Scattered Ashes

by Dona Sarkar

  It didn’t matter. Like it had been yesterday, it continued to be over. He had decided that for us. There was no point in even spending time thinking of it.

  “Lana asked you to spend the night already?” I couldn’t help but ask Vivek as I unwrapped one of the sandwiches.

  He eyed the bag longingly until I passed it to him. “I stayed in the guest room. Had too much wine last night.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I did.” He gestured behind him to where the guest room was. Sure enough, the door was open, the bed unmade. “I thought it would be nice to make breakfast for Lana.”

  Normally, I would yell at him, but I felt too horrible after sleeping for over twenty-four hours. I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation with Lana or anyone else and just wanted to put some food in my stomach and go back to burying myself in my bed.

  “Lana doesn’t eat,” I mumbled from around a bite of peanut butter. “She definitely doesn’t eat breakfast.”

  “She eats my cooking. I made a green lasagna, and she had almost half.”

  Green lasagna? I knew she wouldn’t eat that.

  Lana used to love to eat; she used to be quite the foodie. One of the few things she and my father had loved to do was try new restaurants every weekend. Those had been their date nights: three-course meals at the most unusual restaurants, from Tom Douglas’s Pacific Northwest classics to eclectic holes-in-the-wall. Ever since my father had started to deploy more often, her interest in food had dwindled to the point where I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her eat anything. Her waistline had also declined to the point of where she was thinner than me or any of my friends.

  “Why do you call her Lana?” Vivek asked me, having devoured his sandwich in under a minute. He had a trace of jelly on his chin, which I was tempted to point out but didn’t. I was still annoyed with him for waking me from my first good night of sleep in weeks and for wandering around in my house as if he lived here. I was too preoccupied with my own issues to waste energy being angry with him and would sit back and hope he was one of Lana’s phases.

  “I don’t know. Just habit. I don’t think she likes being called ‘Mom’ anyway.” The truth was, I had never thought of Lana as a mother. Not even once.

  “These are some good PB&Js, by the way.”

  “My father’s recipe. Did Lana tell you about him?” I couldn’t help but slip that in.

  Vivek stopped fiddling with the ice maker. “Yes, she did. I’m sorry to hear about him. She still loves him very much, you know.”

  “It’s you who will be sorry when he comes home.” I swallowed.

  “Uh-huh. Anyway, I know what’s wrong with the refrigerator.”

  “What?” I crumpled up the paper bag.

  “You guys need a new one.”

  I rolled my eyes. That seemed to be everyone’s solution. Throw out the old if it was inconvenient and get something new and shiny.

  “One with a digital reading on the outside. I saw some cool ones at that appliance store in Bellevue.”

  “Fine, but right now you need to finish all the ice cream in there. And all the other stuff. You don’t want it to go to waste.” I tried not to smirk as he gauged my face to see how serious I was being.

  “For real?”

  “Yeah. Lana hates it when people waste food. Big pet peeve of hers. She’s on the board of three food-drive charities, you know.”

  I couldn’t believe how gullible the guy was as he scrambled around the kitchen looking for spoons. It was the least I could do to mess with him. He deposited one in front of me as well. “You’re helping.”

  He and I each dug into cartons of cake batter with sprinkles, salted caramel, and blueberry cheesecake ice cream. After a few minutes of silent chewing, I spoke up. “Why are you dating her?”

  “She’s amazing. Strong. Proud. So sure of what she wants.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  That was an act. I knew her better than anyone, and I’d never seen her be strong for anyone.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Are you kidding me?” I glanced down at myself and back at Vivek. “You get it. It’s going to be evangelists wanting to convert us to Scientology.” I hated the religious evangelists who stopped by every few days to tell us to not believe in wizards or vampires or whatever. I decided to let Vivek deal with getting rid of them today. I dipped my spoon into the cake batter, then the salted caramel, then the cheesecake ice cream.

  “Are you mixing those?” Vivek asked as he walked into the living room and toward the door.

  “Why not?” I grumbled as I licked the spoon.

  “Teenagers. Thank God I’m not one anymore.”

  “Just barely,” I muttered.

  I would allow him to make breakfast with the remnants of the refrigerator contents since I was starving, but then he had to leave. I didn’t want him in my house, didn’t like the fact that he’d taken out three plates from the cupboard. Didn’t like that he knew where to find the plates.

  I almost choked when Vivek came back in with a very surprised-looking Zayed Anwar in tow.

  “Delivery for you,” Vivek said.

  “Why are you here?” I gasped, realized I looked ridiculous holding a giant serving spoon heaped with ice cream in mid-bite.

  “I got your address from the registration file.”

  “Uh-huh, great. But why are you here?” I waved the spoon around, not knowing what to do with it. Vivek took a step toward me as if to say or do something to relieve the tension that had suddenly materialized in the kitchen.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “That must be the evangelists. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.” Vivek looked grateful as he retreated out of the room once again.

  “I’m sorry for yesterday. I broke a promise to you.” Zayed whispered, looking very sorry indeed. “I had to apologize in person. I’m sorry if I’m intruding. Is there something I can do?”

