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Still scowling in his armchair, Ravi says to Kiran abruptly, “What’s going on with you and Patrick?”
Kiran takes one of Jane’s pawns with her knight and shrugs.
“Oh, come on, sis,” says Ravi.
Kiran sits back in her chair, looking untroubled, acting like she didn’t hear. Jane wonders how far to push.
“Did Patrick ever confess to you?” Jane asks, not glancing at Ravi, but feeling his hearty approval of her interference. “I saw him the other day, the day we got back from New York. He seemed . . . determined.”
“Yes,” Kiran says. “He actually said things, for once,” she says, catching Jane’s eye, but not elaborating. Finally, as the silence stretches out, she shrugs again and says, to Ravi as much as to Jane, “I’m thinking about the things he said.”
“What did he say?” Ravi demands.
“Stuff I’m thinking about,” Kiran repeats, stubbornly.
“What stuff?”
“Twin, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not going to tell you.”
“Hmph!” says Ravi. “You’re lucky I need to keep you around, in case I ever need a kidney.”
“Like I’d ever give you my kidney.”
“You would totally give me your kidney.”
“There’s totally a universe somewhere where I’ve refused to give you my kidney,” says Kiran.
Ravi is smiling. “Let’s go get that Kiran’s kidney, just to spite her. We could keep it on ice until one of us needs it.”
“That’s a disturbing idea,” Kiran says. “But practical.” She presses a palm to her forehead. “I guess all three of us are kind of looking at a fresh start.”
“What?” says Ravi. “Is this about kidneys?”
“No,” says Kiran. “I’m thinking about you, me, and Janie. We’re all starting fresh. Janie because she’s so young and she’s alone. She’s got her umbrellas. She could really do anything. Sorry,” she adds, glancing at Jane doubtfully.
“For what?” says Jane.
“For reminding you that you’re alone.”
“It’s okay,” Jane says. I might not be, she thinks. Under the table, Jasper nuzzles his nose against Jane’s pants legs. He rests his chin on her boots.
“And you and me,” Kiran says to Ravi. “We don’t have significant others anymore, or jobs. I guess we could also do anything.”
“I do like being single,” says Ravi. “We could start a bordello. You could be my madame and find me clients.”
“Or something less gross,” says Kiran. “Blech.”
Grinning, Ravi stands. “I want coffee,” he says. “Either of you want anything?”
“A bowl of chocolate ice cream,” says Kiran.
“I’d take ice cream too,” Jane says.
“Coming right up,” Ravi says, then strides away.
In the room’s new quiet, Kiran watches Jane take a pawn. Jane has questions for Kiran too, less specific than Ravi’s, but, she suspects, just as nosy.
“Kiran,” Jane says, after a long silence, not sure how to get to the answer she’s seeking. “Are you . . . glad you came home?”
Kiran takes a moment to consider Jane’s question. “I’m finding,” she says, “that despite everything, I’m glad to live in this universe.”
“Huh?”
Kiran moves her knight again, endangering Jane’s queen. “If we live in a multiverse,” she says, “in which multiple versions of us live alternate lives in an infinite series of universes, I’m glad I live in this one. I think that maybe I’m better off than some other Kirans. In this universe, I found out that Colin was stealing from me before I did something stupid, like marry him. Some other version of me somewhere is probably married to a version of him and has no idea. And some other version of me lives with some other, less loving version of Ravi. I like my version of Ravi. I guess I even like my version of Patrick,” she admits, “given that he’s mine. I guess I even like my version of me.”
“Well,” Jane says. “That’s convenient, I guess. If weird.”
Kiran laughs. “By the way, you’re in check.”
“Dammit!”
“What if you’d been born in a universe where there was no rain?” Kiran says.
“Huh?”
“I wonder what you would do,” Kiran says. “Would you still find yourself drawn to make umbrellas?”
“Oh,” says Jane. “I see. Well, I don’t know. Could I make parasols?”
“There’s no sun, either,” Kiran says. “I wonder if you’d have this irrepressible urge to invent sort of a cloth shield on a stick? Would people think you were nuts?”
“Um,” says Jane. “It’s true I can’t imagine not making umbrellas. But don’t you think that’s partly because our universe does have rain?”
“I wonder if you’d even make them waterproof?” says Kiran. “Despite it being completely unnecessary?”
Her question stirs a memory of the conversation Jane had with Ivy while they were waiting to talk to the police. About the digital camera that makes a shutter sound even though it doesn’t have or need a shutter anymore.
“If I did make waterproof umbrellas in a rainless world,” Jane says, “would that be one of those things? Those things where a design incorporates a feature a thing used to have but doesn’t need anymore?”
“Huh?” says Kiran.
Ravi has stepped back into the room, carrying two bowls of ice cream. He’s grinning at Jane. “A skeuomorph?” he says.
“Is that the word?” Jane asks, delighted. “Ivy couldn’t remember. I can’t wait to tell her.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the word,” Ravi says, walking to their table and handing each of them a bowl.
“I guess it’s a little long for Scrabble,” Jane says.
“You could build it onto the word morph,” Ravi says. “Who’s winning, anyway?”
“Me,” says Kiran. “Where’s your coffee?”
“I’ve only got two hands. I’ll get it on my next trip.”
“You’re a sweetie,” says Kiran. “Checkmate.”
“Play chess with me next,” Ravi says.
“Which one of us?” Kiran says.
“Either,” he says. “Both.”
“What, like, as a team?” says Kiran, teasing. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Whatever,” says Ravi, “I’m bored,” then reaches down to put his arms around his sister and pull her into an awkward hug. Ravi has been giving Kiran a lot of hugs these days. Jane has a feeling it’s as much for his own benefit as for hers; Ravi seems to need hugs. But it’s good for Kiran, Jane thinks, that he needs her.
A noise behind Ravi catches Jane’s attention. She leans past him to look. Ivy is in the doorway, in a long, wet coat, with her backpack on her shoulders. Rain plasters strands of hair to her cheeks. She looks at Jane shyly, a question in her face.
“Ivy,” Jane says. “Ivy, I have things to tell you.”
Ivy’s smile starts small, then grows big. She holds out a hand to Jane. “Yeah,” she says. “Me too.”
A bell rings somewhere in the depths of the house,
sweet and clear, like a wind chime.
Mrs. Vanders, the little girl, Kiran, Ravi, or Jasper?
Aunt Magnolia? Jane thinks. Where should I go?
Lies Without Borders
Jane decides.
“I’d like to walk with you, Kiran, but can I join you later? I need to check on something.”
