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“I’m glad too,” Pran whispers. “But are you sure, Pat? You’ll have to take care of Sol without me,”
Pat only smiles wider at that. “Don’t you know? I’m a baby whisperer,”
Three days before Pran’s flight
Sol is still sleeping on Pat’s chest without a sound even as her newly permanent fathers sob quietly at the prospect of adopting her even before their adult life begun.
Pran remains by Pat’s side, stroking his cheek in silence as he sits on the edge of the bed. Pat’s eyelids are heavy as Pran coaxes him to sleep, but he needed to stay awake. There was so much to talk about to Pran. They need to talk about how they’re going to raise this baby.
“Don’t think so much,” Pran pulls him out of his thoughts. “We did fine for three months, what’s in a lifetime?”
Pat chuckles, albeit tiredly. His head lolls to the side and he peels one eye open to look at his lover under the dim yellow light of the bedroom. “There’s so many things to think about,”
Pran remains silent as he waits for Pat to talk. They always take one look at Pat and Pran and label Pran as the overthinker and worrier. But both boys knew how equally anxious Pat can be, if not worse. He just learned how to hide his worries. But Pran knew well.
“What about your mother? How will she handle this when she finds out?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, babe,” Pran answers simply.
Pat strokes Sol when she begins to stir on his bare chest, peppering her with soft kisses and waiting until she falls back asleep. “And her medical check ups, vaccines, school,” Pat turns to Pran with wide eyes as if just realising this now. “You’ll be back before Sol gets to go to school, right?”
“Pat,” Pran chokes out a soft laugh, nudging him gently to scoot over so Pran can plaster himself next to his boyfriend’s warm body. He props his head on his hand and looks down at Pat’s wide and worrying eyes. “I’ll be back in two years. Sol still has another year before she can fully start schooling,”
“And,” Pran adds on, taking one of Pat’s hands and kissing his knuckles just because he can. “I’ve already inquired about her check ups at the adoption office; They’ll explain everything to us once we get her birth certificate first thing on Monday,”
“What about the rituals?” Pat asks again. “We only ever did the Khwan ceremony for her, and I don’t even know if we did it according to the rituals. Pran, she needs to-
Pran shuts Pat up with a kiss, enough to make the boy tense in surprise, and then relax back when Sol senses it. He holds Pran’s head gently by his nape and allows Pran to kiss him as long as he wants.
When they break their kiss, Pran is breathing heavily against his forehead; “Sleep, Pat. I love you,”
The Khwan Ceremony (One week of babysitting Sol)
“She’s almost a month old,” Pat tells Pran as they intently watched Sol suck on her milk bottle. Sol is staring back at them with equal interest as if wanting to know what they were talking about.
Pran nods. “What about it?” he asks his lover while he swipes his thumb under the small dribble of milk that leaks out of the baby’s mouth for the third time.
“Shouldn’t we, um, hold her a Khwan ceremony?”
Both Pat and Pran turn to look at each other when the realisation settles in. They were, not exactly religious people, but growing up in equally religious households, Pat and Pran were equipped with knowledge about how important these rituals for new-borns were.
“Should we..?” Pran begins. “I don’t know, maybe you should ask your Mae. She might know better,”
It was a good idea, Pat thought. But asking his mother for help to conduct a ritual for Sol would only result in Pran being absent in said ritual. And Pat didn’t want that. Oddly enough, even by spending just one week with Sol, Pat knew that this baby was both his and Pran’s. He wasn’t going to lose that.
So Pat shakes his head. “Then you wouldn’t be there,”
“Does it matter for me to be there?” Pran laughs it off, shaking his head as if wondering how Pat could even say something like that.
“Yes,” Pat remains firm. “Yes, because she’s our baby,”
And that was how Pat and Pran find themselves at the temple with Sol in her stroller. People are giving them weird looks for having a baby despite looking like a bunch of college students, which they are. At least a month ago.
“Here for?”
Both boys jump in retaliation at the sight of a shorter old man that carried his huge belly by a thin belt. His hair was slicked back with too much gel and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses covered half his face. He stares at Pat, Pran and Sol with dismay.
