Page 19

ARUSH

My phone says it’s almost fifty degrees outside already this morning.

It took me some time to get into the fahrenheit meaning of temperature but when all the world around me is talking in different terms, I decided I needed to get on the same page.

I’m excited for the warmer weather. After staring at the trees through the panels of glass in the condo, I decide that maybe the wind isn’t as brutal as it has been and I can brave some fresh air.

I choose one of Julian’s hoodies from the closet and pull it over my head.

With my mug of tea, I step foot outside on the balcony for the first time.

Somehow, the view looks different. It’s more expansive.

There’s something that feels more real about it now that there isn’t a thick wall of glass separating me from the world outside.

There’s a small table with two chairs here so I take a seat to enjoy the view. The air smells cool but I swear, I can smell buds on it. Like the flowers are trying to poke out of the ground. Is it time for that? We’re not quite into April yet.

I bring my knees up and rest my chin on them as I look at the world around me.

I can see a park not far from here. It’s about the size of my hand when I hold it up so it’s not super big.

The trees and ground look like mud but there are patches of green here and there.

Also, a small hill of dirty snow. At least I think that’s what it is.

I close my eyes and tilt my head up to feel the sun on my face. It’s definitely not hot out by any means, but when the wind isn’t blowing, I can feel the sun trying to warm the world around us.

There are birds, I think. They’re quiet, so I don’t think they’re incredibly close, but I can hear something that sounds like whistles. I’m not a bird expert, but I would definitely classify that sound as a singing bird.

Setting my mug of tea on the table, I pull out my phone and capture a few pictures of what I’m seeing.

There’s a wall to the right where the neighbor’s balcony is and I try to keep that from the view.

It’s a modern foggy glass panel, so it matches the rest of the building.

Not the ugliest thing I’ve seen, but like everything else in the condo building, it lacks personality.

I send the pictures to my friends and then think that maybe my father would like to see them, so I text them over to him as well. Within minutes, my phone rings and I smile to see my father’s face flashing up at me.

“Hi, Dad,” I greet when I answer.

“Hello, Arush. What is the view that you sent me?”

“That’s the view from the balcony. It’s not freezing today, so I thought I’d sit outside. It’s really pretty, so I wanted to share.”

“It is beautiful,” Dad agrees.

“Julian says it’ll get prettier in a month when the trees begin to bud. And prettier still as the summer gets here.”

“Very good. Where is your partner today?”

I sigh. “He just left for Ottawa. Canada.”

“Ah. More hockey.”

“Yep. He’ll be gone for a week.”

“I do not like you spending so much time alone.”

“It’s not my favorite thing,” I admit. “But his season is almost over. The last game is on April eighteenth. Then he doesn’t go back to hockey until September.”

My father hums. Though maybe that’s a grunt. “You’ll get married this summer.”

I sigh. “I don’t know, Dad.”

“You’re still not rushing,” he notes.

Grinning, I shrug, though I know he can’t see me. “Dad, what if I don’t want to get married? What if I don’t want to have kids? What if I like the way things are right now?”

“Is this you talking or Julian?”

“Me.” I’m not actually sure what Julian wants. I’m assuming he wants to get married. Male Order Spouse is for finding a husband, after all.

“Are you telling me that’s what you want?”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “No. I want to get married,” I admit. “But I don’t think I want kids. And I do like the way things are with me and Julian right now, which is why I don’t want to rush it.”

“Americans take a long time to wed,” he comments.

Laughing, I shake my head. “Americans don’t typically have arranged marriages, so they go through the dating scene, then engagement, which, according to the television, can be like six to twelve months before their wedding.”

“I see. And this proves successful for marriages?”

“No,” I say, still laughing. “I looked it up, actually. It’s 40-50% for their first marriages and even higher for second marriages.”

“I think you should follow the Indian way of marriage,” Dad says.

I grin. “Me too. But I want to marry this American, so we need to compromise on some things, you know?”

