Samar shrugged, wrapping an arm around Yathaarth and holding him close.
“Come on, cake time! Who wants a slice?” Iram’s voice made them all sit up. Yathaarth broke free from his hold and ran, tears forgotten — “Me, me me!”
“Watch where you are going!” Atharva called out, and Yathaarth immediately looked to his right, the fire far away from him.
“First distribute it to everybody.” Iram set the tray down and began handing him paper plates. He went and set one in Amaal’s open palms, walking along the farthest periphery of the bonfire, then came and set another paper plate in his palms.
“Here’s for Baba.” Iram gave him a plate and he spooned some of the cream into his mouth while walking to his father. He reached there and stood in front of his father. Samar saw a tiny, angry Atharva look at an amused Atharva. Then angry Atharva held the plate out, cream stuck on his mouth. Amused Atharva wiped it off, and accepted the plate before angry Atharva grunted and kissed his cheek.
“What’s that for?” Amaal protested. “Why didn’t I get a kiss with my cake?”
“Bcoz…” Yathaarth said. “Baba let Mama eat frosting and ask for kissies. It called bater.”
Samar burst out laughing along with Amaal.
“Arth!” Iram scolded, mouth open, and Atharva grabbed him in his lap, tickling him to elicit loud howls. They all settled with their cakes. Noora got two.
“We’ve talked about this, beta, no going near the fire,” Atharva was murmuring low to his son. Samar didn’t want to eavesdrop but he could hear it. “What happens if you get too close?”
“Oooooo burn.”
“Yes, ooo burn. And then no playing, no car rides, staying in bed. You want that?”
He shook his head. Samar saw from the corner of his eye Atharva kiss it and spoon a bite of his cake, feeding it into his son’s open mouth. Yathaarth cozied up under his arm and kept eating. Atharva kept feeding.
Samar glanced up, and Amaal was again looking at him with that strange expression. He held up his plate — “Want my frosting?”
She balled up her tissue paper and threw it at him.
“Iram, he is done.” Atharva held the half-finished cake plate out to her as he held Yathaarth already asleep in his other arm. Samar passed the plate and saw Atharva lay his son in his lap and take off his jacket to cover him.
“He was eating just now…” Samar gaped.
“Genetic problem,” Atharva chuckled, running his fingers through his son’s hair. Yathaarth stirred, and blinked up at the sky — “Baba stas…”
“Yes, Dilbaro, stars,” Atharva whispered. “Now close your eyes.”
“Binany stas, Baba…” he tried to push his hand up but Atharva caught it. “We will try to find them tomorrow. Now go to sleep.” Atharva closed his eyes and patted his forehead.
“Binany stars?”
“Binary stars,” Atharva clarified, his voice gone low. “I was teaching him how to locate constellations and Iram introduced a new concept.”
“Binary stars is not a new concept,” Iram argued.
“It’s new for a three-year-old.”
“You told me binary stars are no different from regular stars, only that they occur in pairs…”
“Whatarebinary stars?!” Amaal intervened.
“Two stars that are close together,” Atharva explained. “Like, see…” he pointed up. “They appear as twin stars close to each other. But they are not bound to each other. They are bound to the space between them, and keep orbiting it like two dancers. Like those two — Arundhati and Vashishtha.”
They all glanced up, trying to locate two stars close together in a whole minefield of pinpricks.
“Which?” Amaal whined.
“Those two, in the left corner, there,” Iram showed.
