by Mona Shroff
“After who?” Sam asked.
“Paige. The redhead—you know, your fiancée?” Sarcasm ran thick through her voice.
Sam refused to take the bait. “I came after you.”
Maya smiled, impressed. Maybe he had learned something from Niki’s teenage years. She pulled the coin from her pocket.
Maya heard the smirk in her daughter’s voice. “You’ve been sitting here all this time because I was mad at you?”
Sam sighed, his voice calm, almost tender. “I’ve been sitting here all this time because I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
Silence again. Maya was rooting for Sam. It was not very often that Samantha was rendered speechless. The coin became heavier in her hand.
“Why did you let my mom break up with you?” Samantha’s voice was soft, almost cautious. “You know, back then?”
Maya fingered the coin, turning it around and around. He’d had no choice. Maya had seen to that.
“Why did I let...? What did she tell you?” He was gruff, and Maya pictured his anger.
“Nothing. She never told me anything.”
“I didn’t let her, or at least at the time, it didn’t seem like I was letting her...” He drifted off, and Maya recognized a lace of regret. “I went back for her. Once. But...she wasn’t having it.” He paused. “I wish I had gone back again. Then maybe I’d at least have found out about you.”
Doubtful. She flipped the coin through her fingers, noting the identical head on each side. Tears burned behind her eyes. She should have trusted him.
“Didn’t you love her?” Curiosity was getting the best of Samantha. There was hardly a trace of teenage sarcasm.
“Well, yes.”
Maya snapped out of her revelry.
“At the time.”
An unexpected letdown as Maya’s heart fell into her stomach. Well, what the hell did she expect? That he still loved her now? Ridiculous.
“Well then I don’t understand how—”
“Samantha, all that doesn’t matter now. All that is...past. I want to be in your life. I don’t need or want that test at all.”
“Yeah, you do.” Maya stood and entered the room. “You need it for proof for the media, once you make your bid. Better to just have it, otherwise they’ll come after Samantha.”
Sam stood. “I’ll take care of the media.”
Maya shared a look with her daughter. Samantha nodded at her mother. “No, it’s all right. I’ll do it.” She looked from Maya to Sam, a slow grin filling her face. “So, by the way, were those my grandparents?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
SAM
Maryland, 1996
IT WAS MIDMORNING and already sticky outside. The sun mocked him with its happy yellow color and blinding brightness. Whatever it seemed to promise, it would only deliver another sweltering hot August day. Sam parked in front of Maya’s uncle’s house and left the cool of the car for the heavy, clammy air.
He knocked and waited on the porch. This was where she had first kissed him. He could still feel her lips as she had firmly kissed him, surprising him. He could still smell the honeysuckle scent of her as it had mingled with the cigarette smoke and smell of fresh grass at that concert.
Maya opened the door and Sam’s stomach knotted as she stepped out. His hands shook, so he shoved them in his pockets. Her hair was neatly tied in a ponytail and her eyes appeared sunken and hard, devoid of the love he had seen in them only two days ago, and she was surprisingly pale. The lips he could so clearly remember kissing him were set in a hard line. He tried to sound casual, but he knew his voice sounded lost. “Can we walk?”
“Here is fine.” Sam shivered from her tone, despite the heat of the day. Maya squinted in the sun and tilted her head. “What do you want, Sam?” Under her gaze, he became aware of the fact that he hadn’t shaved, or slept, or really even eaten in two days.
You. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I need to explain about the other night.” A strand of her hair escaped the ponytail. Sam automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. She stepped back out of his reach. His rejected hand hung frozen for a second or two before he willed it back to his pocket.
“Nothing to explain.” Maya didn’t sound angry or disappointed or anything. Her voice was devoid of emotion. How could that be? He studied her face and Sam could see her eyes were red and there were dark circles under them. The flat voice continued, “It’s pretty clear to me that whatever we had this summer was just a way for you to pass the time.”
Sam’s eyes flew open wide and he felt a flush of adrenaline. He edged closer to her. If he could touch her, she’d know what she was saying was ridiculous. “What? How did you get...no! That’s not...” She backed away from him, almost as if afraid. He stopped. “You can’t really believe that!” He knew he was blabbering. “I know I’ve had other girlfriends in the past, but they didn’t mean anything compared to how I feel about you.”
“You know, Sam.” Maya smirked at him. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I get it. It’s not—” she paused and took a deep breath. She looked him directly in the eye. “It’s not like I was in love with you or anything.”
The blood drained from his head and he grabbed the railing, her words a physical blow. “What are you saying? When we were in Virginia—” He stumbled on the words, his eyes darting wildly. “This whole summer...you said...” Why was she saying these things?
Maya raised her eyebrows at him, amusement filling her face. “You said things, too, Sam. Doesn’t make them true.”
Sam was speechless. It was a lie? The whole summer, what he thought they had meant to each other...none of it was real?
“Goodbye, Sam.” She cleared her throat. “The summer’s over, so...”
“No, Maya. Let me explain. The coin—”
She shook her head. “I don’t care about that coin.” She swallowed. “Or you.”
