The Unexpected Son (22 page)

S
he woke up with a lethargic feeling and a headache for the second morning in a row. Today the pain in her skull was significantly worse—pounding like a hammer around the crown. Vinita dismissed it as the result of a restless night punctuated by bad dreams. For some reason, during this trip, jet lag was still bothering her after several days of being in India.

As she reluctantly slid out of bed and stood up, an unexpected wave of dizziness made her sway and slump back onto the bed. It passed in seconds, but a violent shiver ran through her, giving her goose bumps. She blinked a couple of times to clear the peculiar sensation.

Maybe it was frustration and tension that were causing her to feel fatigued. She was tired of waiting for Rohit to recover and get discharged from the hospital, tired of waiting for her blood tests to be done, tired of waiting to hear from her irate husband.

She hoped Rohit could go home today. His infection had supposedly cleared up. About time, too, since he'd been there for several days.

Her blood test for HLA typing was scheduled for later that morning. It would determine if she was a compatible donor for her son. As his mother, it was more or less certain she would pass the test, and she was impatient to get that over with. The sooner she could donate her bone marrow to Rohit and see him on the road to recovery, the better she'd feel.

Minutes later, as she bathed, her shivers intensified. Was she coming down with the flu? If so, the timing was rotten. The blood test would have to be postponed. But she couldn't afford to wait. She'd already used up several days of the maximum twelve weeks of family leave she had been granted by her employer. She couldn't stay in Palgaum indefinitely. She
had
to stay healthy. Quickly she toweled herself dry and put on some clothes.

When she appeared for breakfast a while later, Sayee eyed her with a frown. “Are you all right?”

“Sure.” Vinita put on her sunniest smile.

“Your eyes are red. You look tired.”

“Lack of sleep.” She mulled it over for a bit. “I think it's also those tests I've been going through.” As a potential marrow donor she'd been tested for everything from stress to hypertension and asthma, from heart disease to lung and liver function during the past week. She'd been forced to talk briefly to a psychiatrist as well.

She'd readily agreed to each and every one of those tests. And she'd passed every one.

“You may be right.” Sayee put a scalding cup of tea in front of her. “What you need is a good breakfast. Anu is rolling fresh
chapatis.
I made fresh garlic chutney to go with it.”

“Sounds delicious.” Vinita took a sip of the rich tea and closed her eyes. “This tastes wonderful. Hot
chapatis
and tea brewed with loose tea leaves are a luxury for me.”

“Relax and enjoy, then.” Sayee busied herself getting plates. “Mummy should be done with her
pooja
in a few minutes.”

The thought of having to sit across from her mother and face her silent condemnation was hardly pleasant. Vinita braced herself for it.

Thankfully, before Mummy could appear at the table, Vinita finished her breakfast and escaped to the sanctuary of her room. The feverish feeling had worsened while she was eating, so she lay down and covered herself with a blanket, then fell into a deep sleep.

 

Later that morning, Vinita watched the rich, cherry red blood trickle from her vein into the glass tube. The sight of her own blood rarely bothered her. It was other people's blood that made her light-headed. When Arya was a child and had to have several stitches in her head after she'd fallen off her bicycle, Vinita had become so dizzy from looking at the copious amounts of blood oozing out of Arya's scalp that she had nearly passed out.

“That's the last of it, Mrs. Patil,” said the lab technician as he gently drew the needle out of Vinita's arm and pressed a wad of cotton on the punctured skin.

“When will I know if…I'm a match?” Vinita asked the technician.

He was a somber young man with eyeglasses and a goatee. Quiet, fast, and efficient, he had square, steady hands that seemed to be built for his occupation. He tossed the cotton ball into a trash can and put a small adhesive bandage on her arm before answering her question. “The results should be back within a day or two. The doctor will talk to you about it.”

“All right.” She observed him while he carefully sealed and labeled the tubes of blood. It had to be a hard job—taking samples of blood, urine, mucous, saliva, and God knows what else from people all day, every day. Inaccuracy could literally be a matter of life and death.

