Chapter Seventeen
He was hollow. Numb. Yesterday morning he had the most amazing woman by his side. Today she was gone.
Maybe his parents were right, she didn’t really understand what it was like to have a sick sibling—how much he was responsible for.
He couldn’t afford to be distracted. He was haunted by that day at the park, the sickening crack of Malini’s ankle as she fell from the monkey bars.
She’d never understood the limits imposed by her cancer. It had been up to him.
But he felt awful for the things he had said to Nimita. He hadn’t meant them to hurt her. Part of him wanted to apologize. Part of him wanted to explain.
He did neither.
It wouldn’t change anything. His parents were right. Nimita had distracted him from being there for Malini. She simply did not understand what it meant to take care of a sick family member. How hard it was to take risks.
Or did she? Nimita was the one who pushed her father into doing things that ended up making him happy. It was Reena always putting on the brakes.
Was he Reena?
He grabbed a T-shirt after freshening up and walked down to the kitchen to find Malini packing another box.
“Are you taking everything?” he called out.
“Everything that’s mine. That I bought with my own money from my full-time job. Is that a problem?” she said as she walked out and placed the box in the trunk of her car. He walked outside and peeked in the car. There were three more boxes in there.
Of course it wasn’t a problem. She could have whatever she wanted of his, too.
He needed coffee. He followed her back in. “So, everyone knew you’re moving, except for me.”
“I didn’t tell Nimita.” She eyed him like she knew something.
The sound of her name was jarring. He said nothing.
She continued, “As predicted, you did not take news of my move well. In fact you are probably scheming on how to get me back here right now.” She raised her eyebrows at his silence.
“I love you, Bhaiya. So much. But I need space. I just want to be on my own.”
“You only have one more year of tests, then—”
“Then I’ll be at the five-year milestone, I know, Bhaiya.
And obviously I want that. But also, what if my CBC comes back abnormal in three months or six?
” She said it so calmly, so matter of fact, but the words put his stomach in knots and made his heart ache.
She stared at him. “See? You should see your face right now.” She shook her head.
“I’m not waiting to be cancer free to be me, to live my life.
What you do not understand is that I am okay with not being cancer free.
That’s how I can live my life. I can’t do anything to prevent it.
I’ll fight it, but I am going to enjoy every moment I’m breathing. ”
“I cannot stand by and watch, Malini.” He ground the coffee and scooped some in the filter.
“Yes, you can. You’re stronger than you think.”
“You’re having a housewarming party with a puja?” Roshan asked, changing the subject a little as he watched Malini raid their kitchen. His kitchen, now. He turned on the pot. “You’re taking that?” She was holding a potato masher.
“When was the last time you mashed anything?” she challenged.
“When was the last time you did?” The coffee was finally done brewing. This conversation was extra painful without caffeine.
She remained silent but dropped the masher in her box and opened another drawer.
“Yes, I’m having a puja. That was the point of inviting Mom and Dad here,” Malini said as she pushed aside utensils while she decided what to take.
“Plus, you haven’t been to see it,” Malini insisted as she dropped a spatula in her box.
How could he? He’d just found out about it. “That’s my favorite egg spatula,” he said.
She grinned. “I know. It’s mine, too.”
Malini was going to do as she pleased. Nimita was gone. He watched her a moment before he realized that he had no control. No choice.
“Okay. Let’s have a party.” He sighed his acquiescence and sipped his coffee, even as a sense of panic fell over him. First Nimita. Now Malini. His house of cards was falling.
“Bhaiya.” She sounded serious.
“What?”
His sister caught him in her hazel eyes, her chin jutting in a defiant gesture. “Are you ever going to look at me and NOT think about cancer?”
“What?”
She opened cabinets and grabbed his favorite coffee mug. “Why did you become a pediatric oncologist?”
He stared at his sister. “That is a crazy question. What else would I be?”
“Anything.” She threw her hands out. “You could be a soccer player, an artist, a writer…”
He pressed his mouth into a line. “I always wanted to go into medicine.” That was true.
