Uncharted (Jersey Girls Book 3)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  “I missed you,” she breathed.

  “You too, baby. More than you could know.”

  Sally stepped back, grabbed the flowers from his hands, and moved toward the kitchen to get a vase. “So, I want to hear how everything went in Texas, but can we make a rule of no business until after dinner? I have some juicy gossip that will go better with the wine.”

  “Sure, I’ll just drop my stuff and I’ll be right back for the feast.” He swung his backpack off his shoulder and headed toward the bedroom, stopping behind Sally on the way and planting a kiss on the back of her head as she arranged the flowers. “You look amazingly beautiful, by the way, as always.”

  “So what’s this juicy gossip?” he asked between mouthfuls of chicken. He sat across the table from Sally, his bare foot creeping across the gap to caress her calf. She grinned and swatted him with her napkin.

  “Patience, you! Well, you know I’m the smartest woman on the planet, don’t you? I’ve come up with a plan for Nandita to stay in the US after her visa expires.”

  Tod looked up from his meal and raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Sal. Doesn’t Satish want Nan to go back to India for a while?”

  “Oh, pish, posh,” she said. “It’s Nandita’s life, isn’t it? You know how I feel about Satish’s controlling behavior.”

  Irritation flicked across Tod’s face and he put down his fork. “I don’t think caring for someone and wanting the best for them is controlling behavior. If that were the case, what would people think of you?”

  Sally felt a stab of anxiety in her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Tod sighed. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m tired. Go on, tell me about your brilliant plan. You know I think you’re an idea goddess.”

  He smiled and her anxiety dissipated. He’d been traveling all day—of course he was tired. “Okay, so there are very few options for extending a student visa, but one of the most reliable ways to get your green card is to marry a US citizen.”

  Tod looked at her blankly. “And?”

  “I spoke to one of our clients who said they had arranged it for a friend of theirs. Did you know there are companies that match you with people who are willing to marry for a fee? I got the number from her, and it’s amazingly inexpensive. Of course, it's all done on the QT, and the marriages aren’t real, but I got the number, and…” Sally stopped. Tod had removed his foot from her calf, stopped eating, and stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “What?” she asked.

  He looked at her for a few more seconds before shaking his head. “Seriously? Have you lost your mind, Sally?”

  She pulled the wine bottle from the bucket perched next to her, the melted ice dripping splotches onto her favorite tablecloth. She poured another glass for herself and topped up Tod’s. He sounded a little angry, but maybe the wine would loosen him up a bit. “So, you’re tired, Tod, and you’ve just had a long trip, but there’s no reason to be disparaging. I think it’s a fabulous idea. I mean, they arrange marriages all the time in India. What’s different about this?”

  “What’s different” Tod raised his voice now, and Sally felt her anxiety fly back. “What’s different about this, Sally, is that it’s illegal and done solely for money. In case you’ve forgotten, an arranged marriage is what Nandita ran away from in the first place. Don’t you realize she would have to live with this guy?”

  Sally felt her confidence draining. It had seemed like the perfect solution to her. Both parties would know the expectations and neither would expect much of the other. If they liked each other, great; if not, the marriage served its purpose and would be over eventually anyway. “Think of the return on investment,” she said. “Nandita could take her time with choosing another grad school—a school that recognizes her worth. She'd be even closer to being the huge success I know she will be. They only have to last four years, or something.”

  “Four years! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, lately.” He put his head in his hands and ruffled his short hair in frustration. Was he about to cry?

  She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. This was what it felt like to be off. Sally didn’t like it—not one bit.

  He squeezed her hand. “Babe, don’t you realize we’ve been married four years?”

  “I don’t see your point.” She picked up her fork and shoved carrots in her mouth. She did not like where this conversation was going.

  Tod took a deep breath and pushed aside the plates on the table. He reached across, took her fork away, and held her other hand in his. “Babe, I love you, but marriage is hard. Sometimes you can be so short-sighted. Not every problem has a snappy Sally solution. Maybe Nandita doesn’t want to be a huge success. Maybe she just wants to find fulfilling work and be surrounded by the people who love her.”

  Sally scoffed. “Who doesn’t want to be a success? Listen, I know what it’s like to languish in the background as a nobody, and, thanks to you for giving me this gallery job, I also know what it’s like to be great at something and want to be even better. Everyone needs to be successful at something.”

  “You’re not listening to me, Sally.” He dropped her hands and the loss of his touch stabbed her in the belly. “Maybe I haven’t been great at talking to you, but you stopped listening to me.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes. Something bad was coming. She steeled herself. “Are you leaving me?”

  Tod looked at her in shock, and a laugh or sob—Sally couldn’t tell which—escaped his lips. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I knew you weren’t listening,” he said. “My problem is that I am leaving you nearly every week. I’m leaving our home and staying in some shitty hotel in some shitty town talking to shitty art collectors. You know I’m good at something, Sal, and I want to be great at it.”

