If Karan keeps letting his mom do all this stuff without asking me… if he constantly cancels our plans because she needs him and she’s family…
… then me bringing Océane home shouldn’t be a big deal, right?
“Are you sure?” Océane asks, her eyes still watery.
“One hundred percent. We even have a room for you.”
The guest room will be perfect for her. Right now, Cayce and Corey share a room, and with us still working through their separation anxiety, that arrangement isn’t changing anytime soon. We hardly use the tiny guest room anymore, since Karan’s parents now live nearby.
Before she can argue further, there’s a knock at the door. The paramedics are here.
And our lives are about to change drastically.
Chapter 5
Karan
“You look distracted, Beta.”
I jump, ripped from my daze in a panic at the sound of my father’s voice, but when I look up at him, he’s simply staring back at me with a gentle smile.
I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.
The decades-old chant soothes me back into my composed self.
As always, my father’s salt and pepper hair is neatly combed to one side, not a single stray strand out of place. He gave me hell when I began growing my hair out and tying it back in a bun.
Years later, he’s over it, but that tiny glint of judgment always hides in his hazel eyes.
“Uh…” I look around to center myself back in the moment.
It’s just the two of us sitting on the couch in my parents’ small living room. From my vantage point, I can see Rachel chatting with Mom in the kitchen.
So far, so good.
Rachel’s smiling, a glass of beer in her hand as she sits at the kitchen table. I can’t see Mom, but I hear her scurrying around at the kitchen counter. No matter how many times Rachel has offered to help Mom when she’s making a meal, Mom always refuses.
But it’s not about Rachel. Heck, I’m sitting here on my ass, not helping out, for a reason. Mom likes her space in the kitchen, and hell hath no fury for the poor mortal who gets in her way, cancer or no cancer.
“Yeah, I guess I am a little distracted.” I rub the back of my neck with my hand as I crane it around. “Where are the boys?”
“I think they’re downstairs.” Dad squints. “What’s on your mind, Beta?”
I inhale and lean back against the leather couch. The truth is, I can’t really spew out everything that’s on my mind. Not to Dad. That was never the type of relationship we had. My brain is still scarred from memories of his screams, the fear that would inhabit my bones, whenever I dared to step out of line or try to be someone he doesn’t want me to be.
Even if I was open with him, I can’t really share what occupies my mind right now. Not when it has to do with my mother.
I’m not blind about the fact that the amount of space Mom’s been taking up ever since they moved to the city has been weighing on Rachel. Despite the long hours I work, it’s still very clear to me. I lost a lot of points by choosing to help Mom the other night, and I was already in the negatives.
But I know what Dad would say.A good son honours his mother.
Ever since I was born, he has always drilled down this one value from his Indian heritage more than any other:
Love, respect, and serve your parents.
Mom may not be Indian, but she sure as hell wields that value, too. There’s a good reason they fell in love and got married; they’ve got a lot in common.
But it’s insanely frustrating not to be able to share what’s on my mind. I can’t share with Dad because he won’t understand. Most of my friends from college slowly fell away when I had Cayce and Corey. The person I’m closest to apart from my wife is Will, but I can’t be 100% honest with him, either.
