Sofia's Wings

It was just a cold

"Salaar is a simple boy," his mother used to say to his wife whenever she visited their two-bedroom loft apartment in Lahore. "Food. Bed. Clothes. Tea. Give him these, and he'll be happy with you." 

That night, Zarlish gave him hell. The good kind of hell. 

"You had Italian for dinner. You have a king-sized spring mattress. There's a closet full of clothes. Tea in your belly...There's absolutely nothing else I can give you, my simple husband." She grinned evilly at him in the oval Victorian mirror over her feminine dresser; her long fingers dabbing moisturizer on her collarbone. 

He scowled back playfully from his side of the bed. 

"Come here, Zarlish."

She squirted some more of the liquid onto her palm, this time lathering it sensuously on her ankles and thighs. Long dark hair swung down and almost brushed the carpet, as she bent to reach her instep. 

"Zarlish. Don't make me come over there." 

Done with the lotion show, she grabbed her favorite brush. And he watched with frustration as she went through the ritual of smoothing out her hair. 

One stroke. Two stroke. 

Switch sides. 

Three stroke. Four stroke. Five stroke. 

When she started braiding the thick mass, he snapped. 

"Seems like a waste of time, Zarry. I'll just untie it all in a minute, anyways."  He said firmly, swinging her up in his arms. She didn't squeal or protest, just wrapped her arms around his neck- like a wreath- and held onto him, with a knowing smile on her lips. 

She smelled like jasmines. And something citrusy. And something uniquely her. 

"I knew you'd come for me," she breathed, "you're not that simple, are you?" 

"After three kids, you really need to ask?" 

She was quiet later that night. 

"Too complicated for simple me?" he asked casually wanting to know her mind. 

"We need a bigger place. The kids are growing up. They can't share anymore." 

"I thought we wanted to delay moving until the transfer next year." he rubbed his temple out of habit, debating the pros and cons of moving to a bigger place in Lahore, and then moving again with the job after 12 months. It seemed like too much of a hassle. 

"We will literally run out of space soon. They are growing up so fast." She insisted, a little desperately. 

"It's just a year babe. They'll hardly be outgrowing beds anytime soon." 

"What if they multiplied?" 

"They're not rabbits, Zarlish!" he snorted. 

She gave him that 'are you done?' look. 

"What if there were more of them?" her question was guarded, scared, excited, contemplative at the same time. 

His eyebrows shot up. 

"Are you telling me, or are you asking me?" 

"What if I were asking you?" 

He exhaled. So not simple. 

"Time's not right, yaar. You know I have to travel so much this year? I can't even take you and the kids along, because the areas are so unfriendly for families. You need so much attention and care in those months, and I don't want to miss it this time too. Noor and Ebad still need so much attention. There's also money to think of. We'd need a bigger place. Bigger insurance. Bigger college funds. I--I'm not so sure about it. I mean...I dunno. Three seems like a good number to me." 

"I see." she nodded. But there was a certain brittleness to her tone. 

The silence afterwards, gnawed at him. Like an irritated dog chewing on a particularly stubborn cartilage. 

"You know I love you, right?" he leaned into her hair, inhaling her. "We'll talk about it again. Maybe once I've made senior partner. Or maybe next year when we're hopefully in Islamabad. We'll buy a big place next time. Lots of wood and glass; just the way you like it. And then we'll see if we have space for another munchkin." 

"Two more actually." She whispered, making him still his nuzzling. 

The air seemed to tighten in his lungs. As if it had forgot the way out. 

"Are you asking me, or telling me." 

"I'm telling you, Salaar. You super-spermed-sonovabitch." 

"Well. Fuck." 

He didn't know who laughed first. But five minutes later, they were gasping for breath, shaking with uncontrollable mirth, that rose and fell like tides on a high day. They'd try to sober up, but then he'd see her lip trembling, and more snorts of laughter would bubble up inside. 

"One of these days, I'm going to run back home to Karachi, so you can stop impregnating me. Twins. I mean...God, it's ridiculous. I can't even imagine the stretch marks after this one." 

"I'll just come and get you again. I'm good at that."  

And then after a while: 

"We need to move, Zarry. Because; we're the rabbits!" 

...................

It was her second trimester when it happened. 

She had a cold. The common garden variety cold. 

"I think it was the chilled watermelon I had last night." she sniffed, trying to clear her passageway, "I'm having some trouble breathing. Gonna get it checked out tomorrow. Stay with the kids, okay?" 

It was just a common cold. 

"They want to keep me under observation for tonight. Just stay with the kids. I'm calling my Auntie to stay with me." 

It was just a common cold.

"I don't know why they won't let me go. Some crap about my inherited asthma. Please come take me home. I miss my monsters." 

It was just a common cold. 

"It was just a little bit of watermelon. I don't know why this is such a big deal. I never get sick, you know me. Just ask them to give me Tylenol, some anti-allergy. Don't bring the kids here, they might catch my cold." 

It was just a common cold.

"I just want to go home. Please take me home." 

One week later he brought her home for the last time. 

It was just a common cold.  

And the watermelon in the fridge hadn't even gone bad.