by Alisha Rai
“He can call me Livvy,” she replied, not for the first time. It felt odd to hear the kid call her “Aunt.” She and Sadia had kept in contact more than she had with any other member of her family, but that didn’t mean she knew Kareem beyond photos and videos. Before this week, she’d seen him exactly three times in his life. He’d been a newborn the first time, a toddler the second, when Sadia had traveled to meet her in Manhattan for a weekend, and she assumed he’d been too tired and confused at his dad’s funeral to remember the third time.
“He’ll address you with respect,” Sadia said firmly, then came close to pull Livvy in for a hug, which Livvy returned a little awkwardly.
It was odd adjusting to being around someone who didn’t hesitate to touch her. She hadn’t known how much she craved that kind of casual physical affection. She was a loner by necessity—it was hard to make friends or form lasting attachments when she was constantly on the road.
Livvy held on a beat longer than she needed to, only because she knew she could. At Paul’s funeral, her mother had carefully stood on the opposite side of the grave. It had been Sadia who stood next to Livvy, arm wrapped around her shoulders. She didn’t know who had been giving who comfort.
“Aunt Livvy,” Kareem mumbled, then skirted around her to continue to his grandmothers. He launched himself at Maile, who had thankfully placed her coffee down first. She gave him a fierce hug, squeezing until he wriggled free. With no sign of reticence, he flopped on the couch next to Tani and curled in close to her side. “Hey.”
“Kareem,” her mother said, and there was a fraction of genuine warmth and happiness in her voice.
“Be careful not to jostle Grandma,” Sadia cautioned her son. The boy gingerly readjusted himself next to the older woman, taking exaggerated care not to move her. Sadia hitched the large tote she carried up higher on her shoulder. “Hello, Aunt Maile. Mom.”
“Hello. My goodness, Sadia, you look lovely today. Doesn’t she look nice, Tani?”
Tani spared Sadia a quick glance. “She looks the same to me.”
Sadia smoothed a hand over her round hips and maintained her smile. “Thank you, Auntie.”
Livvy gritted her teeth. No, she would not be jealous that her mother had made a passive-aggressive barb at another woman instead of her.
Pathetic, party of one.
“I brought over some sandwiches and those quiches you like from the café.” Sadia patted her bag.
“Oh, how nice,” Maile said. “We were just wondering what to do about dinner.”
And there was probably a nightshade and dairy-free sandwich in there for her mother. Because Sadia’s been here while you’ve been gallivanting all over the world.
Funny how the critical voice in her head sounded like Paul.
“I’ll go put them away,” Sadia said.
Livvy jumped up. “I’ll help.” Sadia didn’t need help, most likely knew this kitchen as well as her own, but she’d take any opportunity to spend some time with her best friend. Sadia was always either working or with her son. Livvy’d barely seen her since she came home.
Sadia placed the tote on the round kitchen table and pulled out a smaller bag. If Livvy peeked, she’d probably see a number of pouches inside the huge tote, along with notebooks and pens. Sadia was ruthlessly organized. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing food over. We had some excess from lunch.”
Sadia operated Kane’s Café now, the place established by Livvy’s paternal grandparents. Robert had liked to joke he’d had his eye on Tani his entire life—a reference to the café’s location, right across from the original C&O store.
Her father had willed the local landmark to Paul directly, so Tani hadn’t been able to sell it when she purged the company and the house from their lives. Running a single café instead of a grocery chain had been a step down for her brother, but it seemed he’d been able to pull a tidy living together for their family.
She hadn’t been back to see Kane’s yet, though she had fond, warm memories of the place and her grandparents. It was one thing to deal with her mother and family. It was quite another to deal with . . . well, everything else.
Not all painful memories were created equal. And she wasn’t convinced confronting each one would be to her benefit.
Like Nicholas.
Or the café. Because if she went to the café, she’d have to see the flagship C&O. Or rather, Chandler’s, the building that had replaced the original after the fire.