  “You can not surprise me at the break of dawn!” At this point, I’d dropped the spoonful of ice cream on the counter, leaving a sticky mess.

  “It’s ten-thirty actually.”

  I was still in pajamas. Zayed, dressed beautifully, in dark denim jeans, an incredibly soft-looking V-neck shirt, and a striped scarf, was seeing me in pajamas. Oh God, my hair. I wanted to melt away like the puddle of ice cream.

  Zayed grabbed the roll of paper towel before I could and dabbed at the rapidly melting pile of sprinkles and cheesecake.

  “I waited for you. If you didn’t want to come, you could have just said so,” I said in a tone I was hoping wouldn’t be accusatory but certainly was.

  “It’s not that I didn’t want to come. I wanted to very much. There’s just something I have to tell you—” He reached out and touched my cheek, surprising me. I felt a stab of disappointment as I realized he was only wiping a dab of ice cream off.

  “This one’s for you too, Mars,” Vivek said quietly, as he gestured toward the newest arrival in the kitchen.

  Jason stood in the doorway. “You look like you’re feeling a lot better.”

  Zayed and Jason stared at each other.

  “The refrigerator broke,” was all I could think of to blurt out, and I took a step back from Zayed.

  “Mars, do you want to introduce me to your friends?” Jason glanced at Vivek, back at Zayed, then finally at me. The stare was hard and questioning.

  “Vivek Joseph. I’m a friend of Lana’s. You must be Jason, the neighbor. Lana has told me a lot about you.”

  She had?

  “She has?”

  “Absolutely.” Vivek took Jason’s hand in both of his and gave it a solid shake. “I hear you make a mean chocolate-chip cookie.”

  “Uh, no, that’s my mother.” Jason almost smiled.

  I took a deep breath. Vivek was doing a fine job of saving me from this unfortunate situation, but I was not going to rely on him.

  “Jason, this is Zayed Anwar. He was just here to—”

  “Drop these off.�
� Zayed had reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a stack of what looked to be college applications.

  Jason reached across and took the applications from him. “Michigan? Harvard? I thought you were going to the U, Mars. Wasn’t that the whole point of this essay class thing?”

  “Keeping my options open.” I had no idea what these applications were about. It was a possibility that Zayed had them for someone else and this was just an excuse.

  “Really? Why?”

  I was starting to get annoyed with Jason. He had no right to question me like a child in front of other people. I was about to respond with something vocal and inappropriate when Vivek chimed in. “Lana insists that Mars at least think about other places. Speaking of Lana, we’d better clean up some of this mess before she wakes up.”

  The doorbell rang yet again.

  “Let me get that.” I watched Vivek leave the room, feeling desperate to follow him and run far away from here. Something bad was about to happen—as it always did after I saw Zayed. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to pull myself together and bracing myself for the inevitable.

  Zayed and Jason were facing off when I turned back around, the college applications Jason clutched the only thing keeping them separated.

  “The Institute has pretty good customer focus. Door-to-door delivery service of applications and all,” Jason said in the arrogant tone I knew well. This was his who-do-you-think-you-are tone. The one that had won final rounds of debate tournaments the past three years.

  Suddenly, I hated that tone. How dare he stand in my house and talk down to my guests? And how did it affect him where and how I applied to college?

  “I am very invested in my students’ success.” Zayed’s tone was completely cool, his stance rigid. I hadn’t seen him this way. Commanding and unafraid. I liked this Zayed, one who was not willing to back down to someone who was clearly trying to intimidate him.

  “Yes, he is.” In two steps, I was standing between them. I wasn’t in my usual stilettos and realized I was a good foot shorter than both guys. Also, my hair was pointing in every direction by then. I hardly stood a chance of intimidating either one of them at this point, but I was certainly going to try.

  “Mars has been very preoccupied lately with this class of yours. I hope it has a payoff.” Jason ignored me and continued to glare at Zayed. “She’s going to the U, you know. It’s a great school. Lots of her friends will be going there as well. Her father was an alum.”

  “‘Was’?” I felt my cheeks starting to burn. “No ‘was,’ Jason. He is an alum of the U.”

  Jason finally looked straight at me. The look in his eyes was disdainful, condescending, and almost hateful. I was taken aback. This was supposed to be the person I’d been planning to build a life with and around. I was suddenly scared of his expression and wondered where the Jason who’d apologized so profusely had disappeared to.

  “Mars will be accepted into any college she chooses,” Zayed said quietly, observing the looks exchanged between Jason and me. “She is an intelligent woman. The choice is entirely up to her. I am here only as a guide. And I will help her in any way she wants.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” Jason muttered through gritted teeth.

  “She is very talented,” Zayed said, not sounding upset at all. “I would hate to see that talent wasted on things that aren’t worth it. Or any preconceived notions of what she is not capable of doing holding her back. I’m sure you as a friend would agree.”

  Jason said nothing and stood his ground, crossing his arms as if waiting for Zayed to leave.

  “Anyway.” I felt Zayed’s warm touch on my shoulder. “I feel we’re upsetting Mars with all of this talk so early in the day.”