Thanking the man, she stepped out of the lab. It was a relief to walk away from that sterile room with its rows of tubes, bottles, syringes, and charts. It reminded her of what lay ahead.

What if, after all this effort, she still lost Rohit? It was hard to imagine, now that she'd seen him in the flesh, talked to him. Transplants were dangerous, unpredictable procedures. Rohit could die sooner than anticipated. The uneasy thought made her shiver. The headache from the morning was still with her.

Standing in the hallway for a minute, she ordered herself to ignore the chills and put a stop to the pessimism. This was only the beginning. She needed to be strong for the rest of the difficult journey. Maybe giving blood was making her a little shaky. Another long nap in the afternoon would fix that.

She started walking toward the staircase and took the single flight of steps down to the lobby, her legs feeling a little weak. What was the matter with her?

Sayee, who had driven her to the hospital and had been sitting in the waiting room, gave her an anxious look. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yes.” Vinita mustered up a smile for Sayee's sake. Her sister-in-law generally had a ready grin and a warm sense of humor. Vinita didn't want to ruin her sunny mood.

“You still look tired—in spite of your long nap this morning,” Sayee observed, rising from one of a dozen or so wooden chairs in the waiting room. “Let's go home and make sure you eat a good lunch.” Sayee's answer to any problem was eating a hearty meal.

“I'm not hungry,” said Vinita.

“After you give blood, you should drink and eat something immediately,” Sayee scolded gently. “Otherwise you'll feel weak.”

“I don't want to go home yet.”

“You want to go shopping, then?” There was no mistaking the eager note in Sayee's voice. Next to feeding people she loved shopping.

Vinita shook her head. “Why don't you go on home, Sayee? I want to visit Rohit before he's released from the hospital.”

Sayee's smile vanished. “I heard the boy was very nasty to you the other day.”

“Can't blame him. He's been stuck in a sickroom for several days. He's impatient and frustrated.” Vinita was surprised at her need to jump to her son's defense.

“Of course I feel sorry for the poor boy,” Sayee allowed. “But Vishal and Mummy will be upset if I leave you alone with him.”

“Vishal and Mummy get upset over the most trivial things.”

“They care about you, Vini.”

“I realize that. I'll explain to them later. You go on home and I'll take a rickshaw after I'm done here.”

Sayee hesitated. “If you're sure…”

“Positive.” Vinita nudged her toward the exit. “I'd like to get to know my son.”

“Rohit doesn't know that you have already taken the compatibility tests, does he?”

“No. But I intend to tell him.” She gave it a moment's thought as she and Sayee walked out of the waiting room. “There have been enough secrets around here.”

“It's not Vishal's fault that he kept Rohit a secret. He was only trying to protect you. So was Mummy.”

Vinita couldn't help smiling. Sayee was such a loyal wife and daughter-in-law. “It doesn't make it easier to forgive, though.”

Sayee pushed open the doors leading out into the blinding noon sunlight. “If you can't find a rickshaw, then call me, okay?”

“I will.” Vinita stepped outside with her and squinted against the glare of the sun. The tropical heat felt marvelous on her chilled skin, like an electric blanket wrapped around her. “Thanks for driving me here and waiting for me.”

“Don't be silly.” Sayee dug the car keys out of her bag and turned toward the parking lot.

“Don't delay lunch for my sake. Go ahead and eat without me.” Vinita watched Sayee get behind the wheel of the car and put on her driving glasses. She was lucky to have a sister-in-law who was so protective and caring. Despite the upheaval Vinita was causing in their lives, Sayee was handling it with her characteristic cheerfulness.

Sayee waved at her and drove away.

Vinita stood there for several minutes, trying to soak up every bit of sun. An unexpected sense of loneliness crept over her. The building behind her seemed more cheerless than it had earlier that day, a place where people often went in and never came out, a grim reminder that life was fragile and could crumble any second.

