Chapter 23
Rachel
As the family disperses after lunch, Martine pulls me aside with a concerned look that immediately makes my stomach churn.
“I was hoping I could talk to you,” she says.
I’m watching the twins as they race around the snow with Surinder, Jocelyne, and the cousins.
They didn’t waste a second getting dressed to go back outside after lunch.
Their laughter echoes through the windows, and it almost makes me want to join them instead of facing whatever Martine has in store for me.
“Uh, sure,” I say, trying to sound less reluctant than I actually am.
The sound fades as I follow her upstairs towards the bedrooms, my pulse a deafening metronome in my ears.
Martine holds the door to her bedroom open for me and gestures with an open palm, like she’s inviting me to enter a therapist’s office instead of a small guest bedroom with no seating except for a bed.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” she asks as I walk past her.
Her voice is softer now, but I know better than to be fooled by it.
I plaster on another smile. “Yeah! Absolutely! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know …” She draws out the words and plays with her salmon-coloured headscarf. “Well, I do know, but I didn’t want to say anything at first.”
She sits on the bed and taps the spot next to hers in an invitation.
An invitation I really don’t want to take.
But I promised myself I wouldn’t rock the boat while I was here, so I sit. And I try to remember that once upon a time, this woman and I were closer than I’ve ever been with my own mother.
“It’s just that…” Martine pinches her lips. “Well, you seemed a bit distant today.”
“Did I?”
I know I did.
“Is everything all right with you and Karan?”
“Yes, everything’s fine.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“You know…” She looks towards the door, as if she’s worried someone might walk in and overhear. “Karan is a bit like his father.”
I think about how Karan’s helping with the dishes, and how I doubt Surinder even knows how to turn the dishwasher on.
I keep this thought to myself.
“Oh?”
“Yes. He can be such a workaholic sometimes!” She laughs a little, shaking her head like she’s just said something charming and self-deprecating. “It can be difficult to find time together when he’s so focused on other things.”
“Yeah, it is difficult.”
Martine squeezes my hand. “But after thirty five years of marriage, I’ll tell you this… sometimes you have to compromise.”
I take a deep breath to resist the urge to pull my hand away. Or scream.
“I know.”
“Especially in interracial families who come from different cultures. It’s all about understanding each other’s needs.
I remember how hard it was to make our lives fit at first, but compromise led us where we are today.
One of those compromises was accepting his need to be a provider.
And him being a provider also meant his work was important. ”
I want to roll my eyes. Martine may be Québécoise like me, but from what I know of her family, they were a lot more traditional than your average Québécois family. She was all too happy to be the nurturing homemaker who submits to her husband and his parents. She was all too happy to get married.
It wasn’t the same for me. I didn’t care either way about marriage, like many Québécois.
We got married because Karan proposed. And I happily went along with his parents’ plan for a hybrid Québécois-Hindu ceremony because I love all sides of Karan, and had no special attachment to the white wedding dress so many North American women dream of.
All that mattered was that I married the love of my life, so I was all too glad to adorn the beautiful red and gold Lehenga.
But Karan was never the work-obsessed man he is today. That man was born from the parental pressures Martine and Surinder have put him under. He’s not the man I married.
Or was he always there somewhere, hidden underneath the surface?
“Women these days have so much to deal with,” Martine continues. “So many expectations. It’s like society expects you to take on the role of husband and wife.”
She smiles with her teeth, causing me to brace myself for the blow I knew was coming next.
“Have you considered… quitting your job?”
My jaw falls to the floor.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, don’t look so offended. It was only a suggestion.”
Martine thinking that me quitting my job would fix everything is laughable. No matter how many times I’ve lovingly talked about my work during family dinners, she and Surinder just don’t seem to get it.
I became a pharmacist because I want to help people. Because my brain is wired in a way that makes it easy for me to do this work. Plus, Karan and I make almost exactly the same salary. Me quitting my job would halve our income.
And how would I support my little sister then?
“Yeah, no, I’m definitely keeping my job, Martine.”
“In that case, you just need to be patient, sweetie. Karan will come around if you give him the support he needs.”
