express purpose from the supplies cabinet and handed it to her. “If you do it one more time, you are on broom work for the rest of the week.”
Aara took it, blinking those long lashes up at her father— “What will Savita Didi do then?”
Zubin flashed a smile at her — “Enjoy a holiday.”
“But she has to earn, no?”
Zubin returned her concerned tone — “Don’t worry, I will make sure she earns. Come on.”
“Mamaaa yaar…” Aara tried to whine to her but Aditi stepped back — “What Papa said.” She pointed to their bedroom. “Clean up, then we will talk about this behaviour.”
“I just wanted a Bar-bie House…” she held the broom over her shoulder like a true labourer. Aditi caught Zubin holding back a snort.
“You cannot make our bathroom into your Barbie House.”
“But Papa won’t get me!”
“And you have to accept when he says no. Or try to convince him, but in a way that is not troubling him. Alright?”
Aara’s lower lip jutted.
“Papa?” She asked adorably.
“Mmm?” He tried not to sound like he was melting. Aditi knew he was.
“Let’s cancel Barbie House.”
“Oh… kay? Good.”
“Then if I cancel Barbie House, can we go to Barbie World in Dubai?”
Aditi saw Zubin try very hard not to laugh. Their daughter was now mastering the art of negotiation, too.
“Barbie World is not open yet,” he pointed out, magically still holding onto his sternness.
Aara looked at her — “You said it will open before summer vacation.”
“I did,” Aditi said. “But it seems it’s delayed. And instead of negotiating, you need to say sorry for the mess you’ve made.”
“Sor…”
“Not to me, to Papa.”
“Sorrie, Papa…”
Zubin began to reach for her but Aditi cleared her throat. He stilled.
“Go and clean up first, then come and say sorry nicely. Show Papa the clean room and say sorry. Go.”
She began to move, then turned again, broom over her shoulder — “I got one more idea for Barbie House.”
“What’s that?”
“If you get a daivorce then Papa will have to get me a Barbie House!”
Aditi’s eyes bugged.
“Again with this daivorce thing…” Zubin muttered frustratedly but Aditi raised her voice to cover his — “Aara, there is no daivorce happening here.”
“Why?”
“You want Mumma and Papa to not talk to each other?”
“You are not talking to each other now,” she pointed.
And Aditi was left stunned at that deduction.
“And you can fool everyone! Say daivorce, then talk to each other at home. Nobody will know!” Their little girl grinned like she had cracked the biggest riddle of life.
“No,” Zubin interjected. “Mumma and I are not doing that. And gifts are like Nana said — you earn them. You asked me, I said no. You tried your Pink Panther tactics, they did not work. You have to think about ways to convince me that do not annoy me, like Mumma said. If you can’t come up with something good, then no. ”
Her lips puffed but she nodded, turned, tipped her broom higher on her shoulder and marched away.
They watched her go.
And then, when she was out of earshot, silence lingered in the hall. Aditi swallowed. In a room where Zubin existed, silence could not.
She began to walk into the kitchen when he held her wrist — “Aditi.”
“I am tired, not right now.”
“Doshi.” He came around and stood in front of her. She did not look at him, making mental notes about the deep cleaning for the corners and crevices of the hall behind him.
“Look here.” He cupped her cheek and bent his own head down. She still did not.
He pinched her cheek playfully after ages, and her eyes automatically whirled to him. He looked… devastated and still smiling.
Aditi sighed. “Zubin, I am exhausted today. You took care of Aara’s evening, please take care of the night too. Unless she needs me, I want to eat and sleep.”
The caressing pinch of his thumb and forefinger on her cheek turned softer. As did his eyes.
“I hear your bullshit to push me away and go cold on me, and maybe you are right because I had nothing but bullshit to talk today, so we let it go for now. Let’s eat and go to sleep. Aara is exhausted, I know she will sleep on time too.”
Aditi nodded and began to move when he trailed his hold from her cheek to the side of her throat. Her neck tightened.
“We are talking about this tomorrow, Aditi.”
“Fine.”
“And it’s not bad, it’s not what you thought at all, trust me.”
“Yeah, ok. Now let me go.”
“You don’t sound like you trust me.”
“Zubin, I said fine.”
“Say you trust me.”
“Enough!” She snapped. His hand lifted from her neck in the same instant as Aara came out of their bedroom, broom dragging behind her.
“What happened, Mumma?”
“Mumma didn’t want to eat my healthy food,” Zubin said, saving the moment. “Will you share?”
Aara made a face, then immediately perked up — “Will it make you happy?”
“Why?”
“If I eat qeenoa with you will you get me Barbie House?”
Zubin burst out chuckling — “Nice try.”
Aara just shrugged and went back to her cleaning. And Aditi went into the kitchen, not even looking up at Zubin.
————————————————————
Showered in hot water for far longer than her usual two minutes, and still just as messed and exhausted, Aditi trudged towards her bed. The cotton of her pyjamas felt warm on her skin and yet her skin felt cold. Was she falling sick? She shuddered.
She couldn’t afford to fall sick. A mother could never afford to fall sick, a lawyer in the middle of three ongoing cases with recurrent dates so quickly one after another, with one of them against Zubin Daruwala could absolutely not afford to fall sick.
Aditi still fell into bed like a dead log, pulling the duvet and closing her eyes.
The bed was empty, the room cleaned up after Aara had tried her best and Zubin had taken over.
He was now in her bedroom, doing bedtime with her.
And Aditi didn’t even worry about her. He would manage, like he always did.
He was a great father, just as good a partner.
Aditi had never had to feel bogged down with raising Aara.
With both their lives as hectic as they were, sometimes Zubin’s more because he was running around multiple courts across Mumbai and MMR area nowadays for his bigger clients’ RERA matters, the partnership was always equitable.
Some days he took the load, some days she did.
So what was wrong?
What was lacking for him to say that they didn’t have anything, not even fights?
Anger spiked. Because… something niggled inside her.
When was the last time they had something between them? Except their home and Aara and work talk? Aditi’s eyes snapped open, and found Zubin’s eyes on her. She recoiled — “What the…?!” She sat up. “When did you come?”
“When you were busy depleting the last of your brain cell energy for the day.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t bait me.”
“Or you will what?” He sat up too.
“Zubin, you agreed we would sleep and not talk tonight.”