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Chapter TwelvePast"Would you like anything to drink, Daadi?" Maan asked as he ate dinner with his grandmother in his dining room. She had last visited his flat about a month ago, when she had lectured him about the importance of settling down. Now she was back for supper, and Maan just *knew* she was going to bring the topic up again.
"No, thank you. I am fine." Daadi dabbed the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. "So, Maan, my dear . . . any new romantic prospects since I last saw you?"
Maan stifled a sigh. There it was.
"No, Daadi." There was a slight, uncontrollable edge to his voice.
Daadi set down her fork, which clinked loudly against her plate. "All right, Maan. This is the limit. It's been several months. Please tell me why you are so against finding a new girl."
Heat rushed to Maan's face, and he wondered if his grandmother would ever let the matter drop. It struck him that maybe Daadi would never stop bugging him until she knew the truth.
"I know that you and Sameera did not work out," Daadi continued, "but what did she do that has scarred you so? Why --"
Daadi was interrupted by Maan dropping his own fork in resignation. "A few months ago, Sameera told me she was pregnant," he admitted. Maan felt an unexpected twinge of relief. He had kept this to himself for too long.
"What?" Daadi gasped.
Maan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Daadi was probably shocked that he had had pre-marital "relations." He hoped she would be able to handle what he was about to say next. But he had to get it all out. It was time. Maybe once Daadi learned the truth, she would understand why it was out of the question for him to enter a relationship.
"What happened to the baby?" Daadi demanded. "You mean Sameera is somewhere out there with your child?"
"No."
"No?" Daadi's eyes began to widen in horrified realization. "Did Sameera abort the child?" she whispered.
Maan grimaced. "I don't know what Sameera did after she left, Daadi. All I know is that it wasn't my child." He flashbacked to Sameera sitting at the kitchen table, admitting that she had secretly been seeing another man. After speaking to and following up with her cousin, a doctor, Sameera discovered that she could have only conceived the child during the two-week period that Maan had been out of town at a school-related convention. A period in which she and the other man had been intimate.
Although Sameera had planned to have a physician terminate the pregnancy before Maan found out, Maan had already guessed that she was carrying a baby. Which had led to the scene at the kitchen table that Maan remembered vividly. Maan could still picture his ex, her head hanging low as she made her sordid confession.
"Oh, Maan," Daadi murmured, her expression utterly dumbfounded.
Maan stared down at his half-eaten meal. "So, that's why I don't want to get married, Daadi. I can't get close to another woman again. I won't risk getting hurt. I'm sorry."
"How devastating this must have been for you," said Daadi softly. Sameera's betrayal could take a lifetime to recover from. Especially considering that Maan had already been emotionally burned when his mother had abruptly left the family home so many years ago.
"I was so happy, Daadi," said Maan wistfully, his gaze distant. "When I suspected that Sameera was pregnant, I was so happy. I *wanted* my baby, Daadi. At least, the baby I thought was mine."
Daadi shook her head, covering Maan's hand with hers. "You *will* have a child of your very own one day. Just have faith, my dear." She looked away, fighting to control tears.
A fresh wave of despair washed over Maan. The sweet anticipation of fathering a child had been replaced by sheer devastation that affected not only him, but his grandmother.
How much more could he take?
---
Later that evening, the shrill ring of Maan's phone snapped him out of slumber. After Daadi left, he had downed several glasses of wine and fallen asleep quickly.
He had dreamt of a playground, where he was pushing a child -- his child -- on a swing set. Even in dream, his heart was full with joyous wonderment as the little one squealed in delight.
"'Lo?" Maan answered groggily.
"Maan, hey!" It was Farah, whose tone revealed that she was smiling. "Wait, sorry . . . did I wake you? I was just calling to make sure you knew the assignment for next week."
At the sound of her voice, a picture from Farah's photo album flashed in Maan's mind. The one with her brother-in-law posing with his newly-adopted son.
"Mmm-hmm, thanks," said Maan absentmindedly. Something was taking root in his chest . . . what was it?
"Sure," said Farah. "Sorry to have bothered you. Talk to you later."
"Wait." Maan chewed on his bottom lip. "Listen, um . . . do you mind giving me the number of your sister and brother-in-law? I have some questions for them about something." Maan then realized what had been planted in his chest. Hope.
Chapter ThirteenPresentWind and rain whipping forcefully around her, Geet jabbed the doorbell of the Khurana mansion. Monday, the day of Geet's run-through as Riya's babysitter, had arrived with a ferocious thunderstorm. A few blocks away, trees had almost been uprooted. Geet's umbrella had flipped inside out several times on her way from the chapel to the bus stop, where she had then hopped on a bus to Maan's house.
The heavy double doors opened to show Maan carrying Riya, who was wearing a red dress with black polka dots.
