Mili couldn’t believe Samir had just said that to his entire family. The attention of every single person in the room focused on her. But Samir’s attention was what stole her breath. “It’s hers because she’s done more for it than any of us.”
Finally, there was silence in the room.
But it didn’t last. “What is that supposed to mean, Samir?” Rima said. She tried to stand up, but she seemed to lose her strength and sat back down, her face suddenly as white as a sheet.
Virat was on his knees next to his wife in an instant. “Rima.” Just that one word and Mili felt a lifetime of love wrapped up in it. Rima stroked his cheek.
“Rima, are you okay?” Samir pressed a hand into her shoulder and looked so scared that Mili wished she could go to him.
“Of course I’m not okay, Samir. I have no idea what you’re talking about. And frankly you’ve been acting so crazy lately you’re really starting to scare me.” She pressed her hand into her belly and leaned forward with a pained hiss.
The blood drained from Virat’s face. “Rima,
jaan,
let’s get you to the bed. You need to lie down. Samir is fine.”
Rima gave her husband a soothing look and turned to Samir. “What do you mean Mili has done more for the
haveli
than any of us? What’s going on, Samir? Virat, do you know what’s going on?”
Virat turned to Samir, then looked at Mili, then back again at Samir. “Bloody hell,” he said as realization dawned on him.
Baiji looked from Virat to Samir. “Oh Krishna, what have you boys done now?”
Mili felt the weight of Samir’s gaze, but she couldn’t meet it. Not only did Samir’s family know she had slept with him, now they all knew that she was the one girl who should never have gone anywhere near him.
Rima looked from face to face, her own confused face going whiter and whiter with every breath. She started to say something, but another gasp of pain escaped her lips. She pressed a hand into her belly and swallowed.
The collective anxiety of the room shifted to Rima. Her breathing became labored, her face scrunched up in pain. Baiji used the end of her sari to dab the sweat that beaded across Rima’s forehead. “Samir, call the driver, we need to go to the hospital right now.”
Before the words had left Baiji’s mouth, Rima screamed and doubled over.
29
“O
y hoy,
look at your faces, did someone die?” Rima sat propped up in one of those partially folded spaceship-style hospital beds. Despite the glazed, medicated look in her suddenly sunken eyes she was a stunningly beautiful woman, all delicate features and skin almost as light as Samir’s.
Mili stood by the door and watched Samir wrap his arms around her, taking care to avoid all the machines and tubes spouting from her like an octopus. “Yeah, us. We almost died. Thanks for scaring us to death.”
Instead of responding to Samir, Rima beckoned Mili over. “I hope you know what drama queens these brothers are.”
Samir tried to catch Mili’s eye, but she kept her focus squarely on Rima and took the hand she was holding out.
Rima was right. Samir and Virat had both been a mess last night when Rima had gone into premature labor. Samir had asked her if she wanted to stay home, but strange as it was, she had wanted to be at the hospital with them. None of them had slept, eaten, or talked while they waited all night for the doctors to stop the labor. The baby was still a week away from the safe thirty-week mark and it was imperative that he-slash-she stay inside for at least a few weeks more. Mili said a silent prayer and squeezed Rima’s hand.
“Would you like your breakfast?” Samir picked up the green Jell-O from Rima’s food tray.
Rima made a face.
“Put that awful thing away,” Baiji said, smacking Samir’s hand. “Lily is bringing home-cooked food.”
“So, what’s the story?” Rima raised a brow at Samir. “What’s this thing about the
haveli
and Mili’s dowry?”
Virat and Samir looked at each other.
“
Arrey,
what are you gaping around like that for? Why did the
haveli
have to be saved and why was Mili’s dowry—Oh! Oh, Good God!” Rima’s eyes popped to perfect circles. “Oh God, Samir, how could you not tell us? Virat, did he tell you?”
Virat swallowed hard and rubbed her feet. “Rima, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but can we talk about it later?”
“I’m right, am I not?” She turned to Samir. Samir’s gaze bounced from Rima to Mili, then to Virat.
“Why are you looking around like a fool? No one’s going to help you. First you run off and get married and then you keep it from us? What is wrong with you?”
It was a good thing the bed had rails because Mili had to hold on to keep from falling off.
Rima turned to Mili. “I don’t understand what the big secret is? Why didn’t you two just tell us? Was it because of the baby?” She touched her belly. “Did you meet in America? Oh my God, are you taking him back to America with you?”
“For someone who just put us through hell last night, you’re just bursting with questions, aren’t you? Why don’t you rest for a while? We’ll explain everything later,” Samir said.
“
Arrey,
let Mili answer. Why are you interrupting?” Rima looked at Mili.
“Samir’s right. We can discuss it later. You should rest now.” Mili pushed her back on the bed and pulled the covers over her.
