"Come have a look at your room, man," Darapan sang out, side skipping away and waving his arms in a follow-me gesture. "And your room, too," he said to Serene. Aarav and Serene followed him and Ramani went into the kitchen. At the end of the hall was a medium-sized bedroom with a sliding glass door that led out to a backyard with a large shade tree and two smaller bushy lemon trees. Inside the room there was a bookshelf, a four-poster bed and two large dressers. More furniture that came with the house. The room smelled overpoweringly of Darpan––his armpits, specifically, Serene noticed, and something muskier, tinged with the odor of weed. The bland brown blankets on the bed were slightly rumpled and there were imprints in the pillows from heads that recently rested there. Aarav's jaw tightened and he opened the sliding door.
"You want to check out the yard?" Darpan asked.
"Where do I stay?" Serene spoke up.
"Oh, yeah. Come on, I'll show you.”
Serene was often an afterthought for Darpan. His utmost allegiance was to Ramani. He groveled at Aarav while often overlooking Serene altogether, which was one amongst many of the reasons why she chose to stay behind on Maui with Aarav. Her relationship with her stepdad had never been good. Still, Aarav's uptight and hypocritical I'm-so-enlightened attitude paled next to Darpan's unabashed childish narcissism. Serene could only take so much of being alone with Ramani and her young husband, who she treated like a spoiled pet and could be disgustingly inappropriate with. They often groped each other in public and gave each other sloppy tongue kisses. More times than Serene could count, these makeout sessions gave Darpan very obvious erections, his penis straining against whatever thin-material pants he happened to be wearing at the time. They'd then disappear into his room, or sometimes Ramani would leave him hot and bothered. He'd just continue with whatever activity he'd been up to, no shame in prancing about with a hard on while gardening or cutting vegetables for a stir fry.
"Sweet, isn't it?" Darpan said, opening a door to a closet-sized bedroom where Serene would sleep. It was so packed with furniture that she could barely squeeze through to the tiny attached bathroom that Darpan gestured to like a game show host giving away a prize. Ugly green polyester curtains hung over another sliding glass door that opened out to a private walled-in courtyard. "Awesomeness, right?" Darpan took a moment to throw an arm over Serene's shoulder, his damp armpit resting against the back of her neck, its acrid tangy odor curdling her stomach. She ducked out from under him and wiped away at the wet patch on her skin with the back of her shirt. "There's another bathroom too, man, a bigger one," Darpan said to Aarav and showed them. It was next to Aarav and Ramani's room. It had two sinks with hot and cold faucets and a claw foot tub with a small shower head.
“Suh-weet,” he said, dragging out the word into two syllables in that dopey surfer talk of his. Serene wondered why it had been left up to Darpan to show them around her grandparents' house as if it were his and he was kind enough to let them come stay.
"So, like, where's your room?" Serene asked.
"Oh, yeah. We have to go back the way we came.” He sang the last part in a high falsetto and took them back toward the living room and down a different short hall, which was really only there for the staircase that led to the second story.
Upstairs was its own apartment and Serene could see that Darpan had no business claiming this space for himself. Her mother had allowed this blond, twenty-five-year-old hippy with no ambition other than to be a sponge to usurp their life.
The upstairs held a more modern looking living room, a small kitchen and an enormous bedroom with its own modern bathroom of black and white tiles and a giant shower and tub enclosed in a wall of glass. There was a balcony, too, that overlooked their street.
"Ramani told me to shack up here, man," Darpan said.
Aarav's narrow face darkened with repressed rage, brown eyes astounded with Darpan's audacity.
"She said the three of you would be more comfortable all together, you know. But I'm cool with whatever."
He'd already made the place his own, though, laid claim by painting the walls bright orange and yellow. His personal pictures decorated the bedroom. Free weights were piled in one corner and hanging mistletoe and spider plants were placed throughout the living room, kitchen and bedroom. Serene wondered where Darpan got the money to purchase these things. Fruit lay on the cutting board in the kitchen, some of it cut up, some of it already tossed in a brand-new fancy blender.
"Do you want a celebratory smoothie?"
"Maybe later," Aarav said and made an about-face back down the stairs, Serene behind him.
"Ramani," her stepfather called out. "Ramani!"
"In the kitchen." Her mother met them in the hall, holding a beer and grinning. She was as brown as a walnut, her frizzy curls framing her pretty, distinct features in a sexy, tousled way.
Ramani was heading into her late forties, but she could easily pass for early thirties. Her breasts were still perky, even though she’d breastfed both Serene and Cedar. She did yoga every day and went for five-mile runs. She ate a lot of raw food and drank a lot of smoothies. Ramani also drank a lot of alcohol and smoked too many joints with Darpan. Still, the pot only made her crave things like bananas and blueberries. She wasn't into junk. Ramani was good with her hands; she knew how to build and fix things. Even though she had a license in family law, she didn't practice. She preferred to teach yoga classes and paint for a living. She liked to hike and build yurts and gazebos and furniture. She liked to meditate and chant with Aarav and cuddle with
