Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
INDIAN AUNTIES ARE SOjudgy, Anjali thought to herself as she looked towards where her mother, grandmother, and two aunts were standing in the doorway of her new apartment, discussing and not so subtly estimating how many other Desi people lived in this neighborhood.
"Judgy, judgy, judgy," Anjali muttered as she slowly moved the last box up the stairs.
"Who's judgy?" Her seven-year-old son, Samson, asked from where he was walking in front of her, his amber eyes inquisitive.
"Pati, great Pati and your aunts." Anjali replied, her eyes still on the trio of women gossiping, "You ready to see our new home?"
"Can I be the one to unlock the front door this time?" Samson bounced with excitement as he talked and Anjali took the lanyard from around her neck with a free hand.
"Yeah!" Samson cheered before running past the group of women and Anjali smiled as well, before taking a deep breath.
"I don't like this place," Anjali's grandmother, Dipti, said as soon as they stepped into the apartment.
"Me either. Too noisy and I looked up the crime in this neighborhood, it's worse than at home," Her youngest aunt, Parvati chipped in while her oldest aunt, Raya, simply took a distasteful scan around and then stepped closer to the group as if she thought her sisters and mother would protect her from the dust.
"I can't believe you and Sammy are moving. And so far away, kanna!" Anjali's mother, Saanvi, complained as Anjali put the box on the ground and then wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
"Mom, we're not far. Harlem is just across the bridge." Anjali chuckled.
"And who's gonna help you with Sammy? If you get caught up at this new job, who's gonna babysit?" Saanvi continued.
"My schedule is supposed to be more flexible so hopefully, no one." Anjali stepped in front of her mother just in time to spot the half-concerned, half-disapproved expression.
Clearly, this is not what her mother wanted to hear.
Anjali sighed before sliding her hands into the back pocket of her jeans, "If I really need help again, you and Dad are just across the bridge and if you two are busy then Sammy has a second set of grandparents and an aunt. But if they fall through then Miya is always itching to come help."
Saanvi shook her head, still not liking Anjali's answer but stepped around her to speak to her sisters and mother, "I wanna bless this place before we leave." The quartet switched to Tamil as they moved to the kitchen.
"Mommy, I want the biggest room!" Samson bellowed from one of the bedrooms. Anjali began to stroll toward his voice, "You can't have the biggest room, kanna."
She pushed the door open to see her son sitting on top of her already set up king-sized bed, "This room is for me, but I promise your room is just as cool. You got a dinosaur bed."
Samson narrowed his eyes a little, "Is it a T-Rex?"
"Of course! They're the best dinosaur!" Anjali answered and Sampson grinned, "You're right, my room is cooler," Then he frowned, "So we're not gonna live with Pati and Tata anymore?"
"No, it's just gonna be me and you." Anjali brushed away a loose curl away from the tips of his eyelash and then kissed his forehead.
"We still get to visit right?" Samson inquired as he jumped down from the bed.
"Of course," Anjali confirmed, "Knowing your Pati, she's probably gonna be here every weekend just to see you."
"Anji! We finished blessing so we're gonna leave!" Anjali's grandmother called out, "Before traffic gets bad."
"Okay! Sammy, go and say goodbye." Anjali said absentmindedly.
As soon as her son left the room, Anjali flopped backward on the bare mattress and inhaled another deep breath, probably her millionth since she had woken up today.
There was a few moments of silence after Samson had closed and then locked the door before the boy broke the stillness.
"Mommy! What's for dinner?" Samson yelled from the barren living room, "Can we get McDonald's?"
Anjali released a pained chuckle before getting up, "Yeah, as a treat! Put your shoes back on."
"Woohoo!" Samson cheered and she could already imagine his usual fist bump.
A few hours later and once she was sure her son was fully asleep and sated from french fries and chicken nuggets, Anjali closed her new bedroom door and opened the flaps of a specific cardboard box. She began to unpack and unpack until she had made a makeshift altar on the windowsill stacked with framed pictures of her son's father, a small vase full of a mixed bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots, and nine white candles.
Once the altar was finished, Anjali sat down on the hardwood floor, clicked the candle lighter on, and patiently lit each candle to further light up the room.
"Whew. Okay. Hi," Anjali breathed, "Today was absolutely crazy." She directed her words to her favorite picture of her and Mateo, the off-guard one of them, he was in a high school graduation robe, and her arms were around his waist but their eyes were on each other, not the camera.
"My mom... She was on one today, Matty," Anjali laughed, "I forgot how she gets around my aunts sometimes because she's so cool and rational the other 70% of the time, you know?"
As she continued to speak, the air in the room around her grew warm, almost like a hug, "I picked Harlem like we always talked about. This neighborhood has a really good school system for Sammy and he's about to enter second grade. I'm thinking about entering him into a sport in the winter so he can make friends easier... I think he'll like football like you did."
Anjali reached one hand inside her shirt to press her palm over the name script necklace that held his name, "There's this amazing park about two blocks over, I think I'll take him over there this weekend or next before it gets really cold and he won't want to. I know-." Her voice broke and Anjali drew her eyes down to her socks.
"I know that you were the one to always take him so it's probably gonna be weird in the beginning but..." Anjali paused once more at the prickle of tears in her eyes.
"Damn it, Matty. Why did you have to go?" Anjali conceded to the tears, letting them flow from her tear ducts and down the length of her face.
In her head, Anjali began the silent prayer to God or Ganesh or whoever and whatever was up there, to bring back the love of her life.
I would do anything, give anything, please. Just please.
But as usual, she received no answer because he wasn't coming back no matter how hard and long she prayed.
