by Sonali Dev
Brandy’s smile was watery, and soft. It completely transformed her, shaving years off her face and stripping her of every bit of ice. “Ellie’s everything to me. All I have. She’s a great kid, hardworking too. I promise she’ll be a big help. You don’t have to pay her. Or maybe you could tell her you’re paying her but I could give you the money.”
India took her hands off Brandy and pressed them into her own chest. “Of course we’ll pay her. No one works here without pay. And we do need someone. Also, what you’re suggesting is completely dishonest and your relationship seems based on trust. If you did pay an employer to pay her, it would break her confidence when she finds out, wouldn’t it?”
Brandy looked up at the sky. India had no firsthand knowledge, but from what she’d seen China, Sid, and herself put Tara through, parenting was not an easy business. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. It’s just hard to see someone you love get hurt.”
“Don’t I know it.” India rubbed her hands together and folded them in her lap.
Brandy watched her. “That . . .” She pointed to her back over her shoulder. “That felt really good. Was that Reiki or something?”
India nodded. “It’s just energy flow. I wasn’t . . .”
“No, that felt great. Thank you.” Then she looked terribly embarrassed, and India knew what she was going to say. “I’ve never shared what I just told you with anyone else. I don’t know why I told you.”
All India could do was smile. “Don’t beat yourself up. I tend to have that effect on people. Occupational hazard.”
Brandy returned her smile. “He’s doing okay, by the way. In case you were wondering. Working himself to death. But he doesn’t startle at sounds or hesitate before going onstage anymore.”
I don’t know who you’re talking about, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t tell a lie that stark, that significant. For all that Brandy had shared with her, this was what India had been waiting to hear. What kind of person did that make her?
It had been four weeks since she’d seen him. His campaign was going well, he was still far ahead in the polls. The assassination attempt was still in the news every day, but he was using it to talk about gun-sense, as he called it, and pushing affordable health care for all.
In the end, she nodded at Brandy. “Thanks. I’m glad.”
The sound of laughter wafted out of the studio, and they turned to see China and Ellie cracking up about something. Brandy looked like someone had punched her in the heart.
India stood and held out her hand. “China has always known her mind, and she is stronger than you’re giving her credit for.” Although India had decided not to let her own worry get in the way of her sister’s happiness, India hoped that China’s strength would never be tested. “You’re also jumping to a heck of a lot of conclusions here, all of which violate someone’s right to keeping their life private.”
Brandy took her hand and stood. Why had India thought of her as cold? The way she stared through the glass door at her daughter, the way she looked genuinely remorseful when her glance shifted to China, it was like looking at someone entirely different than the person India had judged her to be.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interfered,” Brandy said, looking like she meant it. “It’s just that sometimes people who appear strongest on the outside can hurt the hardest on the inside.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It had been a week since Yash had run out of the Anchorage in the middle of the attempted engagement. In an unprecedented occurrence, no one from the family had hunted him down. Possibly because they had realized how ridiculous it was to have brought this up so close to the election. But more probably because he’d been on the road again. His entire campaign strategy was a ground game. Door-to-door.
“I will explain when I’m ready. I don’t have the time for it right now. Handle it,” he’d texted Nisha after the first burst of texts from her.
Never before had he spoken to his sister like she was an employee. Never before had she let him get away with acting like her boss. But here they were. Obviously, she’d taken care of it.
The last debate had been yesterday in San Diego, and preparing for that while trying to counter Cruz’s relentless campaign in SoCal was enough to keep everyone busy.
Naina had left for Nepal to pack up and hand over her responsibilities. He’d found out from Nisha. Naina and he hadn’t communicated since she’d threatened him.
If he let himself think about that conversation, he’d never be able to stop thinking. For all these years he’d ignored what he had lost because he hadn’t known what to do with his reaction to India. He’d been a coward and taken the easier way out. Now he’d dug up all he’d buried and he knew exactly what he’d lost. He knew.
The election, Abdul’s treatment, managing his family’s worry, those were things that needed all his focus. Those were things he couldn’t risk. They were also things that he could control right now, and he needed that to keep going.
There was nothing controlled about how badly he wanted to go to India. He wanted to dive into the ocean of peace that was her presence. The deep anchor of her eyes, soothing, magical, stronger than he’d ever be. He wanted it with the kind of hunger that had no measure. Years ago it had terrified him. But he hadn’t even known what fear was. Fear was knowing that living without her was living half a life.
Maybe he had healed. Or maybe the years had given him scabs that protected him. Or maybe being able to be the him he was with her again had shown him what he’d lost. He didn’t know how to lose that again. He didn’t know how not to. He didn’t know how he could hurt her like that again, but he also knew that he already had.
Truth was that there was no way for them to be together without the risk of destroying everything. Still, his finger hovered over the number she’d tapped into his phone every moment that he allowed himself to not be entirely submerged in the campaign.
He took the hospital elevator to Abdul’s floor. He was flying out to L.A. tonight to be on Good Morning America tomorrow morning. Constant motion was the only way for him to keep going. But he’d wanted to see Abdul before he left.