“Good morning, we’re here to,” Pat motions to Sol and the soft hair that grew on her head. “The Khwan ceremony?”
The man raises his eyebrows at them, then he pulls his glasses down and eyes them. “Just the two of you.. Khwan ceremony?”
Pran nods. “Just us, nothing big,” he fakes a laugh, hoping that they would come off as uptight parents who just wanted a simple Khwan ceremony for their daughter instead of a bunch of college boys that have no idea what they’re doing.
The man looks tired, as if he doesn’t even care. As long as he gets the money he needs. “Well, both the baby’s parents must be present during the ceremony, and you need to pay a fee of-
“Note it down, note it down,” Pran hisses at Pat since his hands were occupied by carrying Sol. Pat pulls out his phone and listens intently.
“Get a small garland of lotus, incense sticks, new clothes for the baby-
“How are we going to afford this?” Pat whispers frantically as he types and the man continues listing down so many items needed.
“Enough, Malee,”
Sol turns toward the scratchy voice first, kicking her chubby legs against Pran as if he was a horse that needed whipping to go faster. A monk stands next to Malee now, his face calm and peaceful enough to make everyone relax.
“Always worrying about money,” the monk chides. Malee grumbles with a frown but listens when the monk tells him to walk away. Then, he turns to Pat and Pran with a wider smile. “I heard something about a Khwan ceremony?”
Pran is the first to take matters in his own hands since Pat is still too stunned to speak. “Yes, luang por,” he bows down with a wai at the monk. “We- she’s a month old now. And we wanted to give her a Khwan ceremony,”
“I see,” the monk nods, bending down to play with Sol’s chubby hands. Sol latches onto his rough fingers immediately. “And are you the parents?”
The monk had already expected the outcome when he asked that question. His smile grows wider at the unsure faces of Pat and Pran. Pat looked he was very close to nodding while Pran simply doesn’t know what to tell him.
“It does not matter,” he answers for himself. “Come, come with me,”
And so, without a single penny spent, purely from the love and blessings of a monk, Pat and Pran held their temporary daughter and conducted a ceremony for her. They don’t know how accurate the traditions were, nor do they know about the accustoms after. But what they do know is that their heart and souls were fully into this.
Into the baby that Sol was.
Now
Dissaya sits on the empty bed of Pran’s room, missing her son very much. It had been less than a day after she had bid goodbye to Pran who had told her that he takes the morning flight to Singapore.
Dissaya wonders why he would take a morning flight when she could’ve made him some lunch, helped him pack and send him off properly. Pran had told her that it was unfortunately the company’s doing.
Morning or evening, Dissaya missed her son. But alas, Dissaya knew that it would be good for her son. A change of environment after spending his past three years in university surrounded by that cheater and his whole cheating family.
Maybe Pran would call her one day in Singapore and tell her that he had found a nice Singaporean man, and that he plans to marry that very man. She would be sad that he was leaving her, but any man was better than the neighbour’s kids.
“Missing Pran?”
Dissaya turns her head from where she had been standing; against Pran’s window, looking at the night sky. Praew stands by the threshold, a cup on hot tea in one hand and black coffee in another. She smiles and motions her husband to stand with her. Together, the parents of Pran stand by his window and watch the night sky. No wonder Pran chose this room.
It was silent for a few minutes, almost so quiet that all Dissaya could hear was her husband’s soft breathing next to her. And then, she hears crying.
Big and loud wails that belonged to none other than a very young and very innocent baby. Dissaya knew what a baby’s cry sounded like. And all she could wonder about was who on Earth had a baby in this neighbourhood?
She knew all the gossip, all the secrets in this neighbourhood, and never once did Dissaya hear about any babies being born. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion and she turns to Praew, about to ask him if he heard those cries too.
“Okay, my Sol, your Pa is here, Pa is here,”
Pran’s parents’ heads turn to the direction of the voice. It came from the opposite window, completely open. Dissaya was able to see the room inside, the old drum set could never go unnoticed by Dissaya who had spent years wishing she could blow up that damned instrument.