Right from the time she'd read that anonymous letter, she'd been alone in this mess. Matter of fact, she'd been alone going all the way back to her teenage years, when she'd first bumped into Som Kori. More than three decades later, she was still paying the price for surrendering to the lure of the forbidden.

Turning around, she found her way to the wing where Rohit's room was located. The chills returned immediately and she started shivering again. It had to be the air-conditioning, she told herself. She'd always been a lover of warm weather.

Just outside Rohit's door, she waited, listened for voices. If he had visitors, or maybe a nurse attending to him, she didn't want to interrupt.

Hearing no voices and seeing the door open, she did what she'd done the other day: she stood on the threshold and gazed at him. This morning he wasn't in bed. He was dressed in street clothes and sitting in the only available chair, which was pulled close to the window. A black canvas bag sat on the floor next to him. It looked like he was being released. It was a relief to know he was finally well enough to go home.

He was staring pensively at something outside the window. He didn't notice her presence. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she studied him, absorbing all the details she hadn't had a chance to until now.

It was amazing how this deep need to know every little thing about her son had come upon her the moment she'd discovered his existence. In fact, in an attempt to absorb the odd wonder of it, she'd silently chanted
I have a son
over and over again. It was still difficult to comprehend that this young man was her child—the baby that had kicked her with all his might for weeks while growing in her womb. She'd always known her baby was a boy.

Despite his fierce Kori looks, she could see the resemblance to his cousins, Vishal's twin boys—mostly around the jaw and hairline. It was satisfying to note that he had some Shelke in him. But she found no likeness to Arya—because Arya had taken after Girish's side of the family. She hoped her children at least shared some mental and emotional characteristics.

Dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, Rohit's hair was neatly brushed. He sat with one foot resting over the other knee. He wore casual
chappals
on his large feet. He was quite tall for a boy whose mother was petite. The foot resting on the floor was tapping a quick, rhythmic beat.

Impatience, she concluded, looking at that restless foot. Vishal often did that, too. Rohit seemed to be deep in thought, with his elbow braced on the arm of the chair and his cheek resting on his fist. What was he thinking about? Pleasant thoughts? Or were they about his chances of survival? About his real mother, who had suddenly popped into his life and was now causing such turmoil?

And what was it
she
felt for this boy? She couldn't quite call it love. She didn't know him enough to love him in the true sense. And yet, the sudden rush of emotion she'd experienced just now, when she'd laid eyes on him, had to mean something.

When she'd had her fill of observing him in silence, she knocked on the door.

Startled, he turned his face to the door. Then he hissed out an unmistakable sigh.

She stepped inside the room despite the openly hostile reception. She might as well have been a poisonous insect that had flown in unannounced. “I made a promise that I'd be back.”

“Hmph,” he grunted. “I don't remember asking you to come.” A spark of angry defiance lit up his golden eyes, giving them a feline appearance.

“No, but I happened to be at the hospital,” she replied, managing to sound nonchalant. “I came to get myself tested as your potential donor.”

He didn't respond, but she saw the slightest twitch in his jaw. Her words had registered on some level. The boy was probably all bark and no bite. She'd take her chances with him. He could push her away all he wanted, but she knew how to shove back with equal strength.

“May I please sit down?” she asked, pointing to the bed that was already made. There was no other place to sit.

He shrugged, clearly indicating he didn't care whether she sat down or hung upside down from the ceiling.

Without waiting for his reply, she sat on the edge of the bed and placed her handbag beside her. She badly needed to sit. She gave herself a moment to think of something suitable to say. “Looks like you're being released today?”

“Hmm.” He returned his gaze to the scene outside the window, turning his back to her. Rude behavior—but justifiable in his case. Every time he behaved like a bear, she had to remind herself that he was unwell. Cancer wasn't some simple illness like the flu. It ruined a person physically, mentally, and emotionally. He was entitled to a little boorishness.

“Is your…are your parents coming to fetch you?” She looked at her wristwatch. It was past noon. She probably had very little time alone with him if they were expected soon.