BooksBarbecue
Back Side by Side Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Half Title Page
  3. SIDE by SIDE
  4. Dedication Page
  5. Epigraph
  6. Part I: Fall
  7. 1.
  8. 2.
  9. 3.
  10. 4.
  11. 5.
  12. Part II: Crawl
  13. 6.
  14. 7.
  15. 8.
  16. 9.
  17. 10.
  18. 11.
  19. 12.
  20. 13.
  21. 14.
  22. 15.
  23. 16.
  24. 17.
  25. 18.
  26. 19.
  27. 20.
  28. 21.
  29. 22.
  30. 23.
  31. 24.
  32. 25.
  33. 26.
  34. 27.
  35. 28.
  36. 29.
  37. 30.
  38. 31.
  39. Part III: Rise
  40. 32.
  41. 33.
  42. 34.
  43. 35.
  44. 36.
  45. 37.
  46. 38.
  47. 39.
  48. 40.
  49. Acknowledgements
  50. About the Author

An unforgiving chill hollows her out. She hugs her stomach, cold, empty. These attempts at reaching out always have a cost.

She came today hoping for a hand to hold. What she didn’t expect was another dead limb. Another sign her problems aren’t the world’s. Another confirmation it is better—safer—not to speak about these things, with anyone.

28.

Kavita huddles on the sofa beneath her ivory throw with Coal curled on her lap, sipping a cup of ginger tea and watching the snow fall like shaved ice thickening the air. Daylight wanes. Soon the streetlights will flick on. She never accustoms to seeing their scalene triangles of orange light before five o’clock.

Before settling in with her cup, she had the impulse to call her home, only to remember there was no one left at home to call. Within the last couple of weeks, her parents have departed in search of their new lives, in a kind of reverse empty nest syndrome. Each of them called once to let her know they had arrived safely at their destinations. Her father told her not to expect to hear from him any time soon, he needed to cut his attachments to the outside world, and besides, talking at the abbey was frowned upon, it was a place of inner reflection, a sanctum. The few times Kavita tried reaching her mother, the connection was either terrible, or she was out visiting relatives.

Nirav will arrive home in another hour or so. She has already prepared dinner, vegetarian shepherd’s pie—one of his favourite meals even without the mince—and left it to warm in the oven. The meal wasn’t entirely innocent. Weeks have passed since their trip to London, with neither resurrecting the incident, but tonight she hopes they will finally talk, and if mashed potatoes and gravy can help soften him up, even a little, it will have been worth the effort. Anyway, she has to try. She vowed on the moon.

A few times she came close. She even made chicken parmesan once although the smell made her retch. She practised what to say, scribbling out lines and rehearsing them aloud in front of the washroom mirror until they felt natural. Despite all her preparations, in the end the words never made it beyond her tense lips.