I’m not going to argue about the fact that I’ve been giving Karan all the support he needs to thrive at his stupid job. I’m the one who’s been holding down the fort. The one who’s been taking time off work to pick up our sons when they have a bad day at school.
Instead, I grit out, “Yeah.”
I stand from the bed, sick to my stomach.
“I’m gonna go lie down for a bit, okay? I think I ate a bit too much.”
Martine stands with me and pulls me into a hug. “Of course, sweetie. Take care of yourself, too. It’s all good.”
I stumble out of the room and go straight to mine, then let myself collapse on the unmade double bed. The air is thick and heavy. I let out a shaky sigh and hope Martine doesn’t hear me through my door.
Her voice still resonates in my head, almost like she’s right next to me still. I turn on my back and grab my phone from my pocket to start scrolling through social media to distract myself.
Martine came right out with it, didn’t she?
She might as well have told me I should try harder and that it’s all my fault.
The weight of her words sit on my chest. I don’t always see eye to eye with my mother-in-law, especially since the birth of the twins, but she never, ever gave me the impression I wasn’t good enough for her son.
Until now.
I slam my eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.
I hate that she’s making me feel like this.
Fuck.
Thoughts of my own mother swirl in my head. Even before she and my father began their outright emotional abuse of my sister, which eventually escalated to physical abuse, they were never really a safe place for us. I always had the feeling that their love was conditional on my success.
I just never understood how true that was until Océane failed to achieve the level of success Will and I did.
Martine, despite all her flaws, always made me feel like I deserved to be loved no matter what.
Maybe I’m overthinking this. What I really need right now is to talk this out.
I dial Sophie’s number, and she picks up on the second ring.
“Hey!” she calls out in her bright, familiar voice.
“Sophie,” I say, my voice sounding small and desperate.
“Rachel, you okay?”
A rush of gratitude pours through my veins like warm water.
“No.”
I mean it to come out as a joke, but it sounds too raw.
“Hey, what happened?” The concern in her tone is immediate.
This woman has been in life for only just over a year, but I cherish her so much.
“It’s just…” I start, but my voice threatens to unravel. “It’s been a day.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Yeah.”
Without hesitation, I spew out everything that’s happened over the last few days. Karan joining us late. The desperation that’s been hanging out in my bones. Today’s confrontation with Karan—and Martine.
“Wow,” Sophie breathes out. “The audacity of that woman.”
“She means well,” I say, immediately jumping to Martine’s defense and hating myself a bit for it.
Why do I always do that? Why do I always downplay my emotions when it comes to Karan’s family?
“But I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.”
“Whether she means well or not, your relationship with her son is none of her damn business. Seriously, if I ever become that kind of boy mom with Julian, just go ahead and shoot me.” Sophie takes a deep breath.
“But I’m getting ahead of myself. What do you mean, how long you can keep doing this? You mean staying at the chalet?”
“I mean, my marriage.”
Sophie falls quiet.
The tears I’ve been holding back start to fall, thick and hot against my cold cheeks.
“Karan says he wants to do better, but I’ve been asking him to do better for nearly a year now, and nothing. What if the guy I married isn’t there anymore? What if we’re too different? I just…” I look up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. “I’m so tired.”
“Rachel,” Sophie whispers. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“I didn’t either.” I press my hand to my mouth, like I can take the words back. “But it is. I think about it all the time.”
“It?”
I swallow hard. “Divorce.”
“Oh, Rachel.” Sophie lets out a long breath, and more tears come flooding out of me.
“It sounds crazy, right?” I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand. “I never in a million years thought I’d ever say that word.”
Not about Karan and me.
“You don’t sound crazy,” Sophie reassures me. “You sound like you’re in pain. And listen, I’m not going to tell you divorce is the way to go, because it’s some serious shit, but please know that I’m on your team, and I’m here for you.”
“What is Will going to think?”
He’s so close with Karan. He’d be losing a brother.
“Fuck what he thinks.” She chuckles. “Well, not really. I love him and all, blah, blah, blah, but you shouldn’t base your life decisions on what your brother thinks. And if you do, I’m going to throttle you.”