Chapter 32
Karan
“You seem happier, man.”
I nod to Ajay with a smile, shifting the wooden logs I’m carrying to equalize the load between both arms. Rachel and I have been back since earlier this morning, and already, I can tell every member of my family wants to ambush me for details.
“Yeah, I think so.”
A gust of cold wind blows through Ajay’s shaggy hair. He winces and nearly missteps into the snow. With his frame being much smaller than mine, the fact that he’s somehow trying to one-up me in the number of wooden logs he’s carrying is a bit ridiculous.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I warn him. “Why don’t you set a few of those down?”
We’ve barely walked ten feet away from the woodshed; he’s not going to make it inside the cabin at this rate.
“Nah, I’m good.”
As if the universe was listening for those exact words, Ajay suddenly plummets, face-first into the snow.
“You still good?” I put my logs down and offer him a hand, which he takes with an embarrassed smirk.
“Can you pretend this never happened?” Without a beat to take a break, he leans back over to pick up the logs he dropped.
“Only if you stop trying to impress me for whatever dumb reason.” I shrug and pick up my own logs with a chuckle.
“Are you laughing at me?” Ajay asks, a look of shock painted on his face.
“Oh. No. Sorry.” I rub the back of my neck with another nervous chuckle. “I’m a little bit on edge.”
“Oh?” He stops mid-motion and straightens back up without picking up more wood. “So, which is it, man? You happy, or you nervous?”
“What, I can’t be both?” I raise an eyebrow at my cousin, who, I’ve got to remember, is much, much younger than I am.
And much more immature, as young men tend to be.
“So, did it go well or not with Rachel?”
There it is. I knew he’d been itching to ask me that question since Rachel and I came back. He’s been circling around me all day, looking for an opportunity to corner me. I should have known something was up when he offered to help me bring firewood inside.
I look around to make sure we’re alone. There’s nothing around us but snow and trees, no souls separating us from the frozen expanse of the sea. I sigh, resigning myself. I might as well share now and get Ajay off my back so that I can fully focus on being there for my wife.
I drop my logs again and take an awkward seat on my pile.
“It went well,” I start.
When Ajay realizes I’m going to share, he also takes a seat on his own pile of wood. Might as well get semi-comfortable instead of standing stiffly in the snow.
“But it’s far from over.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m definitely hopeful we can work through this, though.”
That’s the truth. A new ember has been lit inside my chest ever since Rachel and I fell asleep in each other’s arms that first night. She’s coming back to me. At least, she wants to.
My wife is no longer out of my reach.
“She agreed to couple’s therapy, for one thing.”
“Oh, it’s that bad, is it?”
“There’s no shame in going to therapy, man. We would probably be in better shape if we’d gone before it got this bad.”
Ajay looks sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Yeah, no worries.” I pause for a moment, letting air slowly escape through my pursed lips. “It’s the stuff with my job I’m more nervous about.”
“Your job?”
“Rachel made it crystal clear that I can’t keep working as much as I have.” I lean against my knees and clasp my hands together. “So, the first thing I have to do when I’m back in the city is to tell my boss I won’t be doing any more overtime.”
The idea of having that conversation alone brings on a wave of nausea.
I’ve never gone against an authority figure. Ever. The thought of it alone sends me right back to those moments, when I was small, where my father struck me down with pointed words and a terrifying booming voice.
“Uh…” Ajay’s face scrunches up in an air of confusion. “That’s it? No more overtime? Isn’t that… I don’t know, reasonable?”
“It absolutely is.”
At least, it should be. I understand how much this job—and the ridiculous hours I’ve been sinking into it—is piling way too much on Rachel’s shoulders. But the idea of going directly against what my boss wants from me elicits a quiet terror that gnaws at me from the inside.
Still. That terror is overshadowed by the love I have for my wife—and the hope that we’re going to mend what we have.
“It’s just…” I look up at Ajay.
Will he understand what I’m going through?
Both his parents are Indian, and Auntie Anjali has so much in common with my father, but not only is she much younger, she also has a completely different relationship with her parents.
As their youngest daughter, she simply wasn’t treated the same as my father.
Suresh is also much, much more chill as a father than my own. While he and Auntie do have strong ties to our culture and traditions, they seem to have raised Ajay and Aisha with a lot less pressure than I was forced to endure.
That, and Ajay is so young. He doesn’t have kids. Hell, I’d be surprised if he had a real savings account. How will his attitude change once he has a family to support?
“I have a lot riding on this job,” I finally continue. “The pay is great, but if I refuse to do overtime and stick to doing what’s in my job description, I know what’s going to happen.”
My heart speeds up, thumping against my ribs like a rave.
“I’ll stay stuck where I am. When a team needs a new lead, I’ll get passed over for someone who was willing to give a hundred and ten percent to this company.”
“If the pay is great, isn’t that enough?”
I drop my face in my hands. “Ugh. I don’t know. I… my boys…”
Cayce and Corey’s sweet faces appear in my mind. Who knows what life will look like when they’re old enough to head off to college? To buy a home?
