Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 20 - Khushi's Babuji

The women were already busy after lunch. Khushi was making sweets in the kitchen, and Garima Aunty and Buaji were bustling around, preparing to go next door to do whatever mysterious work needed to be done before weddings.

"We won't be able to take Shashi Babua outside today," Buaji said mournfully as she picked up several bags. "There is so much work to do."

"I'll take him," Arnav said, looking up from the pot plant he was watering. "I can drive to a park; you all carry on."

Everyone stared at him. Khushi's loud cooking noises in the kitchen stopped abruptly.

"What?" he asked, and then quickly added, "I won't stay out too long, I promise. The weather is nice too. And it's going to get noisy here; it will be nice to... I mean, er—should I take something? Does uncle have to get ready?"

"Just change his kurta; I'll do it," Garima Aunty said, her eyes aglow. "Thank you, son."

They were ready in less than five minutes. He held the door open as Garima Aunty wheeled her husband out, with Buaji and Khushi following.

Arnav had brought the car to the gate. He lifted Shashi Uncle out of the chair and into the front seat. After strapping the seatbelt, he took the folded wheelchair from Khushi and put it in the back before turning to them.

"Phone me if you have any problems, son," Garima Aunty said, touching his arm.

"Don't worry, aunty, it will be fine."

"Call her Amma," Khushi said loudly. He ignored her again and, shrugging off the current of irritation he felt, got into the car and drove off.

It was a companionable silence between him and Khushi's father as he navigated the narrow streets of Laxminagar and the wider roads of Delhi, heading for the lake at Raj Ghat. It wouldn't be crowded on a weekday afternoon.

He wondered if Shashi Uncle was a talker ordinarily. Somehow he thought not—their silence felt comfortable, not awkward. He wondered what the man would have said if he knew everything that had happened between his daughter and the man she was married to.

"Khushi is angry with me," Arnav said, deciding to be the talker. "It was my fault. But I didn't mean to—I'm trying to make it up to her."

He glanced over at Shashi Uncle and saw that he was smiling. "I will do my best to keep her happy," he added lamely. Enough talking for now.

He drove carefully, and when they arrived at the park, he unfolded the wheelchair before lifting his father-in-law out of the SUV and placing him in it.

They made a wide arc through the park, Arnav wheeling Shashi Uncle along the lake. It was peaceful. He was hanging out with a Gupta, and no words were spoken. Arnav chuckled.

Sashi Uncle heard his quiet chuckle and turned his head sideways, as if to ask about it.

"Nothing, uncle. I was just thinking about how much Khushi talks," Arnav said. "Sometimes I think she can't stand not talking; it's like a compulsion for her to say something. If she's not talking to me, she's talking to herself or Devi Maiyya, or to Laxmi—Nani's pet goat."

Maybe she was rubbing off on him, all this idle chatter.

"But sometimes, I feel like I don't know her at all. When you get better, I'll ask you all about her. I can't figure her out by myself, and sometimes even when she's talking nonstop, I feel like I don't know what's on her mind..."

He thought Shashi Uncle nodded, and they resumed their silence.

They returned after about two hours.

Khushi had called in between, twice, to ask if everything was okay. He had to assure her that everything was fine, that her Babuji wasn't too hot, there wasn't a big crowd to bother him, and yes, Arnav would remember to give him some water.

Still, Khushi ran out of the house when he pulled up at the gate.

"Babuji!" she exclaimed, opening the passenger door the minute Arnav had parked, sounding as if her father had been rescued from a kidnapping.

"Move aside, Khushi," Arnav said irritably. "Take out the wheelchair."

She set it up beside the door. Arnav lifted Shashi Uncle out, careful not to bump him against the door frame, and placed him in the chair.

As he leaned down, Shashi Uncle twitched his hand and touched Arnav's, which had been an inch away. Arnav looked at his father-in-law, who smiled at him and gave his hand the ghost of a squeeze.

Khushi, who had been watching with an unreadable expression on her face, followed them into the house.

"You look like you had a good time," Buaji said to Shashi Uncle as Arnav wheeled him inside.

"You must be tired, son," Garima Aunty said. "Go rest now; I'll bring you some tea."

"Oh no, aunty, I'm fine—" Arnav began, but Khushi cut in.

"Just call her Amma!"

Arnav clenched his jaw, and letting Garima Aunty take over the wheelchair, began to head to Khushi's room.

"You call Buaji Buaji. Why can't you call Amma Amma?" Khushi said, following him.

He ignored her, but she grabbed his shoulder. "Just say Amma; it will make her happy."

"Khushi," he said warningly, shrugging her hand away.

"Just say Amma once; try it."

"Enough, Khushi!"

A ringing silence followed. He had yelled at her in front of her whole family. He didn't care.

"My mother is dead."