I screamed into the pillow that I had stuffed against my face. "Mohi!"
"Stop being so dramatic, girl. You need to get these hairy arms waxed or you will be made fun of."
"Who's going to make fun of me?" I frowned, sitting up and looking at the patch of armless skin. "I don't even go out of the apartment."
"You go to work, don't you? You have to wear those uniforms." She put her hand on her saree-clad hips, grey-streaked hair coiled into a tight bun behind her.
She had a point. Devdasâthe original one, not the remakeâplayed in the background, mocking my pain. "Because of you, I didn't even get to watch the movie."
"Because of you, I had to stop and wax my granddaughter's hairy arms!" I jumped, letting her do the rest. Mohi crouched down to inspect my legs when I tucked my long skirt over them.
"What are you doing? One, the deal was only my arms and two, don't put so much pressure on your knee!"
"If we are doing your arms, we should do the legs, too."
I threw the pillow on the wooden bench in the living room and ran toward our small, shared bedroom in the shabby apartment. I shut the tattered door so she wouldn't follow me and wax my legs. I pulled my skirt up to take a peek and made a face. If I gave her permission, it would be dreadfully painful. I grabbed the copy of The Climb, my favourite book of all time, and laid stomach down on our bed, wrapping the thin, orange blanket over me.
The knock on the door made me sigh. "Let me do those legs," she exclaimed.
"Why should I when I only go out to work and come back home? I don't need to go through unnecessary pain."
"It will make you feel beautiful." I didn't respond to that. Nothing could make me feel that way when I had more pressing matters at hand. "And Dr. Arshan will think that, too."
I put down the book and opened the door, glancing at the front door. "No, he will not. Mohi, he is due to come any second."
"Oh, please, he won't be here in a while."
"He said he was on his way. Do you know how embarrassing it would be if he is right outside that door?"
"Well, you said it was unnecessary, anyway. Who cares?"
I frowned at my grandma who chuckled all the way back to the living room. As much as I loved her, she was my only living relative, she loved to tease me. It wasn't until a few minutes later that the door bell rang and I rushed over. I playfully glared at my grandma and put a finger to my lips to which she responded with a zipper across her own.
I let Dr. Arshan in who smiled at me warmly. He was the only one that ever showed me kindness. But he was a doctor. So I suppose he had to be kind to all his patients. I awkwardly gestured for him and his nurse to come inside, despite them paying my grandma a visit at our house all the time.
He pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, mocha coloured eyes narrowing as he felt the area around my grandma's knee. He muttered something to the nurse beside him holding a clipboard. I sat on the couch beside my grandma, holding her hand. It was just a regular checkup, but my heart thudded in my chest every single time he came over and did this. What if one of these days he'll deliver bad news?
I was never prepared.
"You said over the phone that the pain was sudden?"
I looked at my grandma but feeling a gaze, he had directed that question at me. I startled in my seat. "Oh! Um, yes. She said it comes and goes."
"And how long does it last?"
My grandma said, "I can't say exactly. It is different each time."
Dr. Arshan got her to walk, rate her pain when he squeezed a particular area and then leaned back in the other wooden chair opposite us. The nurse had to stand since we didn't have many chairs. It looked uncomfortable. "Make sure you massage the area around the knee and her calf, as well. The pressure from there as well as her thighs seems to be stressing the muscle."
"What about medication? She relies on it too much," I said, trying to ignore the brief sensation of pain as she pinched my leg.
Dr. Arshan chuckled. "I think your daughter's right with this one, Mohini." He got up. "Try not to rely on pain medication unless you really need it. A few exercisesâwhen Mouna is aroundâand massages should be enough for the time being."
As I paid him and saw him out, I went to go back to our shared room to study when my grandma began her antics.
"Mo." My grandma groaned, rubbing her aching knee. The actors were still on screen crackling with every dialogue, except the volume was turned down very low.
"What's wrong, Mohi?"
"The knee again. It feels like someone's tearing my leg apart."
A small grin shook the corner of my mouth but I kept it down. I got on the floor and massaged the area around her knee, most especially her leg, just as Dr. Arshan had instructed me. After a little bit more satisfied groans, her tense shoulders relaxed back into the wooden bench.
She waved her hand in the air. "Much better. Thank you."
"Don't thank me like I'm your helper." She rolled her eyes and I studied her. "I know that was just an act, Mohi. You can't fool me."
"An act? Pfft. Never!" I tried not to laugh at the way her owl eyes were intentionally trained on the TV.
"Admit itâI know you only fake your pain sometimes to get massages."
"I don't know what you're talking about, girl. Now go do your homework."
I got up. "Make sure you keep your leg elevated and you don't sit in one place for a long time."