“Please, how can I mind you bringing us ready-made food?” Livvy accepted the heavy bag and walked it over to the fridge. “I feel like I should be feeding you, though. You’re always running around.”
“Aw, don’t worry about that. I grabbed a sandwich before we left the house and made sure Kareem ate. He’s in this phase where he mostly survives on peanut butter and pickles and pizza.”
“You raising a kid or a pregnant woman?”
“I’m raising a pit. A bottomless one. Thanks for letting him stay here for the afternoon.”
Livvy shut the refrigerator door, then moved back to the sink. “No problem.” She was apprehensive about babysitting the kid herself, but Maile and her mother were here, and apparently they took care of Kareem quite a bit. Besides, she figured if she didn’t swear, drink, or let him do either of those things, she should be okay.
She poured her coffee into the sink and grabbed a sponge. Doing dishes as she used them felt weird to her—allowing them to pile up was more her speed—but there was no doubt something a little satisfying about having an empty, gleaming, stainless-steel sink.
Sadia pulled a planner and pen out of her bag and dropped into a seat at the table, stretching her long legs out. She flipped the book open. “So my sister will pick Kareem up at 6:30, okay?”
“Which sister? The doctor?”
“Haha. Very funny.”
Livvy grinned and scrubbed her mug. All four of Sadia’s sisters were either in medical school or physicians. “I try.”
“It’ll probably be Noor.”
“Sounds good. Are you working ’til closing?”
“Yes. We have a barista out sick. But then I have a shift at the bar, so Kareem will probably end up staying at Noor’s ’til late.”
Livvy shot a glance over her shoulder. Sadia was jotting something down in her planner, giving Livvy a chance to observe her. There were half-circles of exhaustion under her best friend’s eyes. Sadia never discussed finances, but Livvy’d assumed things were, if not great, at least manageable. “I didn’t realize you were still pulling shifts at the bar.”
“Part-time.” Sadia closed her planner with a snap. “It keeps my bartending skills sharp. You need something to fall back on.”
Sadia’s tone was light, and Livvy couldn’t detect any hint of a lie. Still, she pressed. “You’re doing okay with the café, right?”
“Sure.” Sadia raised an eyebrow. “A more important question is, are you doing okay with Mom?”
Sadia calling their mother “Mom” had given Livvy more than some comfort over the years. Paul hadn’t wanted to talk to her and Jackson had been mostly unreachable. It had felt like she’d had a real sibling. “Yeah, sure. I mean, we don’t talk much, but then, she’s never been a talker.”
“A person doesn’t need to talk much to be difficult.”
Livvy grimaced and started cleaning out the French press. “Ugh. Sorry for what she said out there. You look fabulous today, and you always look fabulous.”
Sadia huffed out a laugh. “You caught that, huh? Don’t worry about it. Your mother is in the minor leagues for backhanded insults. Last time I saw her, my mother asked if I wanted Noor’s old clothes. Her maternity clothes.”
Livvy groaned. “Oh God, Mama Ahmed, why.”
“Because she is who she is,” Sadia replied prosaically. “Can’t change that. Can only accept it.”
“Saint Sadia.”
“Hardly a saint.” Her chair scraped against the tile. Sadia got up and came to stand next to
her at the sink. She grabbed a sponge and began efficiently cleaning up the coffee grounds Livvy hadn’t even noticed on the counter.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind. Let me help.”
Livvy placed the carafe on the drying rack. “You’re always helping. You’ve been here for years taking care of Mom. I haven’t.”
Sadia stopped cleaning. “Hey. Did you hear that?”
Livvy listened for a moment, but all she could hear was the muted T.V. show, punctuated by Kareem’s high-pitched chatter. “What?”
“That shirt you just put on. All that hair is so loud.”
Livvy’s lips twitched. “Shut up.”
“You left for your own reasons, good reasons. I don’t blame you a bit.”
“Paul did.” Livvy winced. “Sorry.” Though they’d shared a lot over the years, they’d tacitly agreed the second Sadia had started dating Paul that her role as Livvy’s best friend would be separate from her role as Paul’s significant other.