On cue, the cheater’s son enters his room with a baby in his arms, swaying her back and forth with perfect posture. As if he had been doing this forever. Dissaya doesn’t hide the surprise in her expression and so does Praew.
The baby in his arms in wailing loudly despite Pat waving a bottle of freshly made warm milk. Both parents watch in secret, whatever that boy was doing. Pat stands square in his room, scratching his head as he thinks about what to do to make the baby stop her cries.
Then, Dissaya watches as his eyes grow wide and he props the baby up in one arm. With his free hand, Dissaya and Praew watch Pat unbutton his shirt low enough to expose his chest where the baby nestles into instantly.
It was almost magical, how she stopped crying the very second she feels Pat’s warm skin against her face. Pat is saying something to her, but Dissaya doesn’t bother. She pulls the curtains behind them and turns to Praew with surprise in her eyes.
“When did he get a child?” Dissaya asks her husband as they leave Pran’s room.
“Maybe it was accidental?” he offers. “I’ve never seen him with a girl after- after Pran,” Praew hesitates but he gets it out of his system. What his wife did to their son was far from his control, but Praew had a right to say it. His son did love Pat, and he was not going to allow Dissaya just forget about that fact.
“You mean he got a girl pregnant?” Dissaya asks back, eyes wide at the prospect of Ming’s child doing something perfectly wrong. Of course, Ming’s children would be the screw ups. While Pat dealt with the burden of fatherhood because of stupid decisions, her Pran got to live his life as a well-paid architect in Singapore.
It was karma, after all.
“We don’t know that,” Praew defends. “He could have adopted her?”
“Who in their right mind would adopt a child right after university? He probably had her even before graduation,” Dissaya retorts. “Serves him right for cheating on everything. Now his son follows his footsteps,”
“Let’s just go to bed, Dissaya. That is their issue to solve,”
A few hours later, Dissaya comes back to Pran’s room when Praew is fast asleep in their bed just to check if she had closed (she did, and she knew it) his windows as it was raining. As usual, Dissaya was never forgetful; The curtains were closed and the rain pattered against his closed window.
Still, she opens the curtain, quite obviously, to check if Pat was still holding that baby. Maybe they were both tired, maybe they were just dreaming. There was no way that cheater’s son could have his own child when her son still suffers from the consequences of their break up even after three years.
Across Pran’s window, Pat’s room lights have dimmed to a light orange, but the owner of the room and his very cute (unfortunately) baby is nowhere to be found. Dissaya exhales the remaining breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
Just as she prepares to yank the curtain back, Pat comes right in front of the window, baby in his arms. Dissaya tenses up again. Pran’s ex-lover is shirtless, the baby sucking on a milk bottle, ear pressed over his heart and she listened to Pat’s soft words.
He’s pointing at the sky from the window, talking about something as the baby listened intently. Dissaya remains frozen, mesmerized with how beautiful a baby that has Ming’s blood could be. Ming looks like a mongrel, how on Earth does his granddaughter look so beautiful?
She doesn’t have time to notice the fact that Pat was standing absolutely still by his window. Then she realises that he was looking at Pran’s window, right at Dissaya. Dissaya is panicking but she can’t show it to Pat. So she remains firm, keeping her scary stoic face that she uses every time Pat meets her.
He cracks first, eyes wide and scrambling to join his hands in a wai and attempting to bow down. Sol goes along with his bow and turns to the window to follow her father’s gaze. Dissaya opts to stare at the baby. She offers a nod at the boy and his baby.
Then, without a second glance, she yanks the curtain close and goes back to her room.
“Have you settled in?”
“Mm, yeah. Just unpacked and getting into bed. I have a week before work starts,” Pran speaks into the phone. They had wanted to go on video call because Pran, not so subtly had said he misses Sol already, but the coverage near Pat’s home is shit. He’d rather be able to hear Pran’s voice smoothly.
Pat lies on his bed, just in his shorts while Sol drools on his chest as she slept. She hated whenever Pat hold her with his shirt on. Pat is lightly swirling his fingers over the curves of her fine baby hairs on her head as she slept, while he holds his phone in another.
“How did you parents take the news?”