“His wife’s with him right now,” Myra, the on-duty nurse, said in her kind way.
“Thanks. I’ll wait outside. I won’t disturb her.”
They had crossed the seven-week mark since the shooting. One part of Yash was terrified that it had been that long. The other part was sure that meant something.
You’ve done your part. Trust the universe to do the rest.
Her voice in his head was all he had of her and he embraced it.
When he passed the glass window of Abdul’s room, he stopped short. Sitting next to Abdul, her hands on his chest, was India. Her eyes were closed, her face leached of color, her head bent, making her dark hair fall across her forehead. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming her up.
On the floor next to India and Abdul, Arzu was saying prayers on a mat.
Time stilled. The constant need to spin stilled. Yash watched the scene before him, the power of what he was witnessing so strong it swallowed him whole. A weightlessness overtook his body. Every bit of helplessness that had been dragging at him stilled.
He’d been obsessively practicing the pranayama India had taught him every morning and meditating through the surya namaskar. He’d become addicted to the escape of centering his mind and body as one. That’s how this felt, this letting go, this being fully immersed in something out of his control.
It felt good.
Like someone had sliced the ropes tying him up with the sharpest blade. One flick, the cut clean and quick. He was unbound.
The hypnotic hold of the moment released him when Arzu finished, folded her mat, and stood. Her prayer-heavy gaze shifted to her husband. If Abdul could see her expression, the sheer fierceness of it might wake him.
Yash was smiling when Arzu caught his eye. She smiled back, and he made a rolling action with h
is hand to indicate that she should carry on, he was about to leave anyway. With a nod she sat down next to India, who opened her eyes slowly, rubbed her hands together, and took Arzu’s hands in hers.
They seemed familiar with each other. When had that happened? How? Before India could catch him soaking her up with his eyes, he tried to make his escape. He almost made it too, but she caught his gaze. The feeling of peace was immediate and immersive. The hot spark that traveled through his chest brutal. For a moment he thought she’d rise and come to him. For a moment he thought he’d go to her. For a moment the world brimmed with potential, brightened with hope. Then she turned to Arzu and he left.
The off-kilter beating of his heart stayed with him when he stopped by Trisha’s and Abdul’s doctor’s offices for an update. It didn’t ease when he made his way to the lobby none the richer for any new information on Abdul, or on Tara. Trisha had gone to see her, but she wouldn’t give him any details.
Minutes after he left Trisha’s office his phone buzzed with a message from Nisha. “We need to meet.”
Evidently she’d just been waiting for him to be done with the debate and to get back in town before hunting him down.
“Packed schedule today,” he responded.
“You realize I know your schedule, right?” Nisha shot back. “You have another few hours before you leave for the airport again. Your photo op at the bookstore just got canceled.”
“I told you I need space. Please.”
He waited for her to tell him that he’d had a week since the engagement debacle, which was a week more than anyone else in the family would’ve gotten after pulling something like that.
“I’m worried about you,” she texted instead, using I, not we, which was telling.
“Stop worrying. I’ll call after L.A.”
“Fine, but I also need to talk to you about the surprise baby shower you’re all planning.”
Yash smiled. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he typed, and then tucked his phone into his pocket.
Ashna, Trisha, and Ma were planning the shindig next month. It had been hard to find a date. They’d planned it for last month, then the shooting had happened. Ashna wanted to do it in the renovated Curried Dreams, but like all renovation projects that one had overshot its completion date. So the shower would happen at the Anchorage next month, just before Nisha finished her seventh month of pregnancy.
Trisha had just told him that Nisha had been trying to get one of them to slip up and tell her about it, because she didn’t want to be caught in something dowdy just because they wanted to surprise her. Not that anyone had any idea what Nisha being dowdy would look like.
“Where to, boss?” Brandy was waiting for him in the lobby. She wasn’t anywhere near as hands-off as he’d thought her to be when he’d first met her.
“The bookstore canceled so we’re done for today. Rico’s driving to the airport with me later.” Brandy didn’t travel with him. The security agency used local bodyguards for events. “Go on home. Ellie’s probably waiting for dinner.” They headed for the exit, stopping a few times so he could shake hands with people and take selfies, before making their way to the parking lot under a gloomy evening sky.
Brandy kept pace with him easily as they strode across the concrete. It was an unseasonably warm day, and his sports coat felt oppressive around him. Usually, he couldn’t get enough layers of clothing on his body.
“Ellie’s working late today, but she’ll be done soon, since India just left here. If you’re sure you’re headed home, I’ll get Ellie from the studio before I do the same.”
Being thirty-eight and having one word resonate like a gong out of a long sentence was completely and utterly juvenile.
Call him juvenile. “You saw India leave?” Just saying her name was like a pressure valve releasing.
Brandy studied him the way one studied roadkill twitching by the roadside.
“Ellie works at the studio?” he said, throwing another question at her before she’d had the time to address the first.