“Compromise is good in most cases, but make sure you’re not always the one compromising. It’s not a compromise if you’re the one sacrificing, Arush.”

“You can’t think bad of someone you don’t know,” I defend. “I haven’t compromised on anything at all.” Which I think is pretty true. “Julian’s even been learning to cook Indian food for me.”

“I see. He will not compromise on a wedding this summer?”

Sighing, I open my eyes and look around, trying to make him understand. “Dad?—”

“Let me confide something to you,” Dad says, and I hear a door closing in the background.

It wasn’t loud where he was before, but now it’s silent.

“When I was young, I wanted to travel the world. I wanted to see everything. Visit every continent. Try foods from around the world as they cook it. Experience different cultures. I wanted memories to tell my children one day about all the adventures I had.”

Knowing my dad, I can see that he’d had that dream. But as far as I know, that didn’t happen.

“My father came to me between university and graduate school with my proposed wife, and I gave up that dream to start my family.”

My stomach sinks.

“I don’t regret that decision at all. I love your mother with all my heart and you kids are my entire world. But I do have a regret. Do you know what that is?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“That I didn’t adapt that dream to the new path of my life.

I still could have done all those things, but brought my family with me.

I didn’t realize this until you were ten or so, and started taking my family on adventures abroad.

But I lost a lot of years thinking I had to make a choice between worldly adventures or my family being my adventure.

My regret is that I didn’t start our adventures right away. ”

I smile, resting my chin on my knees again.

“I’m telling you this because I want you to think about how you can adapt your dreams so that you can keep them and still have your husband and the family you want.”

“Dad, what if I don’t want a family? Are you going to be upset with me?”

“Why don’t you want a family?” Dad counters.

“There isn’t a reason that I can put words to. All I know is that no matter who has kids—my siblings or my best friend—I always get this feeling deep in my chest that I don’t want that same kind of life.”

“What about your Julian? Does he want kids?”

“We haven’t talked about it yet.”

“Arush—”

I laugh. “I know, I know. It’s an important conversation and we’ll have it, but in my gut, I think he doesn’t want kids either.” Did I make that up? I feel like that’s accurate though.

“Do you know why the practice of arranged marriages is still very common?”

“We like our cultural traditions,” I suggest, making my father laugh. I grin in return. “To ensure the continuation of cultural and social values, preserve family lineage, and secure the family’s status,” I repeat. It’s something we’re taught in school and growing up.

“Yes, all true. I suppose I should adjust the question. Do you know why we’ve adopted self-arranged marriages?”

“In case you choose a dud?”

My father snorts. He actually snorts. “No, child. We know that our methods for building family works. We have history to prove that. But we realized a long time ago—and by we, I refer to the generations before us—we began realizing that maybe our children would like to have a louder voice in this decision as societies around the world began shifting to marrying for love. I can’t speak to all families but I know for our family, the partners that we pick are based on the old ideals, but we also take into account personal compatibility as well.

We want you to be happy. There’s nothing worse than remaining married to someone you grow to despise every day. ”

“So are you failing with choosing Navi’s perfect partner?” I tease.

My father barks laughter again. “No. I’m confident the first match was his ideal partner, something I think he knows. However, like you, I think he doesn’t want to fall into line with how we’ve always lived, but unlike you, he’s not ready to talk about it.”

“Do you think he doesn’t want to get married at all, or maybe it’s just the kid thing, like me?”

“I’m not sure,” Dad says thoughtfully. “I’ve thought about this a lot. What I believe is that he has some semblance of a plan underway and eventually, he’ll tell us what’s going on, though he’ll be able to spin his inability to find his ideal partner as a means of proof to support his goals.”

“I feel bad for the girls.”

“Don’t be. After he rejected Anshu for a very weak reason, we decided we were going to play his game for a while since he said he wanted us to try again and choose a different partner. Now, the girls are on board and know exactly what’s happening.”

“You’re sneaky.”