Pat hums quietly, counting the old and faded glow-in-the-dark star stickers that stuck to his ceiling. “Quite well, actually. Mae made dinner to celebrate and Pa is still grumpy because I never told him about it. I think he knows who Sol’s guardian is,”
Pran inhales on the other side of the phone. “Are you sure things are okay?”
“I’ve made up my mind. I have a family now, Pran,” Pat whispers so as to not disrupt Sol’s sleep. “It’s up to him if he wants to accept you as my life partner or not. I’m more than ready to cut ties with him if things go wrong,”
“..Pat,” Pran begins, but Pat knew what he was going to say and they’ve talked about this. They’ve talked so much about how their parents will not have a say in their love life. And they’re only hiding because they were still under their parents’ wings.
“Pran,” Pat repeats back. “Don’t try to change my mind, I won’t budge,”
Pran remains silent on the other side, so Pat continues while he rubs Sol’s back soothingly when she begins to stir on his chest.
“You are more important to me. I’m not going to risk our life for a man that could never admit his mistakes. He’s my father and that’s all he will be if he doesn’t change. We’re a family now. Don’t think so much,”
“Won’t you feel sad that Sol might not have grandparents?”
“She will,” Pat reassures.
“How sure are you?”
Pat hums softly to himself, and he thinks about Dissaya by Pran’s window a few hours ago. She may not have noticed, but Pat knew that she had seen him twice. So he smiles to himself. Things weren’t looking so bad after all.
The next morning, Pat comes down with a freshly showered Sol in a pink dress that matched with the daisy flower headband. His mother and sister are in the kitchen and they coo with delight immediately. Pat coos together with them, because, how cute is his daughter?
His father sits at the head of the table, an evident frown on his face; Pat couldn’t care less. His father rarely smiled around them anyways. He always shameless smiled at everyone but his family members. It was normal.
Breakfast was almost ready when Pat and Sol came down; Mae had just reheated the leftovers from yesterday with fried rice. Pat was happy either way, he loved home cooked meals. His father, however, remains frowning even as Pat compliments his Mae and sister and grabs Sol back to sit on his lap.
His mother tells him to wait as they have one more dish cooking and Pat nods. The morning paper is on the table, one that Ming has already finished reading. So Pat grabs it and flips it through, reading along with Sol.
The atmosphere is tense, Pat can sense it between them now that his sister and mother is out of sight. Pat ignores it and waits for his father to begin badmouthing someone. In the meantime, he holds Sol close on his lap and flips the newspaper together with his daughter.
“When did you two get back together?”
Pat almost crumples the paper in his hands at his father’s tone, but he remains calm. He doesn’t look at his father when he speaks; “We never broke up,”
“So you were lying to all of us?”
Pat shakes his head. “Just you,” he pauses. “And Pran’s mother,”
That was when Pat’s father began his usual snapping.
“And you just decided to have a child with that boy? You think you’re so mature now that you’re working? Deciding to adopt a child and ruin her life with that useless boy?” Ming raises his voice.
“I don’t think we can ruin her life as much as you did to ours,” Pat remains calm. His anger was not worth his father’s words. Sol is staring at Ming with wide eyes, curious as to why he’s red and scary.
Pat would’ve found it adorable and send a picture of it to Pran if he wasn’t controlling the simmering pot of anger inside him. He continues staring at the article that couldn’t be absorbed into his brain.
“You blatantly disobeyed your father’s words, fooled around with that wicked lady’s son. And now you blindly let him go to Singapore while you take care of a child? What do you know about raising a child, Pat?”
It was the same question Ming had asked him Sol first came into this house. And this time, Pat doesn’t hide his true answer. He sharply looks up at his father, jaw clenched with anger and Pat speaks; “More than you do, Pa,”
If anything, Ming only tenses up further. He raises his hand and points at Pat accusingly. “I don’t know where I went wrong with raising you. Always playful and disrespectful. And now, you’re stubborn too. Last time, you would just listen to everything that I tell you to do. Do you see what happens when you mix with that boy, Pat? Do you see how much you’re changing? He’s ruining your life just like his mother did to mine. You can’t see that. Listen to your Pa and take that baby away. You don’t need some blind reassurance that he will raise this girl with you. If anything, he will find some girl there and settle down with her. And you will come crying back here, yapping abo-
“ENOUGH,”
It takes Pat a while to realise what just happened. When he does, the first thing he hears is Sol’s loud wailing on his lap. His fist hurts from slamming on the wooden table, the newspaper is crumpled on the floor, his father is staring wide eyed at him and his mother and sister have come out of the kitchen with matching looks.