“Paul blamed a lot of people for a lot of things,” Sadia said, breaking the rule herself. “I know he was hard on you. I tried to convince him to give you a break, but I’m afraid I wasn’t successful.”
Livvy had barely talked to her brother since the day after Kareem’s birth, when she’d driven in to see the baby and he’d confronted her in the hospital hallway. Mom’s getting older, and I’m the one who’s been stuck here taking care of everything while you’re gallivanting all over the country having fun. Grow up, Livvy.
Paul hadn’t seemed to grasp Livvy wasn’t wandering around aimlessly with the family fortune backing her. She’d traveled because . . . well, because she had to, and she’d worked her ass off, more often than not in menial jobs that her childhood of comfortable wealth hadn’t exactly prepared her for.
She wasn’t sure what her big brother had wanted of her. To stay here and occupy the same role she’d been raised to play from birth, even though their roles had been eliminated?
She supposed it didn’t matter. It was too late to ask him. “Thanks for trying to change his mind. It’s not your fault he considered me some sort of flighty playgirl.”
Sadia made a dismissive noise. “I don’t think you were wrong to leave, and I think it’s incredibly brave of you to come back right now.” Sadia rinsed the sponge in the sink and dried her hands. “And you never need to feel guilty about anything I choose to do. Paul may be gone, but you’re still my sister, and Tani’s my mother.”
“Ah, there it is,” Livvy said dryly, in an effort to hide the lump in her throat. “Perfect Asian daughter-in-law sense of responsibility.”
Sadia snorted, but she sounded amused. “Lord knows, I’ve been neither the perfect daughter-in-law or the perfect daughter.”
In her worn jeans and soft T-shirt, no one would guess Sadia had grown up rich. Not as rich as the Kanes or Chandlers, but her parents were both successful cardiologists, which was how they’d been able to afford to send all five of their daughters to the same private schools Livvy had attended.
Sadia’s family hadn’t had a problem with her dating a man who wasn’t Pakistani or Muslim—but they’d had serious opinions about her quitting school and marrying a man who was no longer heir to a fortune. Sadia and Paul’s elopement had driven a wedge between her and her family, though they’d softened since Kareem’s birth. Livvy dried her hands as well. “You’re perfect to me.”
“Same.” Sadia faced her, leaning against the sink.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She meant to say thank you, but instead she blurted out, “I saw Nicholas a few days ago.”
Sadia’s nostrils flared. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do I need to kill him?”
Livvy gave a half-laugh. Standard. Her friend was forgiving when it came to slights against herself, but hurt a person she loved? She’d pull a knife. And she didn’t even know about Livvy’s and Nicholas’s unconventional arrangement over the years. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”
“There’s many reasons you love me. Shall I? Kill him?”
“No.”
“Stab him non-fatally? Trip him? Let me trip him.”
“We were bound to run into each other sooner or later.” She repeated the words she’d said to herself for the past few nights as she tossed and turned in her bed. Bound to happen. Like the inevitability of the situation made it any easier or better.
Bound to have your heart ripped out eventually.
“Probably,” Sadia said gently. “But that doesn’t make it any less difficult, I’m sure. I always get a little kick in my gut when I see Nicholas, and I didn’t have half the investment in him you did.”
Livvy shifted. “You see him?”
“Of course. I don’t speak to him. Paul would have gone through the roof if I had, and I’m not sure what I’d say anyway. But I’ll see Nicholas or Eve at the grocery store occasionally.”
Livvy raised an eyebrow. “You shop at Chandler’s?” She tried to keep the accusation out of her tone, but she wasn’t sure if she entirely succeeded. Nicholas couldn’t ever be seen at a competitor store, which meant if Sadia was seeing him at a grocery store, it was their grocery store.
No, it wasn’t theirs. It was his.
Sadia met her gaze without flinching. “Yes. Paul forbade it, but once—well, I started shopping there. Of course it hurts, every time I step into that place. But at the end of the day, Rockville is my home too. My son’s home. They have the best prices and quality and I’m not feeding my son anything but the best simply because of my pride.”
