Fiction: Home is…

Time hangs heavy on my hands as I bustle around doing this and that. It’s not even 6 hours since I woke up and it feels like days. In an unusually productive Saturday morning, I’ve cleaned and scrubbed, prepped for the week, done my grocery shopping and made lunch. I take as much time as possible to make lunch because I don’t quite know what else to do. My heart feels heavy and there’s a certain restlessness that rises from deep within.

I settle down in front of the TV with lunch intending to watch some mindless entertainment. Instead, I find myself drifting off in different directions. My mind wanders. To a conversation earlier today. He’s travelling again. For work. I’m not sure when he’ll be back. He said it would be a week. It’s been ten days since he left with everyday promising to be the last. Tears threaten to flow. I hate feeling this way. I hate this emotional dependency. I shake my head, as if to snap out of this morose mood I’ve found myself in. I pull myself together and finish lunch.

As I carry my plate to the sink, I find my mind drifting again. I busy myself in trying my hand at baking. This is one thing I haven’t been able to do without his help. Today, I’m determined to change that. I immerse myself in the task at hand, carefully measuring and mixing. It takes me four hours. I’m grateful for the time that passes. And before I know it, it’s late afternoon. I sink into the couch for some rest.

It’s two hours later that the brass knocker on the door wakes me from the involuntary nap I seem to have taken. I look at the clock. It’s 6.30. Who could it be? Perhaps a neighbour needs something. I open the door and can’t believe my eyes.

“Kannamma…” The words fill me up with an indescribable joy. He’s back. As if on cue, the oven timer goes off, filling the house with the aroma of freshly baked bread. “You baked?” His question is full of surprise, happiness and laughter. Yes. I did. He steps in and gathers me in his arms. “It feels great to be home.” Yes darling. It feels like home finally, I say as I melt into his embrace.