Sophie wants to put her arms around Vijay and offer him the love and comfort he hadn’t received from his parents. They are two orphans, bound by blood, and she feels an instinct to protect him. They both lost fathers they loved. They both grew up without their mother. Their circumstances were so different and yet so similar.
“Have you kept in touch with him? Mathieu?”
Vijay scoffs. “Never seen him since we moved here. Don’t know where he is, and don’t care. Simon’s the only dad I need. And I’ve got Grams, so I really don’t need anything else.”
Sophie looks around the room. “This does seem like a great family and good place to grow up.”
“It was better than where I was, that’s for sure.”
Sophie realizes that behind his blasé, carefree demeanor is a very emotionally mature man. One who struggled and saw more adversity in the first few years of his life than she has seen in all twenty-eight years of hers. It was naive of her to think she could protect him, because he has already learned to protect himself and has been doing it for far longer than Sophie has. He has been forced to develop a perspective that she is only now grappling with. There is quite a lot that she can learn from this young brother of hers.
“And Simon and our mummy? They were friends?” she asks.
“Yeah, I guess so. I remember Dad always being around before she died. He brought me toys from California a couple times. Maman always said he was a nice man and I should learn those qualities from him.” He fidgets in his beanbag. “Truth is that after she died, I could tell he didn’t like talking about it. We moved here so Grams could help out, I think. Dad might not have been ready to have a kid when he ended up with one.”
Sophie smooths the comforter beneath her. “Did you ever wonder about your other family? The side from India?”
“Dad and Grams became my family. I didn’t need anyone else, so why bother wondering about it?”
Sophie tries not to appear wounded. She cannot fault Vijay for not feeling the same way about her that she does about him. He still has family. He’s not as desperate for a connection as she is.
“Now that you do know about me”—she tentatively meets his eyes—“I hope we can get to know each other more. There are relatives in India—”
He holds up a hand to stop her. “Look, I kind of said before that I’ve got all the family I need. Maybe you’ve got better memories of Maman than I do, but either way, I said goodbye to her and everything that came with her a long time ago, and I don’t see any reason to go back.”
Sophie inhales sharply as the only family she has left tells her he’s not interested in having her in his life.
“Okay,” she says softly before rising from the bed. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.” With her hand on the doorknob, ready to pull it open so she can leave, she turns and says, “Did you keep anything of hers?”
He stands. “Just this old painting my dad had.” He rummages around in the closet and produces a dusty canvas with an oil-painted image of Sophie as a child with Nita. The painting is of a woman and child looking in the mirror. In the mirror’s reflection, the child is seated at a vanity table, running an oversize brush through her hair and looking up at her mummy, seeking approval, like she’s trying to make sure she’s doing it correctly. Sophie’s heart warms at realizing that ritual she shared with Nita was something she never forgot either. Sophie still feels closest to Nita when brushing her hair at night. Looking at the painting, Sophie feels like Nita felt the same way and that after she went to Paris, when she brushed her hair at night, she thought of Sophie.
“You can have it if you want,” Vijay says. “My dad loved it, but it’s just been sitting in this closet since he died.”
Sophie shakes her head. “You keep it. I’ve got some of her other paintings being shipped to me from Paris.”
Sophie doesn’t need it. She is going to continue living that image every night and every morning, just as she has for the last twenty-two years.
“It’s of you, isn’t it?” he asks.
She nods.
Maggie is sitting at the kitchen table when Sophie emerges downstairs. The two women meet each other’s gazes, and Sophie tries not to look away. She’s afraid her emotions are written clearly on her face, and her Indian instincts are to hide those feelings from the rest of the world. Yet she does not want to do that now. She feels a kinship with, and gratitude for, Maggie, the woman who helped raise her brother and give him a happy home.
“It seems like he has had a really good life here with you,” Sophie says, fighting back her tears. “I’m sure our mummy would have been grateful for all you’ve done for him.”
Maggie crosses the kitchen and puts an arm on Sophie’s shoulder. “We love him very much. But remember that he’s a twenty-one-year-old boy, and sometimes they struggle with adult situations. This is a lot for everyone to take in.”
Sophie manages a half smile, knowing it’s not easy for her at twenty-eight years old either.
“Simon always said things in Paris were hard,” Maggie says. “We missed him so much and were so thrilled when he came home with Vijay. But that was a hard adjustment for such a young child, especially one with such a tumultuous life leading up to that. Those things stay with you, no matter how far away you go.”
Sophie nods, knowing how much the loss of Nita affected her. “Yes, it’s hard to lose your mummy at such an early age, but I’m glad he had such a good father. It looks like we had that in common. I wish I could have met Simon and thanked him for all he’s done.”
Sophie feels an almost maternalistic pull toward Vijay. Family has been such a bedrock for her because Nita left when Sophie was so young, and Sophie then clung dearly to those who remained. Now she feels herself clinging to Vijay and wanting to take care of him as she would have if Nita had ever made it back to Ahmedabad. She knows that’s what Nita wanted for Vijay, and, despite everything else, part of her heart is drawn to fulfilling Nita’s last wishes for her son. For Sophie’s brother. They are family, and Sophie will always see him that way.
Maggie looks wistful as she says, “Simon had a heart of gold. You would have liked him. And I’m sure he would have liked you too.”
Sophie looks around the kitchen and into the living area. Both spaces are warm and well lived in. However his life started out, she knows he ended up in a happy home. Sophie wants nothing more than to build a relationship with Vijay and live out the childhood that Nita had wanted for them both before she died. She can imagine years of running around the bungalow with him and conspiring against their mother and Rajiv in the way that only siblings can. She had been envious of her friends and cousins, who all had siblings. As devastating as it is to know Vijay doesn’t want her in his life, her older-sister instinct has already kicked in, and she wants to do what is best for him. At the moment, that is letting him process these life changes in the way that he needs—even if that is without her. Even if that means their paths never cross again.
“Would it be okay if I leave you my contact information in India, just in case Vijay changes his mind?”