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“she will be with you at 7 this evening” she said and returned to her work.I had ordered food from the local udupi that evening for two of us and was waiting for her. A little after 7 she rang the bell. I opened the door to see saroj in one of the saris i had given her, with a hint of delicate make up. “aagaya” she said. “andar aana” i replied. And swaying her hips, jingling her bangles and her anklets, she walked in smiling away at me. I asked her to sit, and laid the table. She came in to help and brought the food and we had our dinner. She cleaned up the table and as i was watching tv, she came to me. I took her hand in mine and took her on my lap. She felt shy and tried to hide her face. I gently brought her back in focus and drawing her head down, planted a deep and long kiss on her lips and slowly our mouths opened and our tongues were clashing with one another, sucking on them with total abandon. After some time, we broke off and looked each other in the eyes, our intense love. Like he was some child. Forcing his eyes open, he looked out the window. Once the car had turned off the main highway, the trip had become dark, no streetlights, little oncoming traffic. Just them, traveling down a two lane road through the forest, weak headlights shining ahead. Just him, alone with his thoughts.The stranger was not Dad. Not in the obvious way, being a different person and all, but in the way he acted. He was not like Dad. In many ways, of course, this was good. Dad was ... moody.Zak frowned. Why not admit it. Dad was a drunk. A bastard. A mean, horrible...Dad was his father, and he loved him.His sister was probably right. The two of them could no longer live under the same roof as the man who had raised them, the man who was their only family. That didn't mean the thought of never seeing Dad again didn't make him want to cry. How could he not be with him? Life was not fair...The car slowed, turning onto another road. This was was smaller, if that was possible. There.
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