Sam stepped close enough to her to be enveloped by her honeysuckle scent. It made him light-headed and he longed to feel her body against his and undo whatever it was that he had done. He knew his eyes were frenzied and his voice was severe. There was only one way to get the truth. “Tell me you don’t love me.” He leaned in, daring her, through gritted teeth, “Say it.” There was no way she could say the words. He knew it.
Her face was stoic. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I don’t love you.”
Sam stared at Maya in disbelief as a wave of nausea flooded over him. She turned and gracefully walked back into the house without so much as a goodbye. He stood on the porch, paralyzed.
Once, when Sam was five, Arjun had been very angry and had kicked a soccer ball at him with all his might. The ball hit young Sam dead in the belly, the force throwing him backward to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, his head pounded from hitting the dirt and he had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Sam did not cry, but he remembered wondering how someone he loved could hurt him so.
What happened next occurred in a fog. He pounded on the door, called out to her. An older woman with skin the same color as Maya, and eyes as fierce as the depths of night, stepped out and told him to leave. She repeated herself until Sam finally turned on his heel, leaped down the two porch steps and headed toward his car.
If she didn’t love him, there was no reason for him to stay. He tapped the coin in his pocket. It had never steered him wrong. Until now.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SAM
New York, 2012
SAM HESITATED FOR a beat just before turning the knob to enter his apartment. He’d barely just made peace with Samantha, and now he had to face Paige. And his parents. No doubt all three of them were here waiting for him. He walked into his apartment and confirmed what he already knew.
“Hello, everyone.” He tossed his key on the hall table and headed for t
he bar. His mother was murmuring to Paige, who threw furtive looks in his direction as his mother continued to pat her hand. He needed at least two fingers of bourbon for this conversation. “Dad, bourbon?” he called out.
“Uh, no, son. We were just leaving.” He stood. “C’mon, Hema. Let the kids talk.”
His mother did not budge.
“How about it, Mom? Bourbon?” Sam grinned at her as only sons could to their mothers when they knew they were in trouble. He sipped. The liquid was cool, almost soothing.
His mother finally stood and faced her son. “Don’t you grin at me like that, young man!” Suddenly Sam felt like he was eight years old and had broken a dish, or like he was sixteen and had had a fender bender. Or maybe he was twenty-three and had fallen in love with the wrong girl. “Start talking.”
“It’s pretty clear, Mom. Maya was pregnant when we broke up.” He shrugged in a grand gesture of sarcasm and nonchalance as he took a gulp of soothing bourbon. “She didn’t tell me, and she went on her merry way.” Paige’s eyes were red-rimmed. That was his fault. He softened and moved toward her. “Paige, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—”
His mother blocked his way, his fiancée’s guard. “You can apologize to her later. Tell me, what reason did that Maya give for keeping this secret?”
Sam had rarely seen his mother so agitated. Her words shook, and her Indian accent got thicker with her mounting rage. Pretty soon, she’d give up on English altogether.
“Mom, calm down. You can’t get all worked up like this.” Sam looked to his father for support.
“He’s right. Take it easy, Hema. I’m sure Sammy got all the answers he needed. He’s right—getting this worked up is not good for you.”
Hema turned on her husband. “You two always play the cancer card to get me to back down. I’ve been fine for years!” She approached Sam, her eyes wild. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so upset. “What. Reason. Did she give?”
Sam downed his bourbon and set down the glass. “She said—” He hesitated as he looked to Paige. Her sad eyes brimmed with tears, her bottom lip trembled. Her normally perfect red tresses were flat and tucked uncharacteristically behind her ears. Guilt stabbed at him. He answered his mother, unable to turn away from Paige. “She said it was because of Bridget and that coin.”
Paige was confused. “What coin?”
“Bridget was trying to get you back. Not to mention she was lying,” Sam’s dad said.
“Yeah, but I was twenty-three. I was stupid and I didn’t handle it well. I never told Maya what Bridget was up to—she assumed the worst.” Sam remembered it well. He had been annoyed that Bridget wouldn’t just let him be. He’d known she wasn’t pregnant, but he had wanted to focus on Maya at the time.
“Doesn’t seem like enough for her to keep your daughter from you.” John sounded confused. “There’s got to be more.”
“That’s all she said.” Sam shrugged and dropped his arms.
“I thought you explained about that coin.” His dad’s brow was furrowed. “Didn’t you go back?”
The pain on Paige’s face was killing him. She didn’t need to be hearing all this. But he answered his father. “I did. She wouldn’t listen.” He flicked his eyes toward his father. “You remember?”
John touched his nose. “Of course.”
“Well, if that’s all it took for her to keep this from you, then it is just as well she left.” His mother gathered her things, seemingly satisfied. She turned to Paige and smiled, almost triumphant. “She was never right for him the way you are, dear.”
“What coin?” Paige repeated herself.
“It was Arj—my brother’s. He had this old coin he used to toss around. He gave it to me the day he—he gave it to me. Turned out to be a two-headed coin.” Sam glanced at his dad, avoiding his mother’s eyes. “I used it a few times, for...things, and she got pissed. She didn’t know it was two-headed.”
“Can I see it?”
“I...uh, I don’t have it.” Sam could feel his father’s surprise and avoided his gaze.