Sol is still crying from the intensity of Pat’s scream, looking at her father as if he was a monster. Pat regrets it. He regrets screaming only because his daughter was afraid of him. So he shushes Sol and caresses her head lovingly, kissing every patch of skin he finds on his daughter. “Papa’s sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” Pat whispers. Sol is still crying, but he feels her tiny fists clutch onto the brown shirt he had tucked in, tightly.
Pat hugs his daughter tight, shielding her from his monster of a father. “I am sick and tired of your useless nagging, Pa,” Pat speaks softly this time, afraid that his daughter would cry again.
His father is frozen, stunned at hearing his son raising his voice at him for the first time. His mother and sister are too, but Pat couldn’t bring himself to care. All he cared about was his daughter’s cries that had been reduced to soft sniffling.
“I’m going to the temple to make some merits under Sol’s name,” Pat announces when he stands up. Sol grips him tighter, as if afraid that he would let go. Pat kisses her head and shoots his father another glare. “Under our daughter’s name. Sol Siridechawat Jindapat,”
“Come with me if you want your son and granddaughter in your family. If you don’t, then please forget that you even have a son at all, Pa,”
His mother and Paa follows him to the temple even after Pat had openly screamed at his father. Pat is thankful enough. So he hides his tears and sadness behind Sol as Paa drives them to the temple.
When he offers merits, Pat kneels along with Sol in his arms and says both his and Pran’s name as her parents. The monk blesses them enough to reassure Pat that if there’s anyone up there, then they wouldn’t take his family away from him.
Later, when all prayers had been done, Paa offers to take Sol to the car to feed her along with their mother. Pat sits at the temple, legs crossed and gazing at the statue of Buddha that sat so elegantly. He smiles down at Pat, enough to make Pat believe that everything will be okay.
Just then, his phone vibrates, and Pran’s cutest dimpled smile appears on his screen. Pat exhales harshly, feeling his throat tighten. Pran always knew when to call him. So he swipes answer on the video call.
The first thing Pat sees is the huge, white statue of the Merlion statue. Pat had talked Pran’s ears off about wanting to see the half lion half fish statue that was the landmark of Singapore. And now he does.
The camera flips to Pran’s face glowing under the smile. His dimples are wide and his eyes are small, just how Pat liked it. He musters up a smile for his lover.
“Pat! You were right, it does look like pee coming out of the lion’s mouth,” Pran exclaims and even as Pat feels like he would burst into tears anytime, he finds himself choking out a laugh.
“Did you call me just to say that, theerak?” Pat smiles and Pran nods.
“Of course, you wanted to see the Merlion, right?”
Pat’s throat clogs up again; He wishes Sol was here to distract the both of them. Instead, he nods again, unable to form words. His sweet, sweet, boyfriend catches him almost immediately. Pran’s smile falters and Pat curses internally.
“Theerak,”
That was all Pran had to say before Pat’s hands that are holding the phone shakes and his long held sobs escape his lips. The tears roll down his face instantly and Pat couldn’t care less about the other people who had come to pray, giving him weird glances.
“Pat, baby, my Pat,” Pran speaks frantically into the phone. “Baby, look at me, what happened?”
Pat shakes his head. “Nothing,” he chokes out. He looks at Pran and offers him a very wet smile, despite his lips shaking. “Nothing, baby. I’m just- relieved, I’m relieved,”
“Sweetheart,”
God, Pat hated how Pran always knew how to get the words out of him.
