know her name was actually Alia? But everyone always knew about the ouma in Eden Road and that’s how she became Ouma Edie. The one in the green scarf at least stopped whispering long enough to take the cup of tea I handed her.
I hid in the bathroom for a long time after that. Checked my messages from the other side.
08:00 AM Dirk: Are you all right? Please let me know if I can come?
11:00 AM Di: How are you?
11:05 AM Shelley: So sorry to hear about your granny and about Dirk, that sucks. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you. xxx
12:00 PM Lily: Want me to come? Let me know.
12:05 PM Dirk: Are you all right? I’m guessing your hands are full and you don’t need me there? I will wait for you at home. xxx
I replied to the LSDoK group.
12:15 PM Kari: Hey guys, sorry so quiet. Am in a twilight zone, ask Di about it. Can’t talk but hoping to go back to Di’s later tonight. Xx
I sent it, wondering how weird it was to be able to say so little using so many words.
12:17 PM Di: Come any time, will keep supper for you.
I avoided Dhanyal. It had been easy to do since the men and women were mostly separate, as was customary at funerals. I’d seen him greeting all the other men, and I knew he’d seen me, but we hadn’t said a word to each other since last night’s phone call. I was standing next to Shireen when he marched up to us. From nowhere to right in my face.
“Find a place and sit down. Tell her if you need something done. All this time on your feet is bad for the baby.” He barked this at his wife, not looking at me – even though it was clear that her was me, trying to hide right there in plain sight. I needn’t have bothered. His words did make me take a proper look at Shireen as he stomped off. She wasn’t just older and rounder than when I’d last seen her ten years ago. She was older and rounder and pregnant. Very pregnant.
“Nearly eight months with a boy,” Shireen said apologetically when she saw me staring at her. “Dhanyal is just worried. He is very excited to have a boy, so he is nervous now, nothing must go wrong. You know how it is, a man always wants a son, and I tell you: I’m so glad this time it’s a blue baby blanket. I got lucky.” She rubbed her stomach, looking at me with tired eyes. “I’m thirty-eight this year so it’s my last chance. Already in the hospital twice, not like with the girls when there were no worries. This one, he is different, giving me troubles already.” Her voice trailed off as her eyes sought out Dhanyal in the crowd of men on the other side of the room. To think all that was hidden under her burka and I hadn’t noticed until Dhanyal made me look.
Later, when the house was nearly empty and I was ready to leave, to slip out into the dark without greeting anyone but Shireen, Dhanyal caught me, stepping in my way just as I reached the front door.
“Not so fast, Karima,” he said. “I want to make sure you understand something. You’ve seen Shireen and Mama.” He glared red swollen eyes at me. “They won’t cope with everything here. They need help. I can’t be here in the day, and it’s all women’s stuff in any case. It’s your turn now. You must come to stay and help them. Maybe five, six weeks out of your life, then the forty days will be over and Mama’s leg will be better and Shireen’s mother will be here. You owe it to Ouma and to Mama to help. Time for you to be a grown-up.”
My brother stared me down, daring me to disagree. This is the way Dhanyal always makes things happen. He doesn’t ask. There is never a question. He knew how to get me. Siblings are eternally expert at each other’s soft spots. Dhanyal knew when he’d made his mark. I was nodding my agreement before he even stopped talking.
7
From Dhanyal’s house I drove back to Di’s kitchen. I was the only common thing in these parallel universes, and I didn’t feel like the same me. I sat at Di’s kitchen counter again. Same as the night before but different. The kitchen was spotless – not a thing out of place. Alan and the girls were away, this time sleeping silently somewhere. There was red wine in big glasses. My face was wet. My bum wasn’t. But I was still a wreck. And instead of just Di, now the whole of LSDoK were perched on bar stools around the counter. Sorry for me. I hadn’t expected all of them – suppertime was long past but they’d waited anyway.
“Oh my God, Kari. What a totally terrible Valentine’s Day.” That was Shelley. How was it that only a few hours of being called “Karima” made “Kari” sound odd? Ouma would hate me being called Kari. She always said, “The name your parents give you is precious, Karima. It’s the first gift you ever get. And your name even means precious!”
But Karima doesn’t feel right any more. I am Kari. I like being Kari.
I was glad to be back but hell I needed to sleep. It got to a point where I couldn’t reply I was so tired. I just smiled a small smile back at Shelley, then fixed my eyes on the wine glass again. The red wasn’t so bad.
“How did it go? With your mother? And your brother? Tell everything! How did it feel staying over there?”
Shelley asked one question after the other without waiting for me to answer. She always says she can read colours and auras which, I imagine, is an unexpected but useful skill in a decorator, but sometimes she can be altogether friggin’ blind. I was wholly incapable of talking but she waited, her bright blue eyes staring at me. I knew Shelley wouldn’t stop until I said something. At least she hadn’t asked about Dirk. Yet.
“My brain is so full, Shell. So much happened and nothing happened. I’ll tell you the whole story again . . . They made like it was normal for me to be there,” I said eventually. But everyone here knew it couldn’t have been normal and everyone there had known it too. I tried to give Shelley something but I didn’t know what else to say. “I did what my sister-in-law Shireen said I must do, mostly serving tea and food to all the people,” I said.
I kept quiet about what that one aunty had whispered to the other. There were too many questions Shelley could’ve asked after that.
“How are things going with those new clients of yours? The ones who moved here from Joburg?” Lily asked Shelley, taking pity on me, giving us all some respite from my silent self. Owen, the “o” in LSDoK, said nothing as the rest chatted on. Our brother-from-another-mother just sat quietly next to me, one foot resting next to mine on the steel bit of my bar stool, as if to make sure it wouldn’t suddenly fall over. It helped in an odd way, his foot holding my bar stool down. Owen can talk. I’ve seen him at work in full sales mode, after all. But he only got a small “o” because, while we love him, he doesn’t talk nearly as much as the rest of us about the things that matter. Otherwise, he is the best boy-friend you can have. He isn’t gay (why do people think only gay guys can have girl-friends?), so if you ask he can tell you honestly if your bum looks hot or not, and he doesn’t drink too much, which means he can hold your arm steady if you need it. He is smart (can check your alarm is working when your husband is away), and he is cute but not too handsome so we can pretend he is one of our husbands if we need to and the husbands won’t get pissed off. He has guy friends but he doesn’t drink enough or watch enough sport to be just one of the boys. Owen is dating Lauren, a super-duper-bitch-on-wheels of a lawyer who travels a lot, so he reckons all our chat is research into the creaky wheels of a woman’s mind. Lauren never tells him anything, so we help him make up what she thinks. Apparently the sex is amazing. Doesn’t matter. We do love Owen. I really should suggest we upgrade him to a big “O”.
“Have
