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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

Kavita rises to her feet and fetches a garage bag from the kitchen. Something must be done about them. No one will mind, she tells herself. She hasn’t even seen her parents stop to admire them. Probably because the flowers bother them as much as they do her. They will probably thank her for getting rid of them.

Looming over the dining table, she takes a passive inventory of the assortment of roses and lilies, Gerber daisies, and sunflowers. She knows the flowers are supposed to make them feel better. Remind them that people care. That they are thought of in their time of hardship. But all they do is remind Kavita that Sunil is dead. Isn’t that why the flowers are really there? Because her bother is gone. Well, she knows that already. And she doesn’t need to be reminded by things that are so shamelessly joyful.

With a snap of her wrist, the garbage bag billows. Kavita reaches for the arrangement closest to her. It is an extravagant bouquet of Calla lilies sent from her co-workers. She drops them into the bag without sentiment. Next, she grabs the orange Gerber Daisies sent from Chi. Followed by the sunflowers from her in-laws in London. Then an assortment of carnations. A basket of lettuces and purple cabbage. An arrangement of chocolate-dipped fruit.

Kavita stops noticing what they are, as she tosses them into the bag, one after another, until the table is clear. The one thing she spares is the basket of sympathy cards, filled with sentiments too visceral to read, in case her parents may want to someday, although she doubts they ever will.

Once she declutters the side and coffee tables as well, Kavita pauses, taking note of the weight of the garbage bag, and its inverse relationship with the light feeling that has befallen her. This is the most therapeutic thing she has done all day. The closest she has come to anything resembling closure.

She ties a knot in the garbage bag, hauls it to the garage, and stuffs it into the large black bin. Then she wheels the bin to the curb. In the morning, the flowers will be gone for good.

Back inside, Kavita locks the side door, rests her weary head against it, and whispers, “It’s done.”

Part II: Crawl

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

—Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

6.