As if she didn't know that – as if she could do anything about it right now.
'Just so we're clear on the evening's agenda.'
'We're clear.' She said.
She thought of her laundry again. Better get to it. No point in standing here waiting for outright war to break out. 'And now I really have to—'
'Right. Those chores.'
'Yes. Excuse me.' She slid around him and took off down the hall.
Twenty minutes later the load of laundry had reached the spin cycle and Daksh was all dressed in his white and red shortie pajamas with racing cars all over it.
'I took a shower,' he announced. 'And I brushed my teeth like I'm s'posed to. So, please, will you both come in and kiss me good-night?'
Geet had planned to let Maan do the honors on his own. But which mother could resist such a sweet request? She trooped down the hall in the rear, Maan ahead of her and Daksh leading the way.
In his red and green-accented blue room, Daksh yanked back the covers and jumped into bed. He lay back on his blue pillow and let out a big, contented sigh.
'Dad, I forgot to tell you something…. tomorrow I am signing up for soccer team. Will you come with us.'
'Sure dear' the answer came instantly. Maan was more than willing to be with his son. To spend a day with his son, and his love….
Daksh was beaming, looking from Maan to Geet and back to Maan again. 'My Daddy, My maa and Daksh together at last…'
Words of caution rose to Geet's lips: Slow down here, young boy. Let's take this one step at a time…
Geet held those words back. It seemed wrong, somehow, to speak of caution now. Daksh had finally met his father. And in spite of the tension between Maan and Geet, the meeting had gone beautifully – much better than Geet would have dared to dream.
The rest they would work out – starting as soon as she and Maan left this room.
Daksh's expression had turned solemn. Geet probably should have guessed what was coming.
Daksh said, 'Daddy, you know, I've been thinking about, a baby sister or brother. Well…I prefer a baby sister. Ahaan is having a baby sister. He said, that was his parents birthday present to him. So Daddy,….'. He looked at his parents expectantly.
Maan and Geet blushed profusely…. glared each other and looked away… didn't know what to say or how to react, they stood rooted for a moment. And speak simultaneously…
'Daksh…'
Geet could have kicked herself for not speaking up a moment before.
'Whoa.' She forced a laugh. 'Slow down, boy. Not so fast.'
But Daksh wouldn't take the hint – and Geet probably shouldn't have expected him to.
This was, after all, her son's dream come true. Daksh fondest wish had always been to have a baby sister or brother, eventually, a little sister – and maybe even a brother, though Daksh was never 100 percent sure about the brother.From the time, Ahaan had a sister, he was behind her, as if she can buy and give him one.
Daksh spoke sternly. 'Maa… I want a baby sister….' Doesn't knowing, what he is asking for… and what situation he has put his parents…
'Wait just a minute, here,' Geet began, matching her son's in sternness. Unfortunately, she couldn't quite make up her mind how to go on from there.
Maan came to her rescue.
'Daksh.' He sat on the edge of the bed. 'It's been a great afternoon. I loved every minute of it.'
'Me, too. I'm so glad you're home. And I want you to—'
He reached out, put a finger to the mouth that was so much like his own. 'Chup. Bilkul chup. Listen to me. You are five years old. There are a lot of decisions you just don't get to make.'
'What does that mean?' Daksh demanded. 'You're not going to buy me a baby sister Dad?'
'It means there are a lot of things to consider here.' Good Lord, the man didn't miss a beat. Geet marveled at him, the sweet man she'd once loved, grown up into a diplomat. 'Your mother and I have to do some serious talking. Then we will discuss about it'
'But Dad—'
Maan shook his head. 'You're not listening.'
Daksh let out a small, wounded cry and pout his lips... 'I am so.' Sweet heavens… a replica of Geet, he thought.
'Good.' He gently smoothed the curly bangs away from his forehead, and looked at Geet and continued... 'I can't tell you, right this minute, and neither can your mother, what is going to happen. You just have to wait.' Geet missed a beat in his look. She could feel her, cheeks grew warm… The way he was looking at her was making her insides melt, her heart pounding faster… and her clothing feel much too tight…. She averted her gaze…
'How long do I have to wait?' Daksh's voice brought them back to the present crisis.
'Not too long.'
'Till tomorrow? In the morning? While we're having breakfast? Can we talk about it then?'
Maan shifted on the edge of the bed. Geet read the body language. The barrage of questions would wear even a diplomat down. He wasn't sure how to go on from there.
Geet stepped up… Unknowingly, she put her hand on his shoulder. Through the cloth of his shirt she felt the heat and the muscle. It struck her like a blow – it was the first time she had touched him in six full years.
He turned, looked at her, slightly startled. He sucked in a slow, deep breath, as the heat from that delicate, single touch spilled hot across his skin. Their gazes met and locked… they lost their breath as they fell into bottomless pools of sensual promise… It was too much, meeting those eyes of his and touching him, too. She immediately dropped her hand
away. A sudden loss of warmth hit him, as she pulled her hands away…
Maan could not shift his gaze. The softness in her face made her look incandescently beautiful… Through the thin material of her dress, he could feel the heat of her body and it was killing him. He was almost painfully aware of the rounded curves of her body…. The flat planes of her belly…. His gaze went lambent, filled with a craving so carnal, she felt its touch through her skin, in every sinew, every bone…. She wanted it or not, she loved and hated his admiration... This is getting tougher and tougher than she thought… but she knows, she can't give in to temptation – not if she wants to keep Maan away from her… She is willing to let Maan in her son's life. But, that's it!!! Nothing more. The conflict is between emotionalism and the truth. And the truth, he is her painful past… and it will be better, if the past remains past. .. Whatever, was beautiful between them, was lost… something which can never be resurrected…
'Say good-night, Maan,' she instructed with a firmness that surprised her.
'Daksh, give your dad goodnight kiss.'
Anupamaa
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