She nodded. “China set her up. She’s a receptionist there for a few hours a day or whenever India needs her.”
“That’s great. She likes it?” Was he really coveting a teenager’s part-time job?
“Loves it. The only downside is that having India for a boss is going to set completely unrealistic expectations of the workplace.”
His face must have done something to expose how that affected him, because she cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean you’re not a great boss too. You are. Actually, you’re both . . .” She trailed off awkwardly as they reached her car.
Part of him was relieved that she’d misread his reaction. The other part suspected that she’d done it to save him the embarrassment of being so transparent about his feelings. Especially since she, and everyone else in the world, believed him to be with Naina.
Instead of getting in her car, she lingered. “I’m glad Ellie is helping India. Especially since China’s gone and she’s by herself taking care of the studio and Tara.” Her tone was studiedly casual.
This information shouldn’t have hit Yash like a bat to the head, but it did. India was alone.
“Where’s China?” he asked.
Brandy informed him, in the most clipped of monotones, that China had gone to South Korea.
She didn’t add that China had gone with Song. She didn’t have to. Yash had seen them together. Something about the entire business made worry for China stir inside him, which meant India had to be freaking out, and unable to show it.
Brandy cleared her throat, because Yash was frozen in place again.
“You said you saw India when she left the hospital?” Now that he’d opened those floodgates, he had to keep talking about her. “Did she say why she was here?”
“Between Tara and Abdul, she’s been coming here every day,” Brandy said with the friendly familiarity his sisters used while talking about India.
“Since when? And how do you know this?”
“We hang out. I see her when I drop off and pick up Ellie. I’m also taking yoga classes from her. She’s very good.” She rolled her shoulders. “Everything loosens right up. She’s been seeing Abdul for weeks now. Arzu asked her to give him Reiki.”
How had she even met Arzu? She had to have gone back to see Abdul after their foray that night. He texted with Arzu everyday. How had she not told him?
“I had no idea,” he said, mostly to himself. “We haven’t . . .” Does she ask about me? “How is she?”
Brandy looked as if she couldn’t seem to decide if she wanted to shake him or feel sorry for him. “It’s been tough. She’s strong. But you already know that.” Something about her tone made discomfort roll down his spine.
He’d been on the road almost every single day of the five weeks since he’d seen her last. He’d kept his focus on the campaign, and told himself that she was safe in her own world. Now the restlessness of knowing that she’d been alone after he’d left her again, with China gone and Tara sick, made his stomach turn.
Before he knew it, he’d opened the passenger door of Brandy’s car. “Why don’t I go with you? I’d love to meet Ellie again.” He got in the car and waited for Brandy to get in.
If his behavior surprised her, she didn’t show it. She just got in and started driving.
Yash had missed the turquoise door.
Brandy pulled it open and went inside with the ease of a frequent visitor, and Yash felt the way he often did, like an outsider looking in. It was a feeling he had always been completely comfortable with, but he hated feeling that way here in India’s home, in her space. With her it had always been like being inside something that belonged to the two of them alone, their place from where they could watch the outside world together.
He followed Brandy inside. India waved to Brandy from behind the registration desk where she was working with Ellie. Her smile was like an intravenous shot of adrenaline. It woke every part of him up.
When her eyes fell on him, her smile slid right off her face. She stood, then froze as though unable to unlock her limbs.
“Hi,” he said to Ellie, who threw a look from him to India and then to her mother.
Brandy waved her daughter over. “Ready to leave?”
He barely noticed as Ellie gathered her things, and they left.
India and he stood there, gazes locking and unlocking, bodies suspended in time. Complete and utter rightness braided through his being in electric bursts.
How did he keep forgetting how beautiful the sight of her was? Hair thick and shiny as spun obsidian, skin luminous, mouth lush and wide with that distinctive scar, eyes he had missed more than he’d ever missed anything in his life.
Finally she spoke. “Why are you here?” Her voice was soft the way it always was. That soft strong thing she had going on. Silk and steel, that pulled at him like a damn magnet.
“Yash?” Her eyes held his for just another second, then her gaze moved away to a point behind his head. His name on her lips, a sizzle on a hot pan.
“I don’t know. I’m here to see Chutney.”
“Okay, she’s upstairs.”
“I miss her.” God, he was pathetic.
She looked like she was going to cry, or burst with frustration. She might have done a groan-sob, as though she wanted to shake him. He wanted her to. Just so she would touch him. He’d never wanted a woman to touch him. When Naina had, he’d had to brace himself, had to breathe through the coldness.
He followed India up the stairs, familiar smells engulfing him, incense and whole spices and aged wood and dog slobber. Chutney’s tail went off in a spin when she saw him. With ecstatic yips she rolled over, then let out a long high-pitched whine.
“I feel exactly the same way, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing her belly like a man starved for this unconditional love.
India tried to act like she didn’t hear him, didn’t see him.
“Brandy said China’s gone to South Korea,” he said, still rubbing.
“She left last week.”