"All right, all right. You are so dramatic."
"Who do you think I got that from?" I grinned.
"Your grandfather, probably. That man can fake tears like no one else." I giggled, but the sound was very brief. The mention of my grandpa, and the fact that, like my parents, he had passed on, too, wasn't a very pleasant thought. The only reason I hadn't broken down was that it had been years since I saw them alive. My grandma reached out and grasped my hand, squeezing tightly. As if she knew what I was thinking and feeling. I squeezed back and leaned down to place a kiss on her wrinkled, dusky brown forehead.
"I'm going to go study before I leave. If you need me, I'll be in my room."
"You don't want to finish Devdas?"
"Of course," I said in a voice that meant obviously. "It is our favourite movie! But first, work. Can you wait until then?"
"Did you forget who you're talking to? Of course I can wait. I've done it before." A grin passed across her face and at that, I laughed out loud. My grandma really knew how to make me feel like I was missing nothing.
That there was no void in my life.
"Don't forget I'll be late. Raj wants me to stay a little later than usual."
"But why? The blood moon isn't until next week."
The blood moon wasn't a topic we talked about too much, but my grandma had a fascination with it. Ever since she was a little girl, these were stories that her grandma used to tell her. It was passed down for years, from my mom and now to me. I'd loved it when I was a child.
But now, it just seemed like a fairytale about wishes granted on the rare celestial phenomenon where even the sky turned red. I had never seen it before in my life, but apparently my great grandmother had when she was a little girl.
"There's a birthday party tonight and a customer booked out the entire cafe," I said. "Raj wants us to decorate it and get all the tables ready for the night."
My grandma watched me as I spoke. Sometimes she did that. Looked at me like she could see right through me. "You don't believe it, do you?"
I knew what she was talking about. I turned. "I love hearing about it, Mohi. But it isn't real, even though I would love it to be."
I really did wish it was real. The blood moon's magical powers that could grant any wish for one desperate, but lucky person. A wish only specific to them where they decided whether to live forever in a dream or conquer their unhappiness. It sounded like a tale made for little kids so they didn't grow up wanting things they didn't need.
Still, temporary or forever, there wasn't a day that I prayed that when I woke up, my two jobs and a life I technically couldn't even afford to have was just a dream.
But it wasn't.
It was the reality of life.
***
"Did you clean the tables down?" Raj asked, peering down at the circular, polished mahogany tables.
"Yes, sir. I cleaned the tables and the chairs, too."
"Well, that is your job. I expect no less." Raj hummed dismissively before looking down at his watch. "Make sure the cake and cupcakes are ready. It is highly unusual for cafes on this block to be booked out so we need to make sure it happens more often." I was standing stock-straight beside a woman as short as me and a tall, lanky man. None of us moved. Or breathed. Raj checked us all up and down as if he was eyeing an antique piece on the market.
And he did not look impressed.
"Next time, Mouna, invest in better shoes, please." The contempt in his voice made my intestines shrivel up, especially when I could feel the judgement of my fellow employees boring into the side of my face. Though my jaw clenched, I tried to keep my face as blank as I could.
I couldn't show any sign of emotion. If I said anything, Raj would fire me and I needed this job. Just the factory job wasn't going to pay the bills or my tuition fees or the food we needed to eat.
The door chimed, signalling the clients and my shoulders relaxed. I guessed it was my lucky day. Plastering a bright smile on my face, I watched as Raj ushered the guests inside. Both males and females were dressed casually either in jeans and a nice blouse or tight t-shirts and ripped jeans.
I hurried behind the counter, in case someone wanted to order the specially made cake slices or cookies that we had made just hours before. My hands still smelt like butter and vanilla essence. I had taken the time to craft more chocolate chip cookies than any of the others.
"What would you like, sir?" I asked as a man with a perfectly sculpted face appeared before me.
His cupid-bow lips stretched into a kind smile. "A hazelnut latte would be nice."
"Cominâ"
"And your number, too."
The kind smile that I had assumed it was, now seemed extremely discomforting. I played along, seeing as how Raj was glaring at me from his place in the very corner. Behave, his expression read. 'Customer satisfaction comes first' was the motto after all. I wasn't sure how far I was willing to appease or satisfy this particular customer.
I forced out a laugh. "I have an old phone and I don't use it all that much, sir." Which wasn't a lie. With the small jobs I had, it was the only one I could afford and, as much as it was outdated, I never found the need for a high-end one. Or maybe it was because I never had the opportunity to have a high-end phone.
The man was frowning now. "If you don't want to give me your number, I'd rather you say that than mouth off a sorry excuse."