  So, they agreed on something: he wanted to be a great artist. She just needed to explain to him that all this travel would contribute to his career. “Exactly, Tod! I know you’re good at it, and that’s why the travel is so important. It will make you—”

  “No!” Tod’s voice was harsh, and she jumped, her mouth snapping shut in mid-sentence. She gaped at him, surprised by the rare burst of anger. His face softened as he said, “You’ve got it all wrong. The thing I’m good at is loving you. It’s pretty much all I’ve ever wanted to do since the day I met you. I want us to have a family and create a home, and I want to make art for my little, local gallery with my customers who are also our friends.”

  She was shocked. He hadn't told her any of this before, had he? How was she supposed to know all of this if he had never told her? Besides, it wasn’t fair that the world didn’t know and appreciate his art. Didn’t he realize how hard she was working?

  “I can’t believe this, Tod. Do you want a crappy, little, local gallery? I mean, do you have any idea how difficult it is to book these out-of-state showings? Do you know how much work I’ve put into extending your network? Don’t you realize I’m doing all of this for you?”

  Tod stood from the table. “No, babe,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “I think you’re doing it all for you.”

  Sally stared after him in shock as he walked into their bedroom and quietly closed the door.

  10

  Claire – The Apartment

  Claire had felt terrible for the awkward way they had all left the fitting yesterday, so this morning, she woke up, texted Nandita, and offered to take the afternoon off to drive her last remaining boxes from the townhouse down to Princeton. Maureen had only been joking when she’d thrown out that final comment about Nandita not being relaxed and considerate, but she hadn’t realized how uncomfortably close it was to the truth. Nandita must have had an inkling of how her fierce and narrow-minded determination affected herself and others, but Claire also knew she would never admit it.

  She had been heartened by her casual, if not serious, mention that she was willing to go back to India. It was a start, and Claire had been thrilled to share that sliver of hope with her mother-in-law. Mrs. Bh
att’s emails had become a little desperate over the last few days, begging Claire to find out more about her daughter’s state of mind. She had not seemed happy about Satish’s gift of the apartment.

  Is this the best time to leave her alone, without the firm and necessary guidance of yourself and Satish? She had written.

  Claire had sent off a quick message this morning that would cheer Mrs. Bhatt up.

  You’ll be thrilled to know Nandita mentioned her return to India yesterday. She seemed accepting. I will see her at her new apartment in a few hours and will dig a little deeper into her state of mind.

  Claire rang the buzzer on the quaint, bright red street door and waited for Nandita to buzz her in. She hadn’t told Nandita that she was the one who had discovered this heavenly apartment. Satish had been so busy at work when he came up with the idea that Claire had offered to take on the apartment hunting. She’d loved it and spent four or five pleasant mornings strolling the streets of Princeton and wandering through rentals. Most of what she’d seen were terrible student apartments, suffering from over-usage and under-maintenance, but with this one, Claire had walked inside and thought, I could live here. She’d put down a deposit on the spot.

  Now, as she entered the apartment and saw Nandita on the tiny balcony arranging a handful of daisies on the bistro table, she knew she’d made the right decision. Nandita looked as though she belonged here.

  “The boxes are in the trunk, and I found a parking spot in front of Hamilton Jewelers. Do you want to walk over with me and pick them up?”

  Nandita shook her head as she bustled back into the room to fuss with a coffee pot and a tray of croissants. “No, let’s leave it for now. I’ve made breakfast. You’re my first company, so I thought we could sit on the balcony.”

  “Lovely,” Claire said. She dropped her bag on the couch and kicked her shoes off before she took a seat at the balcony table. She stretched her arms far behind her head and tilted her face to catch the warm sun. “Ah, this is perfect. I told Satish you would love it.”

  There was a clang as Nandita put the plate of croissants on the metal table before heading back for the coffee. “I didn’t know Satish understood me this well. I have to say it’s the nicest thing he has ever done. I’m impressed he chose so perfectly.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Claire said, closing her eyes. Satish needed some brownie points with Nan, right now, and she was happy to let him have them.

  She opened her eyes at the sound of a spoon clinking on china and found Nandita smiling at her from across the table. “You look like you could have gone to sleep there,” she said.

  “Mmm. Well, since you’ve moved out, I’ve had a couple of late nights with last minute alterations on the dress.”

  “Late nights, hmm? I bet you have.” Nandita gave her a cheeky grin.

  Claire’s jaw dropped and she grabbed a paper napkin to throw in Nandita’s direction. The breeze caught it, and they both laughed as they watched it float over the balcony and land on the head of a surprised teenager.

  Claire picked up her coffee and pursed her lips around the rim of the delicate cup. The liquid was still too hot to drink, so she blew across the surface. “I’m glad you mentioned going back to India, Nan,” she said, watching carefully for her reaction. “I’m sure your mother misses you.”

  Nandita turned away from Claire, looking out over at Palmer Square and Nassau Street beyond. The students were slowly disappearing as they finished up their last exams and wound up their apartment leases. Soon, the tourists would start arriving; it was always a bustling, energetic town, but it never seemed crowded. Claire knew it was Nandita’s dream home, and she crossed her fingers under the table as she wished for that dream to become a reality for her, chiding herself at the same time for her silly superstitions.

  “She doesn’t miss me,” Nandita said so quietly that Claire almost didn't hear it.