Baiji watched Mili with a curious expression and Mili gave up on trying to tamp down her stupid blushing reflex. Then Baiji turned her mother’s curiosity on Samir. He looked away.
“But I’m not tired. What I am is hungry,” Rima said.
As if on cue the door opened and Lily Auntie walked in with a carrier full of food and a worried frown on her gently lined face. Two other worried faces followed her into the room.
“We wanted to come and see you, Rima-
bhabhi,
” Lily said tentatively. “Sam-Sir said it would be fine.”
“Of course it’s fine. Come, come.” Rima smiled and waved them in.
Baiji took the food carrier from Lily and started laying food out on a steel plate. Mili helped her.
“Samir, why don’t you introduce your wife to your staff.” Rima put a spoonful of dal and rice in her mouth and gave the three new entrants a meaningful look.
Samir squeezed his temples.
He had a staff?
He searched her face with his too tired eyes, looking almost afraid of her reaction. “Staff?” she mouthed, eyebrows raised, and he relaxed.
“Sam-Sir, you made marriage and didn’t even tell us? How like that?” The tall skinny man in a bright red shirt and meticulously slicked back hair threw a seriously offended look at Samir. Then flicked his head in Mili’s direction with a camera-ready smile. “Sam-Sir, at least do intro, no?”
Samir let out a sigh. “Mili, this is Javed. Javed, this is Mili.”
Mili couldn’t help but smile. “How are you, Javed
bhai?
”
Javed flashed her another camera-ready smile. “Very fine. Very fine. Myself Sam-Sir’s driver,” he said in English, even though both Samir and Mili had addressed him in Hindi. “You from America, Mili-
bhabhi?
”
“We met in America, yes.”
“Ah, so now I get!” Javed said, still in English.
“Javed.” The warning in Samir’s tone was impossible to miss.
But Javed missed it anyway and turned to Mili like an excited child with a secret to share. “Mili-
bhabhi,
Sam-Sir has been acting so strange-like since he came back from America. Full-on
Devdas
mode—total sad-song types. You know what he did today?”
“And Mili, this is Lily Auntie. You’ve met her. She keeps my house for me.” Samir cut Javed off without a hint of his usual Samir finesse.
“Hello, Lily Auntie.” Mili returned Lily’s smile and turned back to Javed. “So, Javed
-bhai,
you were telling me what
Sam-Sir
did today.”
Javed got so excited he forgot his camera-ready smile. “
Arrey,
Mili-
bhabhi,
it was full-on drama. He just got out of the car in the middle of Mumbai-Pune highway and started walking.” Javed pushed his arms out and did an incredibly accurate imitation of Samir’s guy-with-humungous-biceps swagger. “This long the traffic jam was”—he motioned a great distance with his hands—“but Sam-Sir’s face was even longer. I tried to stop him. But where was he listening? He just took off. Two hours it took before I picked him up. Still walking.” Javed walked his fingers across the air in front of him.
Everyone turned to Samir, shaking their heads and laughing. But Mili couldn’t breathe.
“Mili
-bhabhi,
Javed is right. Ever since Sam-Sir came back from America, he’s been all down-in-dumps.” Lily made a thumbs-down sign and smiled. “Usually, he’s all tip-top. Clothes, room, everything doing shining. Now. Nothing. Everything all over the place.” She shook her hands to indicate Samir’s nothingness and tears pushed at Mili’s eyelids.
Samir pulled himself to his full height. “Lily Auntie, let’s save some of these fond stories for later, shall we? Rima needs rest.”
Rima didn’t seem to think she needed rest, because she turned to the teenage girl cowering behind Lily. “Mili, this is Poppy,” she said in a softer voice, throwing the skinny girl a gentle look. “She’s Lily Auntie’s granddaughter. Samir’s taken care of her since she was a little girl. She just moved to Jamnagar with us. Now she’s going to help me take care of my baby. Right, Poppy?”
“Unless Sam-Sir needs me here. Then I’ll come back,” Poppy said with a debilitating lisp that made it hard to understand her. She gave Samir a look so worshipful, the mood in the room changed.
Lily dabbed her eyes. They mirrored Poppy’s devotion.
Samir’s entire body went utterly still, in that way it always did when he was overcome with emotion.
How had she thought she knew him so well? There was so much about him she didn’t know. The Samir who had dragged her to the wedding. The Samir who had raced to make samosas with her. The Samir who had branded her body, lain prostrate under her in total surrender. The Samir who had taken all responsibility for what happened between them, absolved her of all blame, when really she had wanted him more badly than she had ever wanted anything in her life. That Samir she knew. It had been hard, but that Samir she had been able to shut out with the force of her anger.
But this Samir who stood before her with his staff and his family, whom he allowed to walk all over him with such ease, this Samir, whom everyone seemed to love with such fierceness, was far more dangerous than the one who had made her forget everything she had been before him. This Samir with his unkempt clothes and his desperately hopeful eyes was making her forget the agony of the past months. He was making it hard to go on believing that the incredible generosity he had shown her, his innate gentleness, had all been an act to get what he wanted.