“I told Pa about us,” Pat blurts out. “Told him that he can either- join me as my father, and Sol’s grandfather. Or he can forget he even has a son,”
Silence ensues between both of them as Pran watches Pat catch his breath and wait until the crying stops. When he calms down a little, he watches Pran sitting by one of the benches at the park, watching Pat intently.
“.. Do you want me to come back, baby? I still have a week befor-
“Pran,” Pat laughs quietly. “I’m fine, baby. Really,” he reassures his lover. “Mae and Paa are with me. I don’t need him. I don’t need my father if he’s going to disrespect my decisions like this,”
“Babe. It’s okay to feel sad for your father,” Pran whispers. “Don’t hate him for the sake of our future,”
“I’m tired, Pran,” Pat replies. “I’m tired of defending our love for him. I don’t want to be explaining all the reasons why I love you to my father every time he disagrees with something,”
“If my lover does not get the respect he deserves, then my father doesn’t need that kind of respect from me, either,” Pat finishes firmly.
Pran watches him, eyes filled with worry. He opens his mouth to speak again, but they shut after a second. Pran’s eyes go unfocused on Pat’s screen and they don’t look at him anymore. Pat furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
“Pran?”
“Behind you,”
Pat turns around upon hearing his boyfriend’s words and he freezes halfway. He registers his daughter’s gleeful babble at seeing her father after a while. But that wasn’t what caught Pat’s eyes. His father stands awkwardly, holding Sol in one arm, face grim.
Pat pauses, sets his phone down with Pran still connected and moves to take Sol from Ming. “Where’s Paa and Mae?” he asks his father. “I gave Sol to them,” he adds enough for his father to know that Pat was still pissed at him.
Ming was not going to escape this situation like how he does every other time.
Ming rubs his empty hands together and looks around the temple; a habit he does whenever he feels reluctant to admit his mistakes. Pat waits with Sol attached to his hips.
“They said they had to go to the morning market. Wanted to get some fresh mutton for you,” Ming mumbles, clearing his throat.
Pat nods and doesn’t keep his hopes up high. He turns back around and takes his place back on the marble floor of the temple. Pat takes his phone and smiles at the panic on Pran’s face. He makes sure to angle the camera away from his father so that Pran feels at ease.
“Look who came to say hi,” Pat presses his cheek to Sol’s bald head and pushes the camera closer for Pran to see his daughter. Sol is giggling and smiling so widely that Pran could see her whole toothless mouth. Her hands are flailing around and her legs are kicking Pat as she watches Pran through the screen.
“Sol,” Pran smiles wide, eyes crinkling. “Sol, my baby girl. Do you miss your Papa?”
“Not as much as I do,” Pat wants to wink and flirt with Pran like he always does, but the looming presence of his adamant father is felt by him. He couldn’t do anything.
“It’s only been a day, but I feel so lonely without you and Sol by my side,”
“Sol says she misses her Papa too,” Pat answers. “But she also wants you to stay there, work hard and make her other Papa proud. That way, you can give him a grand wedding,”
Pran laughs and it’s like music to Pat’s ears. He finds the heavy burden in his chest lifting off soon enough. Pran stops laughing with a soft hum and a smile at the two people he loved the most.
He is yet again, pulled by the softness of Pat’s smile and his eyes. It was always his eyes for Pran and how they always look differently at everyone. Pran had memorised the way Pat looks at him and he absolutely loved it. If Pran was going to die soon, he would die happily from gazing at Pat’s eyes.
“I love you,” he finds himself saying to Pat.
Usually, his lover would smile wider and reciprocate those three words more fiercely, because no one loved Pran more than Pat himself. But now, Pat tenses up, eyes widening and almost turning his head to the side. Pran probably knew why. So he puffs up his chest, and does not let the fear in him come out.
Pran cocks his head to the side, enough for Pat to notice the bravery and the silent I’m here for you in his eyes. “I love you very much, Napat,” Pran speaks again, more firmly this time. “Go talk to your Pa,”
He doesn’t give Pat the time to reply and ends the call abruptly. Pat pushes his phone into his pocket, sighs and looks up at the Buddha whose smile seems to be very much wider. “What are you doing?” he murmurs to the idol.
