It made her feel guiltier for abandoning her mom and only returning home once in over a decade to visit.
“Are you lonely, Mom?”
Considering the news she had to impart, it wasn’t the best time to probe into her mom’s emotional state, but she felt bad hearing how busy Sindhu was.
Kushi’s eyebrows shot heavenward. “I’ve always been a homebody who values my peace. You know that.”
Samira did know. In primary school, while other mothers would congregate at the gate to gossip after their kids had entered, Kushi would give her a wave and walk briskly up the street toward home. The local school she’d attended had been like a gathering of the United Nations, with families from Sudan, Lebanon, Sri Lanka, India, Vietnam, China, and Kenya. The mothers would trade recipes while keeping an eagle eye on their younger children, who were often swinging precariously from the monkey bars just inside the school gate.
But Kushi had never been a part of the school community. It hadn’t bothered Samira at the time, because she’d had Pia a few year levels below her, and Sindhu had been on the Parents and Friends social committee. Later, in high school, none of the parents were involved, and they certainly didn’t walk their kids to school, so Samira hadn’t given it much thought. Had her mom been lonely even when her dad was around?
She’d given up her job as an architect in a small local firm when Samira had been born, and her dad had kept long hours at the university. When he wasn’t in town at work, he’d live the academic life at home, with his nose buried in books well past midnight.
Her parents had always seemed happy. Until her marriage debacle, that is. Her dad had been against it from the start, but he’d given in to Kushi because he loved her and saw how important it was to her. But he’d never liked Avi, and her dad was a good judge of character. Once her dad saw how she’d fallen for Avi, he shelved his concerns and supported her like he always did. But when her marriage fell apart, she saw the toll it took on her parents’ relationship. Her dad blamed her mom, just like she had, and even though they’d never discussed it as such, she sensed the distance in her parents’ marriage.
It had been a relief to flee Melbourne for a number of reasons when her divorce came through, and the guilt over the part she’d inadvertently played in her parents’ marriage problems had been one of them. Kushi and Ronald had seemed happy enough after she’d left during their many video conferences, and she could see they loved each other, but it made her feel bad that her disastrous marriage had affected them almost as much as it had her.
She’d been lucky growing up with parents who adored each other, and she’d reveled in their love, but it irked that she’d never really thought of how her mom coped without having her husband and daughter around for the last five years.
She’d been selfish, blaming her mom for her failed marriage, when she should’ve been reestablishing a relationship rather than punishing her. And now that she’d be bringing her own child into this world, and probably raising him or her alone in LA, it made her want to cherish her mom even more.
“What’s got into you, betee? Why are you asking these questions about loneliness?”
Samira inhaled and blew out a breath to steady her nerves. “I have something to tell you.”
Kushi had been spooning okra onto a plate, and the ladle paused midair. “Let me guess. You’re leaving earlier than expected.”
Considering Samira couldn’t wait to flee Melbourne five years earlier after her dad’s funeral, it wasn’t such a stretch for her mom to jump to that conclusion.
“No.” She eased the ladle out of her grasp and placed it back in the pot, and took the plate from her mom’s hand and set it on the table, before gesturing at the seat next to her. “Come sit.”
“This sounds serious.” Worry creased Kushi’s brow. “It’s not your health, is it? Sushma’s sister-in-law’s cousin had a recent scare with ovarian cancer—”
“I’m pregnant, Mom.”
Samira had planned on easing into it, but with her mom likely to go off on many dire tangents like she usually did, she had to tell her.
Kushi’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened to saucer proportions. “What?”
“I’m having a baby.” Samira placed a protective hand over her belly. “It’s early days, but I’ve had a blood test, and the doctor at work confirmed it.”
“But . . . but . . . how . . .” Kushi shook her head, still slack-jawed as she stared at her in bewilderment. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say that you’re happy for me, that you’ll support me, that you’ll love this baby as much as I will.”
Samira heard the pleading in her tone, and it must’ve got through to her mom, because Kushi leaned forward and pulled her into her arms.
“Of course I will, betee. I love you, and I will love my first grandchild with every fiber of my being.”
Tears pooled in Samira’s eyes, and she blinked them away. She couldn’t afford to cry, because she had a feeling if she started, it would be difficult to stop and she might blurt out the whole sorry mess with Pia and Rory.
When they eased apart, Samira glimpsed the sheen in her mom’s eyes too.
“That Aussie you’re seeing is the father?”
Samira nodded. “Rory.”
“So you said.” Kushi made it sound like a curse. “Have you told him?”
“Yes.”
“Is he going to marry you?”
Right now, Samira didn’t know if Rory even wanted to be involved in his child’s life, let alone anything else. Besides, she would never marry for convention. Never again.
“We don’t need to be married to raise a child.”
“Oh dear.” Kushi pressed her knuckles against her temples in a familiar gesture of disapproval. “This is not good.”
“This is very good. A grandchild, Mom. How exciting.” She reached out and clasped Kushi’s hands in hers. “I know you will have a million questions and want me to do this the traditional way. But I’m thirty-seven. I’d given up hope of ever meeting someone I’d love enough to want to marry, let alone procreate with, so this baby is a miracle, considering I have three periods a year and the condom broke once.”
Embarrassment flushed Kushi’s cheeks, before she slowly nodded. “You are right. This baby is a miracle.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “A grandchild . . .”
A beatific smile spread across her face. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
This time when they embraced, Samira felt safe, cocooned in her mom’s love, knowing that no matter what happened, she had her mom in her corner.