Free A House for Happy Mothers: A Novel by Amulya Malladi

bus.
    But today was a Sunday. Everyone was home except Puttamma, who went to the temple for a good part of the day. She said she went there to pray, but Kaveri suspected that she couldn’t stand having so many people in the house and left to gossip with the other old biddies on the street.
    Asha was happy that the children were going to a better school than they had in Srirampuram, where they had just a thatched roof, a blackboard, and a teacher who struggled to teach all the classes.
    Asha had been surprised to learn that Raman and Kaveri had none of their money left. They had spent more than two lakhs on buying their flat and had splurged with the rest on buying this and that. Now Kaveri was planning to be a surrogate again so they could save some money for Girish and Sirish’s education.
    Asha wanted to save the money for Manoj’s and Mohini’s education first, and once that was settled then they could start to worry about a house. They could stay in a rented place, something small in Srirampuram, or maybe buy something small if there was money left over. She could go back to sewing blouses for women and earn a small living on the side to help Pratap. In Srirampuram there would be more opportunities for tailoring, and she was a good tailor. She made all of their clothes, even Pratap’s shirts, and everyone knew that sewing shirts was not easy.
    “Yes, I agree that we should buy a flat. It gives us stability and it’s an investment. That money is only going to grow. You bought a flat a year ago, and it has already appreciated,” she heard Pratap say. She decided to open the door of the small bedroom with as much noise as she could.
    They both stopped talking and smiled at her.
    “You slept OK?” Pratap asked almost sheepishly.
    Asha nodded and walked past them to where Kaveri was sitting.
    She wanted to scream, but she knew better than to contradict her proud husband in front of his brother.
    “I know,” Kaveri whispered knowingly.
    Kaveri was peeling potatoes at the dining table they had gotten for free from Raman’s boss, who had bought a new one. The men were in the adjoining TV room. It was a small flat with thin walls; the two small bedrooms opened into the TV room and the adjoining dining space. Any conversation, even whispered, could hardly be private.
    “You know what?” Asha asked icily.
    “I know what you’re thinking: that this is your money, and he should at least ask you how he should spend it,” Kaveri said.
    Asha didn’t say anything, because no matter what she said it would sound like she was speaking ill of Pratap, and a good wife didn’t speak ill of her husband to her sister-in-law, or anyone else for that matter.
    “I felt the same way,” Kaveri said. “Now we have no money left. He spent it all on this flat and on other nonsense. The flat is a good thing. We will always have a home. But we should have been smart about the boys’ education.”
    “He bought you that beautiful necklace,” Asha said.
    Kaveri shrugged. “Good thing it’s gold; I can at least sell it if I need to.”
    “Will you do it again?” Asha asked.
    “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “Amma, when will the food be ready?” Girish cried out from the TV room. All the children were watching a Telugu movie. It was eleven in the morning and the children had had a light breakfast as they did on Sundays and were now waiting for a full and big early lunch.
    “It’ll be ready when it’ll be ready,” Kaveri yelled back. “You’d think we were maids.”
    “We are,” Asha said.
    “One day we should go on strike,” Kaveri suggested. “Just sit down with our feet up, watching TV all day. That’s what living in the surrogate house was like. I felt like I was on holiday.”
    Thanks to Kaveri, Asha was actually starting to look forward to moving into the surrogate house. She’d miss her children, but didn’t she deserve to not take care of anyone for a few months? Imagine having someone to cook, clean, and give