“Fine.” She found the pan he used for his daily omelet and dropped it in her box. He said nothing. “Even in medicine, you could have been a cardiologist. Or an orthopedist. Or even an ophthalmologist. I hear they have good hours.”
He stared at her. He had never answered this question. Likely because no one, no one, not his parents, not Vishal or Karan, not even Roshan himself had asked that question.
“I…because…” Because what else would he have done?
“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Malini said. “You’re a pediatric oncologist because I was sick.”
He didn’t answer. Of course.
She nodded, seeming to accept this fact as part of their lives. “Do you even like being a pediatric oncologist?”
“I do.”
“See, I don’t believe you. How could you know if you like it, if you never ever considered anything else?”
“Malini. What is the point of this line of questioning?” His heart was thudding anxiety.
“My point is that everything you do revolves around me and cancer.” She came around and stood in front of him, her chin up. She was taller than in his mind, but her eyes were just as expressive as ever. “It’s not healthy.”
He shook his head. Whatever. She didn’t understand that there really wasn’t a choice.
She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Malini Dave. Your sister. I am more than a cancer diagnosis.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know you.”
“Do you, though?” she asked. “Do you know who I am if I don’t have cancer?
Do you get that I went to college, that I studied even while I was in treatment and graduated top of my class?
That I have colleagues who respect me and students who love me?
Yes, I am excited to find out who I am without illness, but I am not willing to wait until a test tells me I can.
I am going to have a life in addition to and separate from cancer.
And from you. You might want to think about that.
” She paused. “Not to mention that you should be pissed that I am stealing your favorite kitchen items.”
“The kitchen items are replaceable.” He shrugged.
“Bhaiya. You are more than my cancer, too,” she said softly, placing her hands on either side of his face like she did when she was little.
Her hands were soft and warm. Callus free.
As if reading his mind, she lowered her hands to his.
“Calluses from working hard to take care of me. I want my own calluses, Bhaiya.”
“I got these from gardening.”
His sister sighed and dropped his hands. “Think about what your life might look like if it’s about more than me being sick.”
He stared at her. Was it true? Was he more than his sister’s cancer?
Whenever he looked at her, he did an assessment of her health.
Before he saw her smile or heard her voice.
She was right. Every time he looked at her, he saw her illness.
Which raised the question: Who was he if he let all that go?
* * *
“You’re my friend, and I want you to come to my housewarming party.”
Nimita stared at Malini. “You know I want to be there, but your brother will be there, and it’ll be so awkward.” Nimita wasn’t surprised that Malini knew they’d broken up. A Holi celebration was not exactly a private place to have a huge fight.
“He’s my brother, and I love him, but you are my friend.” She paused. “Like my first real friend,” she said quietly.
Nimita cocked an eyebrow. “Get out of here.”
Malini’s eyes widened. “It’s true. I was sick and—”
Nimita saw her smirk. “That’s cheap, Mali, playing the cancer card.” She shook her head at the young woman.
Malini shrugged, unapologetic. “Hey. It was worth a try. But seriously. I was sick when I was in college, so I didn’t make those lasting friendships.
You’re like my first friend who is not a colleague.
You help me have new experiences…and plain and simple, I want to share this with you. ” She paused. “Don’t make me beg.”
Nimita gave her a withering look.
“Fine. I’ll beg. Please?” She pouted her lip.
Nimita let out a huge sigh. “Fine. Fine. Stop with the pouty lip. I’ll be there. For the party part.”
“Great. But you’ll be coming for the puja part, too.”
“That’s for family.”
“Exactly.”
Nimita clearly had no choice in the matter, so she might as well lean into it.
On the day of the party, she showed up early at Malini’s request to help out. Roshan was already there. The apartment was perfect for Malini. One bedroom, small kitchen, small family room and a balcony.
“Hey,” she said upon entering. Could she be more cliché? But might as well be friendly. They may not be together anymore, but for Mali’s sake, she could be nice. She knew Roshan would not make a scene on Mali’s big day.