"Hi John, he's busy with a technical problem at head office on the phone, he might be a while," she said with a smile and her lovely lilting Irish accent."No problem, I'll wait," I said. "How are you doing?" Not bad John. Just sick and tired of waiting for my lazy husband to either fix or replace my shower," she replied."Still?" Yes, you know what he did? He bought me one of those silly showers that fit over the taps and told me to use that, the tight git!" she stormed."Do what Jan does with me and tell him he's not getting any till he gets it sorted," I chuckled."Christ, he'd welcome that. Last time I practically raped him because he's forgotten what it's for. I'd never get anything done then and Lord I love my nooky," she giggled."Guess you'll have to get someone in," I said."Tight bastard won't go for that," she moaned. "Christ, I'd offer myself to anyone who would do it if I thought I'd get any takers." If I thought you were serious I'd be round tomorrow like a shot," I. It seemed I would never have a baby, and I felt bereft. Feeling more alone than ever, I curled around my pillow and cried myself to sleep. The door bell rang. When I opened it there stood Ajith, my cousin. Hadn’t seen him in over ten years. He had gone for his studies to the United states. “Hey Akila.. how are you?” He demanded walking into the apartment. He was his flamboyant self. I offered him tea and we talked about the old days. He was married with three kids. He had married an Italian girl. The topic turned to me. At some point I broke down and told him about Vishals inability to impregnate me and the stress it was causing. His hand reached up to caress my cheek. Tears slipped down my cheek, and I turned back to glare through the window. I turned back to Ajith. To my utter surprise, an unbelievable thought entered my desperate mind. I instantly saw in him the father Vishal could never be, and it struck me to the core. Ajith seemed to read my mind. "You're angry, and rightfully.
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