Mom has had three orders for cakes following the open garden day and is busy baking. I go next door to see Nav, but he is out with Devi, and I sit instead with Mrs. Gayatri for a while and talk.
“The open garden day was wonderful,” she says. “I know the idea was yours—thank you so much. And I am so happy that your health has improved so much.”
“So am I,” I tell her. “I still have to be very careful not to overdo it. I hope I’m going to be able to cope back at school. I’m getting better now, but I might get worse again. You never know with ME. I’m worried—but I’m also happy.”
“Yes—you must be careful, but you are so different from when you first brought that package to me.”
“Your life is so different, too,” I point out.
She smiles. “Yes—I just had the birds to keep me company then,” she says, nodding. “I am so happy to have Devi back in my life—and of course Nav, too. The stroke was a shock, but I am much stronger now, and, if it hadn’t happened, maybe I would still be alone.”
She says she’ll get Nav to knock for me when he gets back. I go home and I’ve only just taken off my shoes when the doorbell rings. I can’t wait to tell Nav all about Reema. I open the door—and nearly jump in the air. I am so shocked. It isn’t Nav. It’s Marek!
“Marek! Mom! It’s Marek!”
“Hi, sis!” he says, wriggling out of his backpack and dumping it with a thud in the hallway, before throwing his arms around me.
“Not too tight!” I tell him as Mom rushes out into the hall. She’s swearing in Polish.
“Oh, Marek!” she cries.
He lets go of me and hugs Mom.
“I thought it was time to come home,” he says.
“Come—sit in the kitchen. Have some cake! Tell us everything,” Mom demands.
We sit and listen while Marek tells us funny stories and asks us what we’ve been up to. I tell him about the open garden and about Reema.
“So good that you’re not stuck upstairs anymore,” he says.
Mom tells him how her cake business is starting to take off.
“I’m so happy you are home,” says Mom. “But what are you going to do now? Will you go back to college?”
“Mom—I don’t want to,” he says, shaking his head. “I hated it there. It wasn’t right for me.”
“Your dad won’t be happy,” Mom says, sighing.
“Will he throw me out?” Marek asks. “I know how much I’ve disappointed him.”
“He wants the best for you, that’s all,” says Mom. “If you don’t go back to studies, what will you do?”
“I know what I want to do,” says Marek, “but I need to talk about it with Dad first.”
* * *
None of us are sure how Dad will react to Marek being back and we all hold our breath in trepidation when he comes through the front door later.
Mom rushes out to greet him. He suspects something immediately.
“What’s going on?”
“Look who’s here!” Mom says softly.
Marek steps out nervously from the kitchen. I am right behind him.
“Hello, Dad,” he says.
Dad stands openmouthed. For once he says nothing. He seems lost for words.
“I’m back,” Marek tells Dad.
“What for?” Dad asks gruffly. “You’re returning to college?”
“No.” Marek shakes his head.
“What you back for then?” Dad demands. “Money?”
“No, Dad—I want to work with you.”
“With me?” Dad is openmouthed once more.
“Dad—I know you’d like me to study, but I want to learn a trade and work with you at the same time, like an apprentice. Maybe plumbing or something like that.”
“This is what you want?” Dad repeats, looking bemused.
Marek nods.
I am still tense, waiting for Dad to explode. I sense Mom is the same.
“Okay,” says Dad, slapping Marek on the shoulder. “Then that is what you will do.”
“Really, Dad?” Marek asks.
“Yes, son,” says Dad.
Nav is here. I’m on a high about Marek being home. Nav is still on a high from the success of his open garden day.
“So many came—we raised money for such a good cause!” he says. “Maybe one day I will have a garden at the Chelsea Flower Show! What do you think?”
“Anything’s possible!” I agree.
He smiles. Then he kisses me gently on the lips, and I feel a rushing sensation, as if the blood is suddenly whizzing around inside me.
“You know what? This has been quite a year,” he says. “So much has happened that I never imagined—meeting Nani, moving here, a new school, the garden.” He pauses, then reaches out to touch my arm. “Good things, but ordinary things. But you—there’s nothing ordinary about what you did. Even with your illness, you saved a girl from slavery.”
I picture Reema—her sad face at the window and the contrast with her vibrant, hopeful eyes when I went to visit her.
Nav’s hand is so soft on my arm.
“With your help,” I whisper.
“Her life is so much better now,” says Nav. His hand slides down and squeezes mine gently, “and yours is about to get better, too.”
“You mean going back to school?”
“No—not that.” He grins. “I mean because of the hot guy next door! I mean you and me—us!”
“Oh—that!” I laugh, and I lean forward and kiss him softly back.