He smiled at Poppy. And Mili knew without a doubt how wrong she had been. It hadn’t been an act, none of it.
Mili turned to Poppy, her throat working to push back tears, and gave her a quick hug. “Hello, Poppy. Rima
-bhabhi
’s baby is so lucky to have a
didi
like you.”
Poppy’s face lit up with pride. She turned to Samir, clapping her hands, and he knew with absolute certainty that he was never letting Mili go. He would do whatever it took to make her see what she meant to him. He would follow her to the ends of the earth.
She searched his face, cocking her head to one side as if she were trying to gauge what he was thinking.
I love you.
That’s what he was thinking. He wanted to mouth it to her. He wanted to whisper it into her lips, into every secret place in her body. He wanted to scream it out in front of the entire world.
She didn’t look away. For the first time since she’d come back she held his gaze. It was equal parts fear and hope. And that something else she saved only for him sparkled at the edges. He would bring it back. Whatever it took he would bring it back.
She leaned back into Rima’s bed and suddenly everything disappeared from her eyes except horror. The beat of his heart stopped. Mili held up both hands. Her palms were completely red with blood. She spun toward Rima just as Rima’s head lolled back and her entire body went limp.
Mili had never seen a grown man cry. Virat slumped on the bench next to his brother and wept like a baby. Not for long, just for a few moments, but it was the most heartbreaking thing Mili had ever seen. Samir sat there with his arm around his shoulders and said nothing until he stopped. When he finally spoke, his face was carved in stone but his voice crackled with hope. “She’s going to be fine, Bhai.”
Mili leaned against a wall across from them in the private waiting room and watched Virat wipe his eyes. She should have felt like an intruder but every time Samir looked at her she knew there was nowhere on earth she needed to be but here.
After Rima had started hemorrhaging they had rushed her into surgery. That had been three hours ago. The huge wooden clock ticked away on the wall. Baiji paced the room, a tattered copy of the
Bhagavad Gita
clutched in her hands as she chanted verses under her breath. Every few minutes she stopped and pressed a hand into Virat’s shoulder.
Mili walked up to her and eased her into a chair. She sat down at her feet, took the book from her hands, and started chanting where she had left off. Her
naani
had taken her along whenever anyone in the village got sick and she had sat with the womenfolk and chanted the peace mantras for hours even when she was too young to know what they meant. The same peace she had felt back then settled over her as her voice sang out the familiar Sanskrit syllables.
Baiji placed a hand on Mili’s head, leaned back, and closed her eyes. Virat and Samir joined her on the floor. Sitting cross-legged next to her they joined their palms and closed their eyes. The whispered sounds of their voices blended with hers. The strength of their joint prayers intertwined and wrapped tightly around them and shut out the ticking clock, shut out everything but their words and their hope.
Hours or maybe it was just moments later a knock sounded on the door. The heavy curtain to the room lifted and the doctor walked in. She waited for them to finish the verse before she spoke. “Rima is out of surgery,” she said directly to Virat, who jumped up. “You have a baby girl. She’s healthy and stable.”
No one could breathe. They waited.
“Rima?” Baiji asked, and Virat made a pained sound.
The doctor patted Virat’s arm. “We’ve stopped the bleeding. The next few hours are critical, but if she doesn’t start bleeding again, she should regain consciousness. You can see her as soon as they have her settled in the ICU.”
“Can I see my baby?” Virat rubbed his eyes with his fingers and Samir squeezed his shoulder.
The doctor smiled. “They’re setting her up in the incubator. She’ll need to be there for at least a week. But she is one strong girl with very strong lungs.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. “You and one more person can go see her now.”
Virat and Baiji followed the doctor out of the room. The moment they were alone, Samir slumped into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. Without thinking about it, Mili sat down next to him and placed a hand on his arm.
That’s all it took. He turned to her, dug his face into her shoulder, and started shaking. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. There were no tears, no words, only utter relief for his niece and absolute terror for Rima.
She cradled him, stroked his hair, his back. “Shh, Samir. She’s going to be fine. They’ve stopped the bleeding. The baby is fine. You have a niece. A little girl to call you
chacha.
Samir-
chacha.
Or how about Chintu-
chacha?
”
He laughed and slowly the shaking stopped. His breathing steadied. For a long while he stayed right there in her arms, as she whispered nonsense words into his hair, soaking up everything she was pouring into him. How did he do that? How did he have the courage to lay himself out in front of her like that at every turn, knowing full well she could push him away? Had pushed him away. Hearing his voice, looking at him, touching him, it still hurt, but pain wasn’t all she felt. And what she did feel gave her the courage to not push him away again.