NINETEEN
We were headed to the hospital. No waiting-for-the-labor-to-begin fun for me, the doctors had decided. The baby had to be delivered immediately. It was measuring three weeks behind at thirty-six weeks. My doctor could not wait anymore and did not want to take her chances if the birth happened during the holiday time when the hospital operated on a skeleton crew. In a way, I was thankful that closure was near.
Inside the cab, Ma arranged and rearranged the bags on the floor. An arc of gold dust shimmered in through the car window, tracking her every move. Every few minutes, she opened a bag in a panic, certain that she had forgotten something. Baba, who was seated next to the cabdriver, turned around after many such searches and gently commanded Ma with his eyes to calm down. She
