The Direction of the Wind: A Novel(88)

She is going back home but still is not sure what that home will be. Some things haven’t changed since she left. Her parents are still gone, and she still must build a life without them. And she had no siblings before she left, and while this may not be technically true now, Vijay has made clear that he doesn’t want or need a sister, so she’s an only child, just as she was before. Everything has changed inside her, while everything has remained the same on the surface.

And then there is Kiran. Sophie still cannot believe he flew to France to speak with her. The way he thinks of her, with spark and determination, based on her playing as a small child still mystifies her because she’s never seen herself this way. France was the first time she realized that she is her mummy’s daughter and part of Nita would always live on in Sophie. But she is also her papa’s daughter and thrives on rules and stability. It is okay for her to be both.

On the last leg of her flight, Sophie wraps the thin airplane blanket around her and leans her head against the window as she tries to drift to sleep and escape the swirling thoughts. She doesn’t realize how deeply she has slept until the jarring motion of the plane touching down in India awakens her. She is home. And now she must figure out what that means.



Sharmila Foi embraces her when she emerges from the airport with her luggage in tow. Vaishali Foi has her arms crossed as if she is still annoyed, but when she hugs Sophie, Sophie can feel the tension release from her foi’s arms upon knowing for herself that Sophie is okay.

“What were you thinking, running off like that?” Vaishali Foi mutters as she releases her grasp on Sophie. “What if something had happened to you, hah?”

“I’m okay, Foi. In fact, I’m better than okay. For the first time in my life, I know the truth about my family.”

Their driver arrives and collects her two suitcases, and her fois usher her through the throngs of people to the car, each of them holding her hand as if she is six years old and crossing a busy street with them. She lets them. Sophie welcomes feeling taken care of, even if it is only for a few moments. No matter how trying they can be at times, her fois are her family, and she is more grateful for them now than she has ever been. She appreciates that even though her family’s story isn’t typical, she is more fortunate than so many, and hopes she never loses that outlook.

Once she gets settled at Vaishali Foi’s bungalow, she cannot help but wish she was in her own room. She knows the house is vacant now, but she hasn’t been in a place that felt like her home since she started this emotional journey. Her heart aches at knowing she might never have a place that feels like home again. She wonders if any place ever felt that way to Nita. Certainly, Ahmedabad did not. From what she’s learned of her life in Paris, she can’t imagine that felt right either. Sophie is grateful that Ahmedabad is her home. It’s where her memories of Papa are. And it’s where those few memories of her mummy live. She knows she will never leave it.

As she makes her way downstairs, she hears her fois rummaging around in the kitchen and giving directions to the cook, who will be preparing dinner.

There are steaming mugs of chai at the dining table, the thin layer of malai already forming across the top. Her fois join her as Sophie sinks into a chair and uses her spoon to skim the malai off the top and droop it over the edge of her mug. The familiar taste warms her from the inside out. She then dives into what she learned in Paris and her meeting with Vijay, leaving out the part about Nita being addicted to drugs, deciding some things are better left unsaid. Her fois need nothing additional to think poorly of Nita. They do not react strongly to Vijay not wanting to be a part of the family, and Sophie realizes it is because he’s not technically part of their family. He has a different papa, and a non-Indian one at that. His existence casts more shame onto their family, which had already suffered a scandal when Nita left all those years ago. They are ready to put it in the past and leave it there.

“We think maybe it’s best you stay here until we figure out the next step,” Vaishali Foi says.

“Okay. And I think I should speak to Kiran.”

Sharmila Foi perks up even though Sophie can see she is trying to remain neutral. Surely, they know he went to Paris to see her. There are no secrets in the Ahmedabad gossip circuit.

“Oh?” Sharmila Foi says, her voice anything but nonchalant.

“I’d like to speak with him alone, if I can.”

Seeing him alone is a far from normal request, given the potential for gossip, but Sophie is a long way from normal these days.

Her fois exchange glances. “We can call his parents and ask,” Sharmila Foi says hesitantly.

“Maybe I can just call his house and ask for him. I’m sure you know he came to France to see me, so if we’re worried about what people will think, then we’ve got bigger problems.”

They both widen their eyes at Sophie’s directness. She has never spoken out of turn like this before. Sophie can’t help but wonder if part of their reaction is to her behavior reminding them of Nita.

Sharmila Foi goes to her purse to retrieve the handwritten pocket address book she always carries with her. It is worn and creased from decades of being carted around in her purse. It is organized in a way that would make sense only to her because it is not alphabetical. She flips to a page and hands it to Sophie.

“When you are ready, here is the number.”