The Choice

She was waiting for the spinach and cheese-paneer to finish cooking. She had already made the chapatis, breads for dinner, so that all Bobby had to do was pick up the girls from school. Sunita had a soccer game today, but Iris could not go, her shift would be starting soon at the nursing home. “Mom”, she heard her daughter's plaintive voice, “did you hear me?”, “Yes, Sunny, I heard you.” Sunita's nickname at home fit her cheerful personality, most of the time. She was tall for an Indian girl of twelve. Lanky with big brown eyes, a child heading fast into womanhood.

Iris smiled at her daughter. “OK, I'm almost ready. Pick up your sports bag, and yes, your clean blue uniform is in there, along with your shoes.” ”Is this what you were wondering?”, “Yep.” Iris's plan was to pick up Saroj, her eight-year-old from school and drop both the girls at the soccer field behind Sunny's school. “You girls wait for Daddy to pick you up.”

Iris was working second shift this week, not her favorite. She would not be off until eleven, and she would miss dinner with Bobby and the girls. But, considering everything, it was not too bad a shift. Iris was the real breadwinner of the family, but she never mentioned money to Bobby. Her check would go directly into a joint bank account and Bobby would make all the major decisions in the family. It was not exactly the way she wanted, but the girls came first. She wanted them to have choices and freedom she never had.

So much had happened in the last seventeen years, but at times it seemed like just yesterday. Some day, when Sunny would be all grown up, maybe become a doctor or an engineer with a family of her own, Iris would be able to tell her what had happened to her.

Bobby was an OK guy, he was a good husband. Iris believed that she loved him, but she wasn't exactly sure what it meant to be in love. The other nurses at work were always reading the latest romance novel. Her best friend at work, Cindy, would laugh about finding the next “Mr. Gorgeous” At thirty-seven, she had recently left husband number two. Iris did not approve of how fast Cindy fell in and out of love. At thirty-eight, she would never step outside her marriage. Sometimes, she would catch Bobby looking at a woman, maybe even be a little flirtatious, but Iris never said a word. Bobby worked at a small lock factory, and on Sundays he was the Pastor of their small Punjabi Church. She hoped he would not step out of the marriage either. At forty, Bobby was unlike the man who had brought her here.

It had all started about seventeen years ago, in a small northern village in Punjab. It was April, everyone was celebrating the Spring festival of Baisakhi. The fields were bright green, and everyone was jubilant. Iris was heading home after finishing Nursing School in Jalandhar. She was excited, happy, buying a few gifts to take home. The first in her family to go to college, she would make education possible for her brothers and baby sister. Her parents had put everything into her education with the same hope. They could only educate Iris. She was the eldest, and she was hardworking. She was their best hope, and she was coming back home by the two o'clock bus.

Her brothers met her at the bus stop. Their young faces breaking out into wide grins. “Didi”, older sister, they called out to her. She hugged them and then walked home, the older one had strapped her suitcase on the bicycle carrier. Along the way they ran into children laughing and passing out paper cups with milk and sugar water for Baisakhi goodwill. Her parents, all the aunties and uncles came to see her. The air was full of mystery. What was going on!, she wondered.

After dinner, her parents sat down with her. “Beti”, daughter, you know Sashi Auntie's brother-in-law's sister's son has returned from New Jersey. He is doing very well over there, and he is looking for a wife. He would be perfect for you, and once you get settled there, you can send enough back for the children to go to college. Thus, at twenty-three she was married to a forty year old “business man”, who would become her ticket to a new world.

Holding a small suitcase with a few clothes including her red wedding saree and her nursing diploma, Iris landed at JFK with her new husband. They stayed in a one room apartment in Parsippany. The green fields of her village were a long way from her life in the new city. She stayed at home, watched a lot of TV as a way to get used to speaking English. She had studied English in school, but had not spoken much until now. For the first couple of weeks, she stayed pretty much in the apartment. Then, she ran into a lady also doing laundry in the basement laundry room, and they sort of became friends.

On weekends, the husband took her out for shopping for groceries or driving around the neighborhood; the rest of the week he was gone for long days and even on some nights. A whole month had passed, Iris was beginning to adjust. The husband was not romantic, but he was kind to her.

One Saturday morning, they went to look for special foods and sweets to celebrate their first month of married life. When they got back to the apartment, the husband handed the apartment keys to her, “You go inside and I'll bring in the groceries.” She was just unlocking the glass door when she heard a woman screaming. She turned around, and there she saw, a woman running out of a car parked near their car, with two small children inside. The woman was yelling at her husband, “How could you do this to me?, blank #!*, blank**#!, blankety##!**, blank*#!” She looked at Iris, “This is my husband, and those are his kids!”