Geet's breath caught in her throat at the sight. She remembered the candle she had lit at the chapel, and squeezed her fingernails into her palm. *You can do this,* she coached herself silently. Maan opened the doors wider to allow Geet's entrance, the wind howling behind her.
"Hi, Miss Geet," Riya said softly.
Maan snapped his head toward his little girl, stunned that his normally shy daughter had been the first to offer a greeting.
"How are you, Miss Ladybug?" Geet asked brightly, tugging Riya's sleeve.
Riya giggled, then buried her face in Maan's neck.
"Good afternoon," said Maan, relieving Geet of her raincoat and purse. "It sure is pouring out there, isn't it?"
"It is, Professor." Surreptitiously, Geet glanced up at the second floor and caught sight of the door to the study. She hoped to accomplish her plan very soon. If, of course, she didn't faint first. Despite constant mental preparations and visits to the chapel nearly every day for so long, unease was a steadfast, unwelcome companion.
"Even the thunderstorm we had a few days ago wasn't this severe," Maan commented. Thunder boomed, the lights flickering. Riya let out a yelp.
Maan patted her back. "It's all right, sweetheart. We're prepared." He nodded toward a bulky flashlight that sat on a shelf in the foyer. At just that moment, the lights died and the house was enveloped in darkness.
"Daddy!" Riya screeched, and began to cry.
"Oh no," murmured Geet. She herself hated the dark, and could only imagine Riya's fright.
Maan clicked on the flashlight. "I've got you, my love," he soothed. "Shh."
Geet tried to think quickly. "Don't cry, sweetie. This is an adventure!" She looked up at Maan. "Professor, we need chairs and sheets."
---
"Do you run a sleep-away camp when you're not working in the library, Miss Geet?" Maan asked dryly, the top of a sheet brushing against his head. Geet had convinced Maan to gather four tall chairs in the middle of the living room. Draping large bedspreads on top of the chairs had formed a tent. Geet had then placed the flashlight, a few of Riya's toys, and a plate of cookies from the kitchen inside the tent.
Riya had eagerly scampered inside, pleading for Maan and Geet to join her. Maan, who was not nearly as amused by the makeshift tent as Geet and his daughter, was nonetheless grateful for Riya's shift in mood.
Geet shook her head at her boss's question and smiled at Riya, who was happily munching on a cookie and playing with a set of dolls.
Maan watched the young woman observe his daughter. The shadows that played across Geet's face couldn't hide the warmth and delight shimmering in her eyes. He forced himself to look away.
Maan cleared his throat. "So, Miss Geet. Why don't you tell me about yourself? Do you currently live with your family?"
The glow in Geet's eyes vanished immediately. "No."
"Oh. Where does your family live?" Maan asked, frowning.
Geet pulled Riya into her lap. "How was school today, Miss Ladybug?" she asked, tickling Riya's sides.
Ordinarily, Maan wouldn't let someone duck his questions. But as he watched his normally-reserved Riya chatter away about her day, he kept his mouth shut.
---
Twenty minutes later, as the rain continued to pound against the house, Riya had fallen asleep in Geet's lap.
"Where is your family?" Maan inquired softly. Maybe now he could learn more about the woman who would potentially watch his child.
Geet met his eyes. Her expression was a curious mix of defiance and melancholy. "Where is Mrs. Khurana?"
Maan raised an eyebrow, half-irritated and half-impressed at her audacity.
Perhaps it was the sight of Geet tenderly cradling his daughter, perhaps it was sitting in the improvised tent that provided an intimate ambiance. Whatever it was, Maan felt the urge to answer. "I've never been married," he said lowly. "Riya has never met her mother. It's always been just me and my daughter. I prefer it that way."
"I see," Geet murmured. "Riya is certainly attached to you. And her eyes look just like yours." She gently traced Riya's eyebrows. Something tugged fiercely at Maan's heart. He studied Geet's face, the beam from the flashlight illuminating her smooth cheeks.
As if sensing that she was being watched, Geet looked up to see Maan staring at her. Her throat suddenly felt parched. Even in the dim light, his handsome, arrogant features were in clear focus.
"I think you should take Riya to bed," Geet breathed, swallowing hard. She felt the oxygen rapidly escape from the tent.
Maan jerked his head back, as if snapping out of a trance. "Uh -- yes, good idea." He reached for his daughter and climbed through the makeshift tent flaps, Geet close behind.
The two adults faced the windows. The rain was coming down in angry sheets as lightning streaked across the dark sky. The entire street appeared to have lost electricity, and trees were wavering in the wind.
"I don't think it's safe to drive you home," Maan observed. He paused. "I have a guest bedroom if . . . if you would like to stay there for the night," he offered, rather uncomfortably.
"That would be very nice of you, Professor." As she thanked him, Geet could taste triumph and sorrow. Triumph because she knew that the plan could be accomplished tonight. Sorrow because she had to make the plan at all.
---
Thank you for reading.
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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