When Pat stands up and turns around with Sol hooked on his waist, his father is still standing there, this time, more uncomfortable than ever. Pat could not help but smile at his father’s typical reactions at open affection.
“That was Pran,” Pat steps closer to his father. “He called me to show me the Merlion because I’ve always wanted to see it up close. You would know that about me if you allowed us to go on vacations during my school holidays. But no, you preferred that I attended extra classes and seminars for the next year,”
He feels bad, but also insufferably good when his father flinches. Pat stands absolutely still as he waits for his father to reply with something, anything. Whatever his father says will determine their future relationship. Ming stays silent, as if waiting for Pat to continue speaking.
He would, he has a list of things he wishes to say to his father, but Pat hates reopening old wounds. They hurt the most. Instead, he huffs out a bitter laugh and shakes his head. “I’ll send in my resignation letter soon,” he tells his father. “For the sake of our old relationship, give me some time until I find a new job, Pa,”
Four months later
Dissaya calls Pran one Sunday morning as she digs up the soil in her garden for the plants Praew had bought for her. Pran answers after five rings, not that Dissaya was counting.
“Hi, Mae,” Dissaya hears the fatigue in Pran’s voice and she furrows her eyebrows.
“You sound so tired, son,” Dissaya tsks. “Have you been sleeping well?”
“Of course I am. Last night was just a little tiring,” Pran speaks into the phone. “I was offered my first project. I had to make sure it turns out perfect,”
Dissaya feels the pride swell in her as she coos at her son. “That’s my smart boy,” she cheers. “Don’t overwork yourself too much. How will you have time to find a nice boy to date there?” Dissaya hints.
As usual, her son sighs on the other side of the phone. “Mae.. I told you, I don’t need to date. I’m busy enough as it is,”
Dissaya tsks again, shaking her head as she pulls the hose out to water the plants. “You’re here still stuck up on that cheater’s son while he’s happily living his life with a baby and a new lover,” she could not help it.
Dissaya hated the idea of her son still suffering over that bastard when he’s glowing with happiness, always carrying that baby and smiling at everyone around the neighbourhood whenever he comes to visit. It wasn’t fair for Pran who still remains quiet whenever she brings Pat up.
“W-what?” Pran stutters into the phone.
Dissaya confirms with a hum. “It’s true! He got some girl knocked up and he’s taking care of the child. The neighbourhood ladies told me he even visited her somewhere far and just came back today,”
For a second, Pran sounds amused when he opens his mouth again; “Well, did they say where he went?”
“I’m not sure, but he went to the airport; Auntie Buppha told me during brunch,”
“I see,”
“I don’t like seeing my son so hung up on that worthless man. You see how fast he moved on? He doesn’t love you, Pran. So you should find a better man, so much better than that cheater’s son. I know my Pran can pull any man that he wants,”
Pran hums softly. “What will you say, Mae?”
“Mm?”
“What will you say when I come back home one day with a baby in my hands?”
Dissaya stops her actions, waiting for Pran to specify further. When she’s only met with silence, Dissaya sighs. “What else can I do? It’s not like I can kick you out when you have a baby in your hands. I’ll be disappointed, but you’re still my son, no?”
Again, there is silence on the other side. Until Pran opens his mouth again. “I have to go now, I’ll see you soon, Mae,”
Dissaya doesn’t make Pran to stay longer. Her son was probably tired from working so hard to make a name for himself. She remains proud, the smile of a successful mother intact on her lips. As she continues gardening, Dissaya hears the automatic gates to the neighbour’s home screech open.
She presses close to her wooden fence and peeks at the next house. Pat walks inside with the baby strapped in front of his chest and a luggage bag rolling behind him. His sister walks out to greet him first, still clad in her pyjamas.
“Coming straight from the airport?” Dissaya hears Paa ask as she takes the chubby baby from the carrier. Pat stretches his back with a long groan, twisting his hips left and right to get the kinks out.
“Yeah, I was hungry and he had an early morning meeting after my flight. He couldn’t cook for me,” Pat answers his sister. “Is breakfast ready?”
He? Dissaya wonders. Was Pat dating a man?
