Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda Read Free Book Online Page B

touches the boy’s lips with a silver spoon dipped in honey even before the umbilical cord is severed. He leans down to kiss Kavita on the forehead. With his eyes glistening, Jasu cradles his new son in his arms.
    Kavita wipes away her own tears. These rituals she shares with Jasu and their baby are beautiful and touching, but the joy cannot transcend her grief. For years, she has longed for this moment. Now that it has come, it is laced with sorrow from the past.

12
BEARINGS
    San Francisco, California—1985
S OMER
    I T IS ALL JUST THEORETICAL UNTIL THE DAY THE ENVELOPE arrives. When Somer sees it in the pile of mail, her heart jumps. She stashes a champagne bottle in the fridge and runs down the steps toward the hospital. They promised to do this together, but now, as she runs with the envelope in her hands, her fingers are itching to tear it open after so many months of waiting.
    First, there were countless evenings spent at their kitchen table, poring over stacks of paperwork, completing forms, collecting educational transcripts, tax records, financial statements, and medical reports. Then came the scrutiny from the adoption agency—interviews, home visits, and psychological evaluations. Somer fought the urge to take offense when the caseworker investigated every corner of their flat, not only seeing where the baby’s room would be, but also peeking in their medicine cabinets, even sniffing discreetly in the refrigerator.
    They swallowed their pride and asked former professors, classmates, and colleagues who knew them as a couple to attest to theirsuitability as adoptive parents. Even the local police department had to give its approval. It was unfair, insulting to be subjected to so many tests, to bare their souls when most couples could become parents without any judgment at all. But they did everything they were told, submitted their application, and then they waited. They were told only that it would probably be an older baby, perhaps not perfectly healthy, almost certainly a girl.
    Somer arrives at the hospital, breathing heavily, and goes directly to Kris’s usual ward. “Have you seen him?” she asks a nurse at the station but doesn’t wait for an answer. She checks the doctors’ lounge, finds it empty, then ducks her head into the call room, briefly waking a sleeping intern, and finally returns to the nurses’ station.
    “I’ll page him for you,” the nurse says.
    “Thanks.” Somer sits in one of the hard plastic chairs nearby. She taps her feet on the speckled floor, willing her eyes away from the envelope. She hears Kris’s voice, and sees him walking down the hallway toward her. She can tell from his face—the steely look of his eyes, the pulsing of his jaw muscles—that he’s scolding the dejected young resident walking alongside him. Even when he sees her, his face remains serious until she stands and holds up the large envelope. A hint of a smile appears on his face. He dismisses the resident and strides toward her. “Is that it?”
    She nods. He leads her by the elbow to the nearest stairwell. They sit together on the top step, open the envelope, and pull out a stack of papers with a Polaroid clipped on top. The baby in the photo has curly black hair, and her almond-shaped eyes are a startling hazel color. She wears only a plain dress, a thin silver anklet, and a curious expression on her face.
    “Oh my gosh,” Somer whispers, one hand flying up to her mouth. “She’s beautiful.”
    Krishnan fumbles with the papers and reads, “Asha. That’s her name. Ten months old.”
    “What does it mean?” she asks.
    “Asha? Hope.” He looks up at her, smiling. “It means hope.”
    “Really?” She gives a little laugh, crying as well. “Well, she must be ours then.” She grasps his hand, intertwining their fingers, and kisses him. “That’s perfect, really perfect.” She rests her head on his shoulder as they stare at the photo together.
    For the first time in a very long time, Somer