Page 12 of Adrift

“No. Not with your mom. With your nephew.” She smiles, her beautiful white teeth gleaming against her dark skin and beautifully glossed lips. “You know one-year-olds don’t have normal ‘milk diapers’?” My nose wrinkles at the thought. I hadn’t thought about that. I’ve only changed Arman’s diaper once when Karine brought him over, but it was just a pee one. “My sister told me her one-year-old poops like an eighty-year-old man with indigestion from eating lasagna with spicy arrabbiata sauce.”

“That’s disgusting.” My nose wrinkles further, and I hear Bella gag in the backseat. “I thought you weren’t trying to change my mind.”

“I’m just keeping it real with you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not going to be my Arman. His poopy diapers are going to smell like the sea breeze and lavender.”

Both Bella and Melody burst out laughing. “Oh, you poor thing. You are going to have such a rude awakening.”

“Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll do it because it’s him.”

Melody and Bella exchange a mischievous look in the rearview mirror, and I raise my eyebrows, silently asking them what it’s about when Melody answers, “You’ll do it because it’s Arman, but you’ll also do it because his dad looks like he should be modeling men’s underwear.”

I glare at my best friend and her implication that I volunteered to help Darian for any nefarious or insincere reason. But as Bella giggles, Melody continues, unperturbed, “I mean, the man could be a Grecian god. Like freaking Poseidon, the god of the sea, if he were a bit hairier in all the right places. You know what I’m sayin’?” Melody whistles, making Bella collapse in a fit of laughter.

I laugh, but I also roll my eyes in annoyance. “Shut up. You’re so stupid.”

“Girl, I’d let that man glide through my rapids any time of day, if you get my gist.” She smiles at me with maniacal trouble written all over her face. “Especially if my V-card was on the line like yours is.”

“Oh my God!” I backhand Melody’s bicep with my wrapped hand and immediately wince while Bella wipes happy tears off her face in the backseat. “You are so over the top. My V-card is definitely not on the line.”

“Well, it needs to be.” She tries to give me a serious look but fails miserably when a giggle slips through. “With that man, it needs to be.”

I roll my eyes, huffing out a laugh. “You are so inappropriate. I don’t know where to even begin, but let me start by reminding you that he’s my brother-in-law!”

“Brother-in-law, schmother-in-law,” Melody mocks. “It would be one fucking gray line I’d cross over, again and again.”

Bella chimes in, egging Melody on further, “I mean, we totally picked up that vibe you were putting down in the lobby. I saw you checking him out.”

My mouth hangs open. “Me? I was putting down a vibe?”

“Yeah!” She smiles and it’s all mischief. “I’ve known you practically my whole life, and I know when you’re crushing on someone—”

“I am not crushing on Darian, Bella.” I emphasize as many words in that sentence as possible, feeling all my defenses rise a thousand feet in the air. “What planet are you on? I didn’t even know it was him in the lobby.”

I can’t believe I’m listening to this right now. Is she for real? That is the most preposterous thing that has ever come out of her mouth. I am positive that after I left the river, Bella rolled over and hit her head on a big rock.

And honestly, now that I think about it, so what if I think Darian is good looking? Are brother-in-laws off-limits to even be appreciated from a distance? Why is it considered so untoward of me to think my brother-in-law is a handsome man?

I bet if my sister were still alive and we had a better relationship–any relationship at all–I could give her a high-five and tell her she did well for herself. I wouldn’t think she’d find that perverse or forbidden.

“Who knows . . .” Bella continues, shrugging while Melody whistles a nautical tune in the background, “maybe everyone will benefit from this arrangement–Arman, Darian, and you.”

* * *

“So, how was kayaking?” My mom scrutinizes me sternly across the table before gesturing toward the bowl of potato curry. The watch on her wrist clinks with her bangle, making a tiny metallic sound, and I can’t help but note how the room is always charged with tension whenever she’s in it. “Ramesh, can you pass me the sabzi?”

My dad wordlessly hands her the bowl of vegetables cooked with Indian spices before going back to his meal. His eyes are withdrawn behind his black-rimmed glasses, his silence even more pronounced over the past year.

I know my dad never agreed with the way things went down between my sister and my mom all those years ago. Maybe for a time afterward, he thought they would patch things up and pull through. But as the years went on, and neither one of them backed down, he lost a part of his heart. He even tried convincing my mom to let things go, to be bigger than her ego, but with one sharp, unwavering glare from my mother, he fell silent.

And he’s been relatively silent ever since, speaking only when absolutely necessary.

Bella, sitting next to my mom, gives me a meaningful look across the table before pursing her lips to hide her smile. I almost kick her in the shin but decide it’s not worth the effort. Since my aunt–my mother’s sister and Bella’s mom–Jaya masee is an ER doctor and often ends up working late into the evenings, Bella often eats dinner at our house. Bella’s dad passed away a few years ago, and with their house being only a couple of streets over from ours, I try to call my cousin over as much as possible.

She also helps to reduce the tension since my mom seems to be a little less critical whenever she’s around–not that Mom holds back the underhanded, snide remarks she thinks I can’t understand.

After Sonia left, Bella’s been more like a sister to me than a cousin, and since she has no siblings of her own, I know she feels the same way about me.

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