“Right, of course. I’m not blaming you.”
Sadia regarded her without a shred of anger. “Despite my choice in grocery stores, I’m still more than willing to maim or murder Nicholas for how he dumped you.”
Livvy tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob. “The decision to end our relationship was mutual.”
“Honey. I was there.”
“Well.” Livvy wiped her hands on her jeans, like she could wipe away the past. “It’s been forever. I’m over it, and so is he.” So many lies. “He seeing someone now.”
Her friend pressed her lips tight. Livvy waited for Sadia to tell her it was silly to be upset by that, or ask how the subject of who he was dating had even came about. Instead, she took a step closer and pulled Livvy in for a hug. “I’m sorry, baby. That rat bastard.”
Livvy rested her head against Sadia’s chest and breathed in deep. She wrapped her arms around her friend and relaxed, marginally. “He is a rat bastard, isn’t he?”
“The rattiest bastard.” Sadia’s hand smoothed over her back.
Livvy didn’t care if she was acting childish or needy. She simply absorbed the physical affection like a starved flower absorbed the sun. “I hate him so much.”
“I know.”
“His girlfriend is probably the worst.”
Sadia hummed. “I’m sure she’s the most terrible human on the face of the planet. Like, animals can sense how evil she is.”
Livvy choked out a chuckle and disentangled herself from her sister-in-law. “Poor Nicholas.”
Sadia squeezed Livvy’s shoulder. “Let’s not go that far.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“You will.” Sadia’s tone was firm. “You’re here. You’re trying. You’re going to be fine. Promise.”
There is nothing wrong with you. You’re fine. Livvy smiled mechanically, hiding her disquiet.
Not well enough.
“What’s wrong?” Sadia asked.
“Nothing.” Jackson hadn’t been good at comforting words, but he’d been the only one who’d witnessed her struggles when they were young. He’d always fallen back on a few key phrases.
She’d appreciated the sentiment, but the words hadn’t helped. On the contrary, they’d only made her feel more pressure to pretend she was fine. “The way you said that. For a second, you reminded me of Jackson.”
Sadia’s lashes lowered. “Does he e
ven know Tani was in the hospital?”
“Yeah. I emailed him.”
“Maybe he didn’t get it.”
“I’m sure he got it.” He just didn’t want to come home. Jackson hadn’t even attended Paul’s funeral, though she didn’t want to remind Sadia about that.
“How do you know?”
“He responds to my emails occasionally.”
Sadia frowned. “What email address do you have?”
Livvy rattled it off. She memorized things that were important. Like Nicholas’s number. And her only link to her twin brother.
Sadia blinked. “I’ve emailed him there. He’s never responded. Not once.”
Oh. “Emails get lost.”
Sadia nodded, but strain had appeared around her eyes. “I sent more than a couple. But that’s fine. No big deal.”
It didn’t sound like no big deal. Livvy knew Jackson hadn’t maintained his ties to anyone but her, and then, only in the most cursory ways, but she hadn’t realized Sadia had tried to reach out to him. “Do you want me to tell him to contact you?”
“Uh, no. That’s fine. I don’t know what we’d even talk about, it’s been so long.” Sadia shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “In any case, if he doesn’t respond when it comes to his brother’s death or his mother’s illness, he’s certainly not going to pick up the phone because you told him to chat with me.”
Livvy winced. She wanted to defend Jackson, but she wasn’t sure how. He should have contacted Sadia when Paul died. Especially if the woman had tried to contact him.
“Mom! Can I have chocolate milk?”
“Of course,” Sadia called out and strode to the fridge. “Can you go on out there and check on things while I make Kareem some milk?”
Livvy suspected Sadia wasn’t really concerned about how her son was faring with his grandmothers, but she respected giving people their alone time when they needed it. “Sure.”
In the living room, Aunt Maile was busy at work knitting, and Kareem and Tani’s heads were bent over something.
“Draw me another one, Grandma,” Kareem demanded.
