Page 23 of Adrift

My eyes slide down to my lap. “Yeah, I know.”

“He’s lonely and stressed, and I don’t think he’s sleeping much, either. I see it written as clear as day on his face. I’m glad he took your offer to help him but,” she shakes her head as if giving up, “I still worry about him.”

As if his ears were burning, the backdoor to the patio opens and Darian walks out. His eyes find mine before they drift to his mom. “Worry about who?”

Karine gets up, holding Arman, who is anxious to get out of her hold and into his dad’s. “You!” Karine admits, handing Darian the baby before kissing her son on the cheek. “I’m worried about you. You work too much and don’t seem to be taking care of yourself. Look at those dark circles under your eyes. Darian jan. This is not how a thirty-two year old should look.”

Darian sighs, giving Arman a kiss on his temple. “I’m fine, Mom. The past couple of weeks have just been more hectic than usual with us preparing for the kayaking tournament. Plus, I’m still trying to get our website updated and the showers renovated.”

“When is the tournament?” I ask, getting off my seat as well.

“Early August. There’s just a lot to do by then.”

“Is there anything I can help with? I’m pretty familiar with website design, and I can help with marketing for the tournament, if you still need that.”

Darian grimaces. “I can’t ask you to help with any more than you’re already doing for me, Rani. It’s not something you need to worry about.”

“But you’re not asking me; I’m offering. If you need an extra pair of hands to update your website and get things ready for the tournament, I can always help while Arman is napping.”

“I’ll think about it,” Darian says, turning toward the house with Arman in his arms.

“Don’t be so rigid, Darian jan,” Karine calls out. “Take the help where you can.”

I rush behind Darian and grab his elbow. It seems like the only way I can get his full attention is when I cross our physical barrier. And I definitely have his full attention now.

When he turns toward me, I raise my chin and try not to cower under his penetrating stare, even with my heart rate picking up. “If you don’t want my help for free, then give me a part-time job or an internship. I could use it to build my resume, and you’d get what you need. It would be a fair trade.”

His gaze steadily holds mine before it lands on my hand on his elbow, and I remove it quickly. God, I wish I could tell what he was thinking. It’s so unfair that he gives nothing away through his almost expressionless face.

His voice lowers, almost inaudibly, but I hear it loud and clear, knowing his words will repeat in my head relentlessly through the night. “Let’s get one thing straight. Nothing about this–nothing about you–has been a fair trade.”

* * *

My eyes fly open, searching in the dark, when I hear Arman’s soft cry. Over the past week, he’s slept through the night, but I noticed he was a little fussier during dinner tonight. Maybe he’s going through a growth spurt. I’d read about them when I was researching baby milestones earlier.

I fling the blanket off me and adjust my thin tank top strap back on my shoulder before getting out of bed. Rubbing my eyes, I tap on my phone to see the time–it’s three twenty-four in the morning. Pulling my door open, I walk through the dark hallway toward his room, which is illuminated by a small giraffe nightlight.

Arman pulls himself up in his crib, showing me his gums and that one top tooth in a massive, heart-melting grin. “Mas!”

He and I have been working on him calling me masee all week. He hasn’t quite perfected the word, but nonetheless, it makes my heart flutter whenever I hear him call out to me.

“I’m here, little man,” I whisper, lifting him out of his crib and giving him a kiss on his cheek. His diaper is heavy and it appears to have soaked through his pajamas. “No wonder you couldn’t sleep, sweetheart. Let’s get you changed.”

“Mas.” He grabs a hold of my curls before palming both my cheeks and bringing my entire face to his, placing a happy open-mouthed kiss near my nose.

My chest heaves at the sweet gesture, making my eyes prick with tears. How the hell am I going to leave this baby after the summer? I’m already falling in love with him so hard and fast, I don’t know how to control it. “That’s right,” I choke out before clearing my throat. “Masee.”

After changing him and putting him in a new pair of pajamas, I try to put him back in his crib, but his grip is so tight around me that he won’t let go. I even try finding him a new plushie from his bin to sleep with, but he throws it across the room, refusing to go into his crib. Even in the dim lighting, I can see his face turning red.

“Okay, okay.” I yawn, taking him to the rocking chair. “One song and then you’re going to sleep, mister. Okay?” No matter how firm I think my voice sounds, it melts as soon as I hear him giggle. A thousand kisses won’t be enough, but I place one more on his chubby cheek. “My little monster.”

I sing softly, rocking him as he buries his head under my chin, holding on to a lock of my hair while his white rabbit plushie sits on his lap. I’ve sung the same song–Stay Awake from Mary Poppins–to him since the first day I was here, and I know there’s something about the words and the tune that help him relax.

Maybe he can hear his mother’s voice through them.

Maybe she sang this same song to him when he was in her womb as she did for me on so many nights.

I remember how I’d insist on watching a scary movie with Sonia and pull her arm over me like a blanket during the scariest parts. When the movie was over, I’d beg her to tuck me into bed. I still remember the feel of her fingertips as she glided them over my forehead softly, foregoing her own sleep to make sure I could find mine. Her raspy voice would float through my room as she sang the words, while I envisioned Julie Andrews–Mary Poppins–putting the boy and girl from the movie to sleep.

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