“That is very kind of you,” the doctor said, handing me her phone number. “If you need help with translation, call me.”
After thanking her, I took Geeta to the pharmacy next door to collect the medication.
As Jack drove us back home, I noticed Geeta staring silently out the window.
My heart hurt for her. No one deserved what she had endured.
That afternoon, I introduced Geeta to Lucas properly before the two of them went outside to play with Oreo and the neighbourhood children.
The moment Oreo saw Geeta step onto the driveway, his tail immediately started wagging.
“Oh! Oreo!” Geeta exclaimed with a bright smile as the dog trotted straight toward her.
Lucas laughed. “See? He likes you.”
Geeta bent down carefully to pet him while Oreo pressed his head against her leg happily.
“Very friendly dog,” she said in her accented English.
“Usually he’s crazy,” Lucas replied proudly.
“I think he still crazy,” Geeta teased softly just as Oreo grabbed his tennis ball and dropped it near her feet.
Lucas gasped dramatically. “That means he really likes you.”
Geeta laughed before picking up the slobbery ball with obvious hesitation. “Eww… dirty.”
Lucas grinned. “Throw it!”
The moment she tossed it across the lawn, Oreo sprinted after it while the other children ran behind him, laughing loudly.
A few seconds later, Oreo came charging back proudly with the ball in his mouth before dropping it back at Geeta’s feet again.
“Oh no,” she said, laughing harder now. “Again?”
Standing near the doorway, I found myself smiling despite everything weighing on my mind. The sound of Lucas laughing while Geeta played with Oreo blended so naturally into the warmth of the afternoon that, for a fleeting moment, the heaviness inside my chest eased.
That night, I showed her the guest bedroom downstairs.
The next morning, however, I found her sleeping upstairs on the floor outside Lucas’ room. “What happened? Why are you sleeping here?”
She wiped her eyes. “I get scared. I sleep here but not down.”Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Something terrible must have happened in her previous home.
I could not let her sleep on the floor. I borrowed a futon from Jack that same day, and he placed it in the baby’s room.
The gesture made Geeta cry again.
The next day, after picking up Lucas from school and checking on the restaurant, I returned home to find the house spotless. The smell of food filled the air.
“Madam, can I serve you food? I make chicken curry,” Geeta said eagerly.
I laughed and shook my head. “Madam? No. My name is Jiya.”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “No calling by name.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully before snapping her fingers. “Didi. I call youDidi.”
I frowned.
