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Always Kiss The Cook

PLEASE READ: Some of you here know about Varsha's reason to not having indulged in painting for quite a few years. I haven't revealed it in the story, yet. Please do not let it out in the comments.

I had to change Vinod's name to Ashwin due to some personal reasons. Please bear with the name change. Thanks to Sukeer for suggesting an alternate name.

That is all. Thank you!

18. Always Kiss The Cook

"Dera, don't go further."

He craned his neck towards Himani, at the cautionary tone that'd come his way. She waved a hand at him, pointing to the spot in a closer vicinity. "Come back here and go potty," her tone was alarming, "it's too dense in there."

Himani called out to him, to wise him up, as he eagerly capered through a jumble of creepers and bushes, sniffing, and evaluating if the spot was pertinent enough for him to poop.

Dera cast her a meaningful but languishing look in the sideways, as he stood rooted to where he was. And then the apprehension loomed over her—she was not supposed to watch when he was trying to go potty.

Himani plucked the roll of newspaper tucked under her arm, muttering, "Oh, sorry. I am not supposed to look." With a remembering quirk to her shoulder, curling both of her palms around the roll of newspaper, she spun on her heel, showing her back to him. "I am not watching now, go potty." Her voice came out in a meek, mumbling appeal, as Dera dipped his back to do the needful.

While Dera was at it, Himani had walked away a little more. There wouldn't be a need to pick up his poop since he was already doing it in a jumble of greenery.

She waited a few steps away from him, one of her feet tapping on the concrete pavement impatiently, the newspaper roll curled in her freely dangling right hand, patting the sides of her right thigh absent-mindedly, her eyes taking a haphazard jaunt around her.

The sky was graced with timid dashes of sunlight coming through the clouds in quiet, serene motion in contrast to the dawning bustle in the road, in front of her—with the milkman distributing milk packets to houses in and around the area, the newspaper guy flinging the rolled newspaper into the gates not minding the wet floor, women of different age from most of the houses, and men from trifling amount of houses were sweeping the front of their houses, and scrooched down drawing kolam.

However cheerful it was, Himani's heart was not in the state to delight in it.

When she woke up this morning, it was a beautiful day to take part in a business meeting, and then spend the rest of the day with the guy she was in love—who'd now prattled an unmindful 'I love you' at her, in his sleep—and the kids.

And it was no more the same just another day, now that she'd paid heed to his hushed, half-asleep blithering. She drew in a shaky, lengthy, exasperated inhale and blew it out through her slightly trembling, parted mouth, intending to clear up her rattled mind before she got back home.

Whilst Dera jogged up to Himani, upon finishing his business, a bitsy smile broke out on her face taking in the evident relief on his face. "Job done?" she asked him, with a slight head tilt, looking down at him. Dera looked back at her blankly. "Come, let's go home."

On their return, the housing board unit had begun to bestir. Blotches of middle-aged people and senior citizens had begun to briskly walk down the lane with vigorous wavering to their hands. A vegetable vendor sauntered down the lane, pushing his well-used wheelbarrow brimming with brilliantly colorful vegetables, and leafy greens that made Himani regret her decision of not carrying her wallet to the poop walk.