“I can play games too,” he says proudly.

I laugh. Honestly, if I were to have children, I’d want to be just like my father. I’m really not sure there’s a better father out there.

“All this conversation to tell you that I want you to be happy, but I don’t want you to be the only one compromising.

That’s not a knock at Julian. As you pointed out, I do not know this young man.

But I do know you. Make sure when you’re having these conversations—and you need to have them, Arush—that you’re making it clear what you want as well.

What you want is equally as important as what your partner wants. Understand?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling. “Thanks.”

“What will you do this week without him home?”

I shrug. “The same things I’ve been doing, I guess.

There’s a gym downstairs and a pool, so I spend some time exercising.

There’s an older couple who likes to walk their cat outside and they’ve been inviting me along when they know Julian is away.

I spend some time talking to my friends and I watch Julian’s games on the television.

I read and check out different engineering jobs in an attempt to decide what I want to do. I’m entertained for the most part.”

I can tell by his tone that he’s not happy with this still. “I don’t like that you’re alone for a week.”

“It’s temporary,” I tell him. “If he’d be staying in one place, I could go. But he bounces around. This time he’s going to Ottawa and from there to Philadelphia and then New York before he comes home. Three stops in seven days, which he says is a more relaxed schedule than some he’s played.”

“This sounds taxing.”

I grin. “There is a lot taxing about hockey. You should watch some games. India has an up-and-coming pro-hockey league that I only learned about after Julian told me what his profession was. Check it out and then we can talk about it.”

“I will do that,” Dad agrees.

I grin because I know he will. We talk for a while longer as Dad tells me about the rest of my brothers and sisters, my mother, my nieces, and nephews, and I fill him in on the gossip that Ellie and Paul share with me, which I find super funny how invested he is in it.

Then again, maybe he’s just enjoying our conversation.

Either way, when the call ends, I feel good about having talked to Dad about maybe not having kids.

Out of curiosity, I open the MOS site and navigate to Julian’s profile.

Sure enough, that’s where I’d gotten the idea he didn’t want kids.

It’s not that he doesn’t want them. It says, and I quote, “I could take them or leave them.” To me that reads that he doesn’t particularly want kids.

I nearly jump out of my seat when a face pops up over the privacy wall to my right. “HI!” they shout. Then they proceed to laugh as I try to right myself, my heart beating wildly in my chest as I stare at them.

“Hi,” I say cautiously.

“My name is Skylar. Pronouns—she/her/they/zolcorus.”

I blink. “What’s a zolcorus?”

“Well…” she says, tilting her head. “It’s like a genderless unicorn dragon. A hybrid combination, you know?”

I nod slowly. “Okay, cool. I’m Arush.”

“Pronouns?”

Grinning, I tell her, “He/him.”

“Okay, cool,” Skylar repeats. She turns her face up to the sun and sighs. “I’ve been waiting ages for the despian croolgite to pull back the lenizen so I can feel the fingers of the almighty gollian against my cheeks.”

What the hell is she saying? I have no words, so I just blink at her. When I don’t respond, Skylar looks at me and rolls her eyes. “I’ve missed the sun on my skin,” she deadpans.

I laugh. “Yeah, I know. You don’t need to spell it out for me like I’m a rugworm.”

The way she grins at me tells me that the people around her don’t often play along. Before either of us can say anything further, the sliding door behind her opens and she turns her head.

“Get down from there or you’re going to fall to your death,” the man chastises.

Skylar sighs heavily and disappears as the door shuts. But then I see her eye peeking at me from the space where the foggy glass doesn’t quite meet the edge. “Hrolians, right?”

“The worst,” I agree. “Always trying to clip our wings. Obviously, the ramicals of the svink will keep you from falling to your death.”

I can see her grin in response and I smile.

This is how we spend the rest of the morning. We eat lunch together with the privacy wall separating us, talking nonsense that I couldn’t repeat if I tried. As far as days alone go, today has been one of the best.