‘That’s what I told Ma!’ I huff out a puff of air and dig my head into the velvet headboard. ‘She didn’t listen, obviously. And, oh my God, to think I took the job at Eternally Yours for her and it turns out I’m doing the exact same thing as them – trying to find someone to set her up with.’
Lipi and Shirin share a glance, something unspoken crossing between them, and the pit in my stomach returns, the one thattells me I’m missing out on a vital part of their friendship.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Did you really take the job for your mum or did you take it for you?’ Lipi asks, not unkindly.
I’m about to say ‘Of course I took it for Ma’, but I stop myself. Because now I think about it, even though I took it for Ma, I realise I took it for myself, too. After Baba passed away, I felt the need to plan things, wanting to regain a sense of control after feeling like the world had become chaotic and unpredictable without him to root me and Ma in place. When I saw the job advert for Eternally Yours, planning was a key element of the role. I remember feeling something warm blooming inside me, like the thing I had used to channel my grief could become more than a way to regulate my emotions. I was just too afraid to admit it until now. Until I realised it could be an actual career.
And the more time I’ve spent at Eternally Yours, the more I’ve come to realise that I’m actually good at it. More than that, Iloveit. The planning aspect has shapeshifted from being a coping mechanism to a meaningful passion, one I can see myself doing for the rest of my life. My grief has given me direction in a way I didn’t think was possible.
‘Maybe that’s how it started,’ I say eventually. ‘But not any more.’
Lipi’s eyes sparkle with joy. ‘Good. So don’t turn your experience at Eternally Yours into something negative. You did it foryou, not for Auntie.’
I grab Lipi’s hand and give it a squeeze, grateful that she’s able to see what I haven’t been. Still, the anger I felt before about Ma’s stubbornness returns.
‘I’m just annoyed with Mum, you know. She can make things right with Auntie and Uncle but she’s choosing not to, and even though I get why she argued with them in the first place, I just wish they could get over it already. Imagine how much couldhave been avoided if they hadn’t let it go on this long.’ I shake my head. ‘We could have hung out more and I might still have a boyfriend.’
‘I kind of see where she’s coming from,’ Shirin says, causing me to raise my brows in confusion. ‘Like, you bet I would trip a fuse if you guys told me something I didn’t want to hear. You might be right but I’d be mad regardless.’
‘But she’s admitted that they were right in the first place, so why is shestillmad at them? That’s the part I don’t get.’
‘Because sometimes knowing something is right andfeelingthat something is right are two totally different things, Poppy,’ Lipi says. ‘Your mum might haveknownshe wanted to date – but tofeelit? That’s got to be different.’
I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that Lipi’s said it, I feel so ridiculous for being mad at Ma.
‘And you’ve got to consider that she’d be afraid to lose someone new all over again,’ Shirin adds. ‘To open yourself up, even if it is just to a randomer you might never see again, after already losing the love of your life? Mate, that’s got to be tough. Bound to open up some old wounds.’
‘The truth hurts because it’s the reality we choose to ignore.’ Lipi rubs the space between my thumb and forefinger. ‘She ran from Auntie and Uncle because she was scared. When you think about it, Salman pretty much did the same. He was afraid you’d leave him behind, so he left you before you could leave him.’
As their words wash over me, I feel my anger slowly dissipate. I’m still frustrated by Ma’s actions, or lack thereof, but I finally understand her more. Understand why she chose to walk away from the people who love her more than anything in the world when faced with the fear of being left behind yet again.
‘I guess you’re right,’ I finally say with a deep breath and take my best friend’s hands. ‘What would I do without you?’
‘Probably become a final girl,’ Shirin says without missing abeat.
I burst into a laugh. ‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Your message was urgent! And your house makes funny noises sometimes, so how could Inotthink that the demon that’s been hiding in your utility room had finally come out to play and you just didn’t want to stick around and be the main character? Very plausible, if you ask me.’
‘Not plausible at all. We discussed this.’ Lipi shakes her head, as if she can’t believe she’s having this conversation. Again. ‘Also, Poppy, there is not a demon in your house. I think the cards would tell me if evil was lurking there.’
‘I still think there is.’ Shirin shivers. ‘Girl, I know desis don’t appear in horror films in Hollywood and we’re as far from Bollywood as we can be, but trust me when I say there’s a jinn in that house.’
‘Stop it, you’re going to scare her!’
‘Sheshouldbe scared. Don’t you remember .?.?.’
Shirin and Lipi go back and forth about the supposed demon in my house and I get that funny feeling in my stomach again. The one that tells me I’m third-wheeling and clinging on to a friendship that doesn’t belong to me any more.
‘Do you guys do that a lot?’ I whisper, my voice quiet with a question I never thought I’d say out loud.
‘What? Debate whether or not there’s a spirit in your house?’ Lipi asks with a frown.
I shake my head. ‘No, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’
But Shirin won’t take no for an answer. ‘Tell us, tell us, tell us.’ She pokes me in my left arm so many times it practically goes numb.
