Page 69 of The Second Marriage

“Well,” he said, trying not to look absurdly smug and probably failing. Hewassmug.

Gurratan’s eyes widened, and then he started laughing. “Your face! I’ve never seen a man look so proud of himself. Is it true, then? He wrote to me that he hasn’t been feeling well, and I did wonder then.”

“Yes, it’s true. He’ll be furious with me for not letting him tell you himself, but as you see, I simply couldn’t control myself.”

“I’ll pretend to be surprised, then, when he tells me,” Gurratan said, and plastered on an expression of bland innocence as Taral came in with the tea.

Taral was cajoled into holding the baby, which despite his protests he did very capably; Sejun had seen him with Iniya’s children and knew him to be both doting and helpful. They drank tea and made the obligatory conversation about Gurratan’s health and that of his family. Ram, it emerged, had gone to the neighboring farmstead to return a borrowed shovel and would be back in short order. Autumn sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled leaf patterns on the floor.

The baby stirred, and Taral hushed it for the moment, but it was clear he would soon wake and want to be fed and enact all the typical baby rituals. Taral glanced at Sejun, and Sejun could feel his uncertainty and excitement, and offered him an encouraging smile.

“I have some news, by the way,” Taral said, and Gurratan sat up straight and looked attentive. “We’re, well—I expect to be delivered of a baby next spring, around the time of the floods.”

“Oh, Taral!” Gurratan exclaimed, and expressed so much happiness and enthusiasm that Sejun nearly forgot he had already known. He made such a fuss that the baby woke up for good, and then had to excuse himself to go upstairs and change its nappy cloth and whatnot.

When they were alone, Taral leaned against Sejun’s shoulder, and Sejun drew him close and kissed his head. Taral hadn’t been so sick as Chimini was with every baby, but he hadn’t been well, either, and Sejun could tell that the long ride had drained him.

“You told him while I was making tea, didn’t you?” Taral asked.

Sejun thought about lying, but Taral would know. He had an uncanny knack for knowing what Sejun was thinking, even without the bond reporting on Sejun’s every intention. “He asked me! He said he was suspicious from your letters.”

“That was kind of him to pretend to be surprised.” Taral looked up at him. “It was sweet how much you wanted to hold the baby.”

“Oh, well—I like babies,” Sejun said, which was less embarrassing than admitting that he was already thinking oftheirbaby, of what it would be like to hold his own child in his arms.

Taral’s eyes creased, as if he knew exactly what Sejun wasn’t saying. He probably did, damn him. “And will you order me to stay in bed for a week, as Ram did?”

“No, I’ll set Iniya on you. She’ll have better luck.”

“My husband,” Taral murmured, and they sat there for a while, warm in the fading light, until Gurratan came downstairs again with the baby.

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