She notices Paa nod. “Go freshen up first, you look like you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night,”
Pat yawns on cue, stretching himself long. “Ask the boss over there,” he jerks his chin at the baby who looks innocently at her father. Pat could not stay mad for long; his façade breaks immediately and he leans down to rub his nose with the baby’s button nose.
“I guess it was a new atmosphere for her, but Sol couldn’t sleep on that bed for three whole nights. We had to take turns making her sleep,” Pat pauses, the silence enough for Paa to guess what he was actually mad about.
Paa grimace and mocks a gagging noise. She turns to the baby and coos, “Aw, baby Sol did you give your Papas blue balls?”
Pat shushes his sister, pinching her cheeks before closing the baby, Sol’s ears. “What did I tell you? Sol can’t hear bad words!”
“Why? Because the great Sol Jindapat will punish you in the pits of hell?”
“My baby Sol is an angel; If anything, she’ll be hanging over the clouds with cute wings and a halo,” Pat replies, pinching the baby’s cheek. And then he straightens and frowns at his sister again. “And you’re wrong; She’s not Sol Jindapat.
“She’s Sol Siridechawat Jindapat,”
Dissaya wishes that her hearing was bad. She had wished that she did not just hear that. Alas, Dissaya heard it loud and clear. Sol Siridechawat Jindapat.
Not Sol Jindapat, but Sol Siridechawat Jindapat.
“What will you say when I come back home one day with a baby in my hands?”
Dissaya thinks about Pran’s words just half an hour ago and she drops the hose she had been holding. The Jindapat siblings seem to be too invested in their baby to even acknowledge the water that had begun seeping into their house. They walked inside with Sol Siridechawat Jindapat in tow.
On a particular bad day due to Pat’s fairly new job, his father comes knocking at the door, most probably looking for trouble.
Pat had just finished giving Sol a bath and slipping her chubby legs into the red pyjama pants. He barely gets to slip on the shirt when his doorbell rings. So Pat carries his daughter, fastens her on his hips and walks to the door. He probably looks like shit as he’s still in his work clothes, stained with soap and water along with the sweat from the heat of Bangkok. But Pat couldn’t care less. The only man he wishes to impress is miles away from him.
When he opens the door, he doesn’t expect his father to stand there with a bag of piping hot shark fin soup. Pat stares at the carton for a long time, before his eyes trail up to look at his father that he had not spoken to for moths.
Sol’s legs begin kicking his frozen form impatiently until Pat snaps into focus. “Do you need anything?” he asks his father.
Ming looks around the same way he did when they last spoke at the temple. “Your Mae made extra soup; she told me to bring some for you,”
“Mae makes extra all the time; Paa brings them for me,” Pat retorts.
Ming stays silent at that and Pat grows tired of keeping his hopes high yet again. He sighs and turns behind to look at the clock. “I’ve had a tiring day, if there’s nothing more then I’ll get going,” he takes the shark fin soup from his father’s hand and proceeds to close the door, slowly, on his face.
Ming stops him with a ruffled wait. Pat waits. Ming waits too. Sol is getting impatient as she frowns at the man that made her father leave her half naked before bed. She slaps her chubby fists against Pat’s chest, as if notifying him that he still needs to dress her up for bed.
“May I hold her?”
Pat stares again. Until it actually registers into his head, what his father was asking him. He looks at Sol then back at his father. “Sol?” he asks again and Ming nods bashfully.
“Do I have the permission of holding my granddaughter?” he asks, words rolling out slowly, as if carefully cutting the safe wires in a ticking time bomb.
Pat was hesitant at first, unsure of what his father was planning. But maybe, just maybe his father had chosen his son over his pride. So Pat motions for Ming to enter and closes the door behind them. Then, he hands Sol over to his father.
Ming holds the baby with perfection from his past knowledge of holding Pat and Paa. Pat catches a faint smile on his father’s lips as he gazes at Sol’s frowning face. “Your Mae is right; She does look like Paa when she was a baby,”
Ming and Pat look at each other after months of not even looking. Pat finds his resolve breaking and so does Ming. Not many words were spoken after that.