“So, now what?” John asked.
“So, now you have a grandchild.” Sam’s laugh was weak.
His dad’s eyes lit up, even as he shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t...” He stopped and swallowed and Sam noticed tears in his father’s baby blues. “That’s fabulous!”
His mom went pale. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Samantha’s my daughter, so she’s your granddaughter. And she’s pretty amazing.”
“But she’s also Maya’s.”
“So?” Sam narrowed his eyes at his mother.
“So, do you think I’m going to accept Maya’s daughter after what she did to you? After she broke your heart like that?”
“Yes, I do.” Sam was firm. “She’s not just Maya’s daughter, she’s mine, as well. So I expect you to accept her.”
“We’ll see about that.” His mother stormed to the door. “Come, John. It’s time to go.”
John turned to Sam, a silent, don’t-worry-she’ll-come-around look in his eye. He hugged his son tight, an almost giddy look on his face as he whispered, “A granddaughter!” He waved to Paige and they left.
Sam went to his fiancée. “Finally.”
Paige nodded.
“I’m really sorry. I should have told you from the beginning, but honestly, I could barely get my head around it...”
She walked toward their bedroom without speaking.
“Paige, talk to me.”
She turned before she opened the door. “I know you’re sorry, and ultimately, I’ll understand that you needed a few days to ‘process.’”
“So then why do feel like I’m sleeping on the sofa tonight?”
“Because when it came down to it, you went after your daughter with her, and left me standing there.” She walked into the bedroom and shut the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MAYA
New York, 2012
MAYA LIT THE cotton-and-butter wick on the last diya and looked around to check her handiwork. The coffee shop was bathed in soft light from the flickering diya, as it was every year for Diwali. Aromas of onion, garlic and garam masala from tonight’s dinner of palak paneer, chicken tikka and fresh naan wafted down to her all the way from her mother’s apartment. She and her mother always closed the shop on this day to celebrate the coming of the new year. It used to be just her, her mom and Raju-kaka, along with Ami and her family. Deepak-mama and his family had come on occasion, but it wasn’t always convenient for them to make the trip from Maryland. She would miss them again this year. As the years passed, Ajay started to join them, along with his family. When they’d added fireworks, the neighbors had wanted in on the fun. Now, their annual Diwali gathering was highly anticipated in the neighborhood, and they usually maxed out the capacity of the coffee shop.
After everything was in place, Maya dashed upstairs to put on her sari and help Samantha into her outfit. This year, Maya had donned a burgundy chiffon sari with a smattering of beadwork. Simple, elegant, yet festive. Samantha was wearing a chaniya choli—a short blouse and floor-length skirt with a half-length sari wrapped around her—also in burgundy. Maya was leaning toward the mirror to properly center her chandlo, when Samantha paused in the doorway.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Samantha rushed in and took the tiny adhesive jewel and centered it on Maya’s forehead. “Gorgeous! Nani wanted me to tell you to hurry because people are here.”
“Well, let’s go then.” Maya grabbed a tray of food and went down to the shop to greet her guests. Her mother and Raju-kaka were already mingling with everyone, just as they should be. They looked so natural together, greeting everyone with a “Happy Diwali!” and their hands clasped together in front of them in namaste.
Raju-kaka kept a protective hand on the small of her mo
ther’s back, and she allowed him to direct her in this way. This small gesture added to Maya’s lightness in the spirit of the holiday, and she caught Raju-kaka’s eye. He winked at her, handsome as ever in his cream sherwani tunic and matching cream bottoms, with a bright blue scarf that conveniently matched the exact shade of her mother’s sari. She carried the warm tray to a table near the counter where they had set up a buffet table and returned to her mother and Raju-kaka. She bent down to touch their feet for blessings, as was the custom. As always, they stopped her halfway, insisting that the gesture of respect was not necessary. Her mother hugged her tight and joined in the laughter surrounding her. Raju-kaka glowed, unable to tear his eyes from his love.
People milled about, chatting and laughing, the festive beat of the tablas and Bollywood music providing the track for their fun. Maya pushed aside her troubles from the week and lived in the moment. Thoughts of Sam were pushed away. Or at least pushed to the back of her mind.
Diwali was the eve of the new year. It was the celebration of light over dark. Historically, this was the day that Ram and his wife, Sita, along with his brother, Laxman, returned to their hometown of Ayodhya after having been banished to the jungle for fourteen years. For Maya, it had been the first time anyone had celebrated the fact that she was pregnant with Samantha. A young girl, pregnant out of wedlock, no sign of the father—in her world, this was unheard of. She had felt banished herself. Sure, her mother was a single mother—but at least she had been married. Sunita had been convinced that Maya’s future was bleak, and her uncle and aunt had just looked upon her with disappointment dripping from their very beings.
But that Diwali, she had been three months pregnant, and panic was setting in, because she was starting to show. Raju-kaka had taken her into his arms and told her it was a new beginning. He scolded Sunita, and told her to get over herself, that Maya shouldn’t be treated like an outcast for falling in love—especially by her own mother. It was the only time Maya had ever seen Raju-kaka angry with her mother.