The idea of disappointing them in any way—of not giving them every possible advantage to thrive and live their best possible lives in this fucked up world—has me staring into a dark abyss, about to teeter over the edge.
The only reason I was able to move to the city and attend the CEGEP and university I wanted was because I worked my ass off in high school.
My father made it clear to me that he would help me pay my way and contribute in any way he could, but rent in the city is expensive.
While he had that covered, I had to pay the rest.
I don’t want Cayce and Corey to have to work that hard. Not if I can help it.
But maybe I can’t.
“For what it’s worth, Karan, these boys worship you.” I don’t notice Ajay standing until he places a hand on my shoulder. “Do you know how many stories about you I sat through while you and Rachel were gone?”
I lift my head with furrowed brows. “Oh?”“Too damn many.” Ajay laughs. “You’re their hero, man. So, maybe I’m not a dad, but from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re doing a hell of a good job.”
“Well. We’ll see in ten years, won’t we?” I stand and start picking up the wood again. “Until then, we need to get this inside before the fire dies.”
Ten minutes later, we’ve placed our logs in a neat pile next to the woodstove indoors. While Ajay is off helping Auntie Anjali with the dishes from breakfast, I kneel next to the firestove and start carefully stacking logs inside.
The sound of Rachel’s footsteps resonates in my ears, and I can’t help the smile that possesses my lips.
“Hey.”
She kneels next to me, bringing with her the scent of strawberries and lifting my mood instantly.
“So, I noticed something, and I know your mom.” She’s whispering. “There’s a lasagna on the counter.”
“Okay?” I place another log inside the stove, concentrating on placing it in the optimal position.
“I think it stayed there all night. It looks like your mom’s lasagna.” I hum to let her know I’m still listening. “She probably let it cool overnight or something, despite me warning her countless times about leaving food out like this.”
“Uh-huh?” My log falls, so I grab the fire poker to play around with it.
“Karan.” Rachel’s hand on my forearm pulls me out of my focus, and I look into her eyes. “I don’t give a shit if anyone else feels comfortable eating that lasagna, but I just want to make sure she doesn’t try to feed it to the boys for lunch. Okay?”
“Oh. Yeah, okay.” I kiss Rachel’s forehead, putting the new to-do at the forefront of my mind. “I’ll talk to her, okay?”
Rachel gives me a small smile. “Okay. Great.”
I don’t waste any time once I’ve filled up the fire stove to my liking and go looking for Mom. She’s at the table with Dad, holding his hand and nursing a steaming mug of coffee. Dad’s got his nose in a newspaper while Mom is bent over a jigsaw puzzle.
“Need help with that?” I ask as I sit to Mom’s left and pick up a piece of the puzzle.
She looks up at me with a sweet smile. “You know I’ll never say no to that.”
For a few moments, we don’t talk, instead focusing on the puzzle. After successfully placing a third piece, I look at my parents’ clasped hands.
My heart leaps to my throat at the way my father’s thumb gently strokes Mom’s palm. So many years together—so many challenges they’ve had to overcome, thrown at them by the hands of time—and they’re still so very much in love.
They made it work. From what Mom has told me, it was far from easy in the beginning of their relationship.
Her aunt, her only remaining living family, absolutely abhorred the idea of her niece dating an Indian immigrant.
Dad did everything right, showering her aunt with respect and gifts, proving to her that he could provide for her niece, but she could never stop seeing him as an Other.
If the two of them made it work with the world rooting against them, there’s no reason Rachel and I can’t repair what we have. No reason at all.
But I didn’t come to the table to admire my parents’ showcase of love.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, breaking our peaceful silence.
Mom hums in response without looking up from the puzzle, her brows furrowed in concentration.
“Mom, it’s actually important.”
She lifts her head. Even Dad peers at me from his newspaper for an instant. “What’s up, sweetie?” she asks.
I point to the counter, where the lasagna still sits. “Did that stay on the counter all night?”
“Yes, I was letting it cool down,” Mom explains, frowning. “Is that your thing that’s actually important?”
My mouth goes dry, and my tongue is suddenly too large for my mouth. Dad’s pointed gaze makes my heart beat faster.
“Mom. You can’t do that. It’ll have gone bad now.” I don’t sound as self-assured as I wish I did.
Mom sighs. “Karan, it’s actually fine. I had to let it sit overnight because it was way too hot to put in the fridge before I went to bed.”
“Why?”
“It’ll go sour if you cover it up while it’s still hot,” she explains, confidently. “So it’s actually less dangerous to leave it on the counter and put it in the fridge after. Speaking of which, I should go do that.”
She stands.
“Are you sure about that?”
She certainly sounds sure of herself. And she’s been handling food for decades…
Mom pats my shoulder. “Plus, it’s vegetarian. It’s totally fine, I promise you, sweetie.”
She heads off to the counter to put the lasagna away, and I’m left at the table with Dad, dumbstruck.
I lean back against my chair. I’ll admit that I’m not the biggest expert on food safety. But Mom has been cooking her entire life. I grew up on her and Dad’s food, and not once did I get sick from eating something either of them made.
She’s probably right, then.
It’s going to be fine.