  “I’m sure she does.”

  The young woman turned back to Claire and smiled sadly. “You don’t know my father, Claire, but believe me when I tell you Satish is nothing like him. He is a bitter and selfish man. He doesn’t love my mother like a man should love his wife, and my mother doesn’t love her children as a mother should.”

  “Nandita!” Claire put her coffee cup down. “I’m sure you don’t mean that!”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Claire. I don’t mean to shock you, and I don’t want you to think I feel sorry for myself, because I don’t. I know how hard it must have been for you to grow up without a mother, but when I really needed my mother to protect me, she wasn’t there. My father was too strong; she let him make me leave. She didn’t love me enough to keep me.”

  Claire tried to read Nandita's expression. Could she really believe what she was saying was true? She didn’t sound convincing. Was this her way of dealing with her loss? Was she just finding an excuse to be angry enough to cut her mother off? Claire didn't believe it. Mrs. Bhatt mother sounded very self-assured in her emails, and her letters were upbeat and confident. She was excited to have Nandita home—excited to continue, what she had told Claire, was a healthy and unshakeable relationship.

  The silence stretched out uncomfortably as Claire considered whether she should challenge her statement. She decided to change the subject instead, and reached into her bag. “Here’s the information on that job fair Maureen mentioned. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go.”

  Nan didn’t acknowledge the change of subject and simply reached out to take the paper from Claire’s hand. “Thanks. I will go. I’m going to get a job, you know. You guys weren’t very nice about it yesterday, but I'm not being selfish. I’m just trying to make my own life—the one I want to live.”

  Claire had wondered how long it would take her to bring up yesterday. Truthfully, she felt uncomfortable about having ganged up on her. “I know, Nan. We didn’t mean to make you feel bad. We all care so much about you and want the best for you. We just want you to consider expanding your options, that’s all. Will you promise you’ll consider other avenues?”

  Nandita nodded and was carefully folding the paper when she popped up straight in her chair, as if someone had poked her with a stick. “There he is again! Quick, look!” Claire saw the back of a large, well-dressed man with a broad, strong back retreating toward Nassau Street. “Did you see him? It’s the same guy! He was staring right up here! He was staring at us just now! I think he’s following me!”

  Claire shook her head. “I just saw his back, Nan. What do you mean he’s following you?”

  “Remember we saw him in Hoboken outside of Sally’s apartment? That wasn’t the first time I saw him, and then I saw him yesterday morning right here, almost right where he was just standing!”

  Nandita leaned over the balcony railing to follow the guy's path. He crossed the busy Nassau Street against the light, making a car horn blare loudly. He skipped forward, and as he looked up toward the car, Claire got a glimpse of his face. It was the same guy she’d seen in Hoboken. Looks like Nandita has an admirer. No surprise there.

  “Quite a coincidence. First in Hoboken, now in Princeton?” Claire stepped up to the railing and leaned over with Nan. The man was too far away to see now, but her little sister still stared in his direction with a look of concern on her pretty face. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Nan. I’m sure he’ll introduce himself eventually.”

  Nandita turned in surprise. “You think he wants to meet me? I think he wants to kidnap me.”

  Claire laughed and turned to clear the cups from the table. “Maybe he wants to spirit you away to India and force you into marriage.” She headed toward the kitchen to drop the cups and called back over her shoulder, “I have to get back to the boutique, so I’m headed out. Come with me and pick up those boxes before I go! Maybe we can find your stalker to help us with the heavy lifting.”

  11

  Nandita – The Fair

  The Jacob Javits Center was cavernously large. The ceiling loomed five stories above her as the echoes
of thousands of voices made Nandita’s head spin. Despite all this, optimism swelled in her chest. One of these companies was her future employer—this fair was her moment. Today, she would get a job and visa, prove Claire wrong, and solve all of her problems. She decided to start at the first booth and work her way forward, so she crossed over to a smiling corporate representative in a gray suit with a red pocket square.

  “Hello, I’m Nandita Bhatt. I’d love to chat with you about the opportunities available at your company.”

  The red pocket square man reached out his hand and gave her a broad smile. “Thanks for your interest in Savia, Ms. Bhatt. What interests you about our company?”

  Nandita blanched. What did she know about Savia? Her brain ached as she strained to remember any details she may have heard or read about the company, but it was no good. She could handle this, though—she would just improvise. “Well, I have a keen interest in graphic design. You see, I have a bachelor’s degree in architecture, so my skills would translate easily. I have heard wonderful things about your design department.”

  “You have?” The red pocket square man’s nose wrinkled as he frowned in confusion.

  She decided to roll with it. It seemed like it was going pretty well. “Sure. Savia, right? I mean, everyone has heard of Savia’s graphic design.”

  “They have?” His frown wrinkled even deeper. He looked around for one of his booth mates and motioned to a woman chatting intently with a tall, dark-haired man with his back to them.

  Nandita was momentarily distracted. Didn’t that wide back look familiar?

  She was craning her head to try to see his face when the red pocket square man’s voice rang loudly in her ear, "Hey, Joyce, who heads our graphic design department?”