Iris was so shocked, she did not know what to say, she was speechless. She stood there, her husband said said nothing to her. He just got in the car and left. That was the last time she saw him. For sometime she sat on the steps leading up to the apartment, holding a bag of groceries. She was numb, what would happen to her. She knew no one, where would she go; she could'nt possibly go back to her parents, what would they say. She was sitting there when the laundry room neighbor saw her on the way to the basement. “Iris, what's up?”' And, that's when when Iris burst into tears. She could not stop, she tried to explain. “There, there!” the neighbor grabbed her arm and climbed back up to the apartment with her. They sat and talked for some time. A plan was made for Iris to call her parents and look for guidance as to her next steps.

The parents were just as shocked, many tears were shed. They would contact another Aunty from a close by village, whose sister was living in Chicago. The Auntie's sister and husband would come and get Iris, they would sell whatever was in the apartment, and they would take her back with them to Chicago. A month later, she found out she was pregnant.

The Chicago Aunty and Uncle were practical people, “Iris, you need to use your Nursing Diploma and get your Certification.” Good, she thought, at least she could support herself and the baby. “No, we have talked with your parents, you are only twenty-three, you have nothing, no Green Card, no driver's license, you can't even speak English well!” Iris was completely lost and bewildered. What could she do? She was under so much pressure. At last, she did what she was told to do. The grief was unbearable, but she put her only valuable possession, a gold chain from her grandmother, around the baby's neck. The nurse took the baby away.

Iris studied hard for her Nursing Boards while working as a cashier at a nearby convenience store. She made it through. Almost two years had gone by. Then Chicago Aunty told her that a young youth pastor needed a Visa, and was looking for a wife. That is how she met Bobby.

Upon the Auntie's insistence, she was to say nothing to Bobby. Uncle would have a talk with him and let him know that Iris had been married before but was innocently divorced with no children. She was never to mention the baby. After all, no man was going to accept another man's child. So, she said nothing, he never asked. They made a new life together. Many times, she thought of saying something to Bobby, but time passed, she began working. Sunny was born, then Saroj. Soon it was too late to say anything to anyone. Bobby would feel deceived, the children were still too young.

On those melancholy days, she would go to the small suitcase in the back of the bedroom closet. There, wrapped in the red wedding saree was a small black notebook. Iris had written what she could, maybe, some day Sunny would read it and understand. Tucked in the back of the notebook was a small photograph, the eyes of her beautiful newborn son looked back at her. From somewhere deep within, a sound began, Iris was singing a lullaby, “Hush, little one, don't cry, one day you will make your mama proud!” It started slowly and softly, a hum, and then became a bigger sound. At almost midnight, muffled in the small clothes closet, it sounded eerie and beautiful.

Bobby stirred in bed, he was awake but pretended to be asleep. He felt that Iris had been through something she never mentioned, and he never brought it up, he would leave it up to her. Lying there he thought about what he and Iris had been through in the past almost fifteen years. Next week was their anniversary; he had a surprise for Iris. On that day, he stopped on his way back from work to pick up some flowers and a small yellow cake with chocolate frosting.

Iris was working the day shift that week. His girls were waiting. Iris loved the pale light pink roses. After dinner the children sat on the sofa eating their pieces of cake, laughing at a funny movie. Their parents were still sitting at the kitchen table talking as usual. Then, Bobby pulled out an envelope from his shirt pocket and handed it to her, “For you Iris, to use the way you want.” She cautiously opened the envelope, inside was a cashier's check for $20,000. She was dumbfounded, she blinked her eyes in disbelief. Bobby had been collecting over the years, here and there, overtime, bonuses, and slowly he had built this fortune. Tears welled up in her eyes, it was clear to her, this man, her husband, loved her. She got up from her chair and went and stood before Bobby, she hugged him tight, and held on to him.

Then she went to the bedroom closet, pulled out the suitcase with the red wedding saree, and picked up the little Black Book. She came and put it on the table before Bobby to read. They sat there for hours, talking in soft, hushed, loving tones. Sunny saw that her parents were busy, the movie had ended, she and Saroj went to bed.

Bobby looked at Iris, “Nothing has changed, anything you want to do, the money is for you.” Iris smiled, she had made her choice, she would find her son.