She prefers her tea plain these days; no sugar, only adding milk when it happened to be in the kitchen… and now that her children are all grown and living elsewhere, she has no real need to buy it. Her favorite teacup is the porcelain one with a chip on its handle, a scar left over from an old incident she can only strain to remember, and doesn't attempt on a day like today. As she reaches for a second cup and realizes her mistake, the telephone rings.
She knows who it is, and she picks up anyway, simply to silence it.
"Hello, dear."
"Mom, I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you today. I promise I'll be out of here by tomorrow night - at the very latest. You know how it is here…" The voice on the other end pauses. She sips her tea. "Are you doing alright?"
"You don't need to worry about me, Bumi. I can't tell you how prepared I was." And it would never be enough to prepare her, but her son didn't need to hear that from her lips to know.
"Is Tenzin there yet?"
"He should be here in an hour or so."
"Kya?"
"No."
"Well she's probably on her way now. Knowing Kya." She brings the cup to her mouth, blaming the fog in her eyes on her burning tongue.
"I'm sure you're right."
He sighs. She can picture him pacing as far as the telephone cord will allow, free hand probably rubbing at the back of his neck. Then he stops. "When did it happen?"
"Oh…" she thinks back, avoiding certain details of that particular moment in time (like the dull orangeness of the room as the last few candles and the smile on his face refused to fade for her…) "It was about ten or eleven. Late." She was still half-convinced she'd dreamt it all.
"Well you know where to contact me. If you need anything - and I mean anything, Mom - you give me a ring, okay?"
She thinks of how useless that would be, considering his distance. But she says, "you know I will," because that's what she wants to believe, exchanges her "I love you's", and unfolds the morning paper.
It isn't the first time her husband's name has made the headlines.
With trembling fingers, she spins his number; click, click- ring. Ring.
"Actually," she mutters, twirling the cord around her ring finger, "if you aren't too busy-"
"Too busy to catch up with my own mother? Pah!"
Lips quirking into a bow, she pulls over a chair, and sits. "I forgot to mention something your uncle told me the other day - but promise you won't laugh…"