The atmosphere was dim. I hadn't realised I had insulted him. "Uh, Iâ"
"Can I get my latte or not? I'm missing out on celebrating with my mate."
"Right. Sorry," I mumbled, even though I didn't think I had anything to be sorry for. Customer satisfaction, Mouna, I chanted. Customer satisfaction. "That'll be 145 rupees." Once he handed me the money, I turned and headed to the machine while my other team member went over to the counter to take someone else's order. My hands shook as I placed the lid over the steaming coffee and brought it out to the man. He wasn't looking at me. Only grabbed the coffee and walked off. I stared at his broad back.
I wondered how a man with a pleasant face could have such an unpleasant personality.
"Excuse me, when are you going to bring out the birthday cake?" A tall woman came over, eyebrows deeply furrowed. "We've been waiting for ten minutes, now."
I looked around. Wasn't Raj in charge of that? Currently, he was speaking to another man, gesturing to the displays. "OhâI think it will be out soon. Let me ask."
"You have to ask? Don't you work here, lady?"
"Yes, but I'm not in charge of bringing out the birthday cake. I'll let Raj know and get the cake out to you soon."
"God, this place," I heard the woman mutter as I rushed toward Raj, a deep flush on my face. I stood silently off to the side as I waited for their conversation to finish. Raj glanced at me but then turned back toward the man who shot me a brief smile. After what seemed like ten minutes, they shook hands and the man went back to the others.
"What did you do this time?"
I bit my tongue from asking why he assumed I automatically did something wrong. For some reason, Raj has never liked me. He employed me because I was one of the first people to ask for an interview when this place had just opened. He couldn't say no.
"A lady asked us to bring the cake out."
"Now?" He raised an eyebrow. "The birthday guy's sister said it wasn't until they ate dinner."
"I don't know but that was what I was told."
Raj tried to smooth out the wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. "Point me to who told you this."
I did, and he groaned, a guttural sound that sounded like a whirring of a machine. "I'll take care of this. You go behind the counter and deal with any other clients."
There weren't any after that. They were more focused on eating, laughing and talking to each other about random things. The birthday boyâmore like a manâgrinned and soaked all the attention in. They seemed to be having fun, with no care about the future. I couldn't help but stand behind the counter and watch, even though my co-workers had gone inside the staff room.
I didn't remember my parents much because they had passed away early, but I wished I didn't have any financial issues. Or that my grandma didn't have any problems with her knee. Would I have been happy as these people? The vision of a perfect family caused a deep ache to surge through my heart, pulling at every string that kept the organ together.
The party lasted more than my feet could withstand. Just when I let myself relax and sit down on the small plastic chair kept near the display, people were grabbing their bags and their coats and heading out. Checking my tiny cell phone that I kept in my front apron pocket, the screen flashed '8:12' in bright, white font.
It wasn't as late as I thought it would be since we closed at 9, but definitely a fact that brought a small smile to my face. It meant when I went home, I could watch the movie with my grandma. The thought made me shoot up. I beamed at Raj who yawned and stretched, the material of his black uniform stretching across his slightly protruding belly.
"You don't need to give me that look," he said warily to me. "You can go now."
"Thank you, sir! Have a good night." He only grunted. "I'm going to be taking a few cake slices."
"As long as you pay for them." I did.
I practically skipped out the front doors, digging in the pocket to grab my small wallet. At night, the strip along the cafe and all the other shops were packed with families and friends having a fun night out. The chatter was endless as people bustled past the street stalls set out, smells of ghee and sugar syrup in the air.
I stopped in front of the homeless people that called the strip of pavement behind the stalls their temporary homes. Some had no legs and relied on a makeshift skateboard to move around and ask people for money, others wrapped themselves in thick blankets and called out to people. I hurried over to the lady in a saree and her baby in a thin, white singlet and handed her two cake slices.
An older lady beside her shot me a toothless smile. "Only cake this time?" she asked.
"Oh, I forgot about the cookies! I'll try and get one for you tomorrow."
"The chocolate one?"
"I know how much you like those so I made lots for you." I moved along and passed one more cakeâI had only bought threeâto one of the men before giving out coins, instead. My phone rang incessantly in my pocket as I began my trek toward the auto stand.
"Hey, Mohi," I said, picking up.
"Mo, where are you?"
"I'm on my way home now. What's wrong?" My stomach roiled at the tone in her voice. There was something off like she was straining herself but trying to appear normal.
"Nothing. I was wondering when we could watch theâack!"
"Grandma?" No response. My body was sweltering, but not because of the humidity. "Grandma!" Why wasn't she responding? What had happened? My breath came out in short, raspy puffs.
This was turning into a very big nightmare.