I swept my hands around the pan in a circular motion, the soapy rag conforming to the grooves. I'd been working for about ten minutes on this pan, and the caked-on black grease wasn't going anywhere.

"How long has it been since you've washed these pans, Mom?" I called out to the living room. Nobody answered. I shook my head in resignation and set the pan on the drying rack.

"You know, Mrs. Odisark, Plumbing can't be fixed with duct tape." Vipins muffled voice came from under the other sink. It had been broken for years. Perhaps this was the reason why it still didn't work. My gaze lingered on him as he struggled to rip the tape from the pipes.

"How should I know that, I'm just a woman," Mother's high voice shuffled from the living room to the linen closet in the hallway, "and stop calling me Mrs. Odisark. Call me Mom, or whatever you fancy."

She was quite good at selective hearing, I concluded, as I hung the dirty dish rag over the faucet neck. Water flecks were scattered all around the sink and walls. I'd made quite a mess. I ripped a square of paper towel off its roll and blotted up the aftermath.

"Oooh...," my mother crooned from the kitchen doorway. I whirled around, slightly startled at how quickly she made it from the hallway to the kitchen. "...Isn't this quaint."

I stared at her expectantly as I wiped my hands on my shirt. Vipin seemed to pay no mind as his work of dismantling the shoddy plumbing job continued without hesitation.

"This looks like a scene from a Better Homes and Gardens magazine from the '50's."

I blinked, and Vipin looked at Mother through the pipes.

"Y'know, with the woman cooking and cleaning and the man doing all the dirty work." She clasped her hands in front of her, like an innocent schoolgirl, 50 years older, with grey-streaked sandy blonde hair, in sweatpants and a faded yellow T shirt with an embroidered white flower on it.

"Oh shut up," I snorted as I crossed the kitchen and tossed the paper towel into the trash, "half the stuff in this house looks or works like it came right from that magazines reject pile in that era."
Vipin chuckled, returning to work.
And indeed, it was. The dark hardwood floors looked as if they had been neglected for years, some boards near the sinks permanently swollen. The cupboards, painted, and chipping. The counter was a garish yellow, with stains in between the small tiles that covered it. The microwave, brown with a fake wooden design on the side, was no longer a microwave since it broke around the time I set off on my own. Now it was a storage space for tupperware. The cupboards mounted to the ceilings looked new, I liked them. They were crafted of handsome dark cherrywood and looked immaculate, compared to everything else. All of the appliances were old, really old. Gifts from Mother's friends and colleagues from waaay back when. Pots and pans hung from nails on the walls, my Father's idea. Mother forgets where these things are. The peeling wallpaper with tiny faded flowers still hadn't been removed, despite my Father's constant vows to do it this summer, the next summer....

Mother chuckled girlishly, ignoring my 'insults' of her old-as-dirt furnishings. She probably goes to the store to get new appliances at least once a month, but forgets and buys something completely different and completely useless.

"So when can I see Dad?" I asked earnestly as tiny knots of worry clenched in my stomach.

"Probably tomorrow," Mother's voice turned wistful as she gazed out the window. Twilight was setting in. The rays from the sun had turned the bottoms of the clouds pink as it dissapeared over the mountainous horizon. Vipin sighed as he eased out of the cupboard and sat on the floor, his hands brushing the dust off his pants.

"Probably gonna have to call a guy in for this, get the pipes replaced. Looks like they've been chewed on by dogs." He flashed me a knowing smirk. I grinned sheepishly and glanced at the wall phone, my expression diluting. I wish I had his room number.

Mother shrugged with an expression mirroring mine, and walked out of the kitchen. Her steps grew fainter and finally ended with the clunking sound of a vacuum being pulled out.

Vipin shifted audibly and I turned, suddenly feeling sorry for him. He didn't ask for this. I felt weighed down with so much baggage, now I'd have to wait some time to find a place on our own. But for now, we're a married couple, living at my parent's house. I felt like I was living in the movie Failure to Launch.

"I'm sorry."

Vipin turned from the sink to look at me.
"For what?"

"For dragging you through all this."

"S'alright. It was my choice to be here. Besides, I'm closer to your family." He smiled charmingly.

"You're living with them. That's too close."

"Doesn't bother me."

"I hope not," I ambled out of the kitchen and collapsed on the couch. Vipin followed and collapsed next to me and pecked me on the cheek. I returned the favor. Mothers favorite broadway movie, Little Shop of Horrors, was playing on TV. I guess she started watching it and forgot, going off to clean the other bedrooms in the house.

"It doesn't." His voice rumbling through his chest soothed my nerves.

Low barking from our dogs in the backyard made Vipin jump. I got up and shuffled from the living room to the breezeway. The heavy door growled in protest as I held it open for the six dogs to scramble inside.

We had three black labradors, two shepherds, and one border collie. The black labs were brothers, gotten from a family nearby whose dog had puppies, the shepherd was a rescue, we had found her wandering around Old US-12, and the border collie was a nearby ex-farmers dog, and we took her off his hands when he lost his farm. Out of all of them, the border collie was the best guard dog. The rest of them were just big babies.

As usual, they stampeded over to Vipin and continued their work of smothering him in licks and dog hair. He laughed, his hands trying to pet all of them so they'd calm down, but their frantically waving tails did not cease as they continued loving on their new friend. I stood there, amused for a long time until I assumed Vipin was getting tired of it.

"C'mon guys, leave Vipin alone for a while," I grabbed three visible collars from the shifting pile of dogs and pulled a bit to direct them in the kitchen. I set their yellowing food bowls down and reached in the cupboard for their food. They panted eagerly, pushing each other as the food poured into the bowl. The remaining three dogs followed the food-sounds into the kitchen as I pulled more of their bowls out and filled them. Finally done, I sauntered out of the kitchen, my knee accidentally hitting the giant watering basin, the water in the plastic container gurgling in reply.

I tried to cover it up by hop-skipping back to the couch, but I think Vipin noticed, as the shadow of a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. On TV Audrey began singing "Somewhere Thats Green," as she dreamed of her future with Seymour.

"Sorry um... we don't have internet here, since my dad is old school and Mother would somehow make the computer explode, so..." I trailed off, recollecting my thoughts, "there's a Library in the city a few miles down the road. If you want to email your sister and them without getting nailed for long distance calls, I can take you there."

Vipin nodded, smiling. I could see in his tender blue eyes that he cared a lot for his family, the family he left behind. The family that was growing in numbers and strength. And now back to square one. Perhaps, he and I will create a family of our own. Someday, somewhere that's green...