  “Why don’t you take your applications and leave now?” Jason stepped closer to Zayed. They were almost nose to nose. Jason’s golden hair and complexion were a contrast to Zayed’s fiery eyes and dark features. One of these men I’d known my whole life, and the other was a stranger. Yet I felt closer to that stranger than I’d ever felt with Jason.

  “I, of course, will do that or anything else Mars would like me to do,” Zayed glanced at me, a little half smile on his face. He laid his hand on my shoulder. The gesture was one of friendship and support—not intimacy, but I knew Jason wouldn’t see it that way.

  I wanted Zayed to stay. I put my hand on top of his and silently thanked him for believing in me and for not letting me be overridden by someone who was supposed to care about me.

  “Zayed is staying.” For as long as he wanted to. I was surprised at how firm my tone was. I smiled at him, hoping he understood that I really did mean it.

  “They won’t come back.” Vivek came back in, apparently having exorcised the house of evangelists. “They now think we are the House of Satan.”

  I took a deep breath, glad the discussion was over. I didn’t think I would ever be grateful for Vivek or even accept him, but he had helped me manage this situation several times that morning. I had to give Lana credit for choosing someone with some common sense.

  “I’m leaving.” Jason starting walking toward the door, glancing back at me.

  I couldn’t let him leave angry, despite the circumstances. We had been in the middle of some kind of relationship, and I owed him something resembling an explanation. I followed him into the front foyer.

  “Are you okay, Jason? I’m sorry about this morning.”

  He didn’t answer even as he reached the front door.

  “Jason?” I put a hand out as if to touch his arm, but something told me to pull back at the last second.

  “What the hell was that bullshit?” He whirled around so quickly I thought he was going to hit me. “I thought you were sick. I thought I’d come over and cheer you up. And here I find your SAT instructor sitting in your kitchen like he’s been here all night. What is going on between you and Zayed?”

  I needed to deny everything. After all, technically, there was nothing going on with me and Zayed. Or was there? He had disappointed me, but then had gone beyond anything I’d expected in coming by in person to apologize. I didn’t understand it at all.

  I finally said, “I don’t know.” Because I really and honestly didn’t.

  “I’m worried about you, Mars. Looking at schools that are far away from here? What are you running from now? You seem to be falling into that pattern again.” Jason leaned against the banister leading upstairs and crossed his arms.

  “What pattern?”

  “Crazy.”

  I felt like I’d been slapped. I’d known it. I knew people said it behind my back, but this was the first time I was hearing it said to my face. And from my so-called boyfriend at that. He had never defended me to anyone, I’d known that, but I hadn’t realized how much he agreed with them and most likely joined them in bashing me.

  “Well, if I’m so crazy, we really don’t need to be seeing each other anymore, do we?” I said quietly.

  I knew Zayed and Vivek were in the other room. Our insulation wasn’t so wonderful that they wouldn’t be able to hear every word of this conversation. I didn’t give a damn. This needed to be said.

  “Mars, don’t throw these stupid fits. We were fine. Everything was fine between us until you started acting like a freaking psychopath and hanging out with that guy—”

  “How am I a psychopath? Actually standing up for myself? By being with someone who will defend me instead of letting people say what they want about me, like you did all this time?”

  “Here we go again.”

  “Here we go, what? Here we go with me actually expressing how I feel as opposed to what I’m supposed to feel?”

  “You are in denial. When are you going to understand that?” Jason’s voice was getting louder and louder. “You belong in an institution. I wish Lana had actually put you there the first time.”

  I hadn’t cried, not once over the course of the past month, and I was certainly not going to start now. Not in front of this hateful person who’d betrayed
me yet again. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

  “Your father is not coming back. He’s dead. Gone. Dust. Over. If your mother sleeping with some other guy doesn’t show you that, I don’t know what will!”

  “Shut up, Jason,” I whispered, staring up at the ceiling. Sixteen. Seventeen. Seventeen marble tiles. One for every year of my life. One for every year I’d known Jason and apparently had never known him at all.

  “He’s not. Coming back. Deal with it.” Jason sneered. “Maybe your new boyfriend can help you understand it because I am done.”

  Jason slammed the door behind him.

  I could have chased after him. Told him he was right. Pretended. Like I had been doing this whole time.

  I could have done many things.

  But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to.

  Because I hated him for possibly being right.

  When I turned around, Lana was standing at the top of the stairs, the tears I struggled to hold back streaming down her face.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Breakfast

  Lana held me while I cried for the first time since The Incident. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be fine.”

  “How could he say those things?” I whispered more to myself than anything else. “Maybe I am crazy for believing he’ll come home to us, but what else can I do? Give up like all of you have?”

  We sat in the darkened living room, the room with the white leather couches that were never used, the fireplace that still cradled ashes from the last time we were in here, the night after Dad had left. We’d lit a fire and stared at it for half the night, me pretending to do homework and Lana pretending to read a magazine.

  That had been the first night I’d had a bad feeling, which had lasted since. The outburst from Jason was almost a relief. There had been so many whispered rumors about me, the delicate way he’d broken up with me the first time, the way people tiptoed around the topic of Dad. Finally, someone had said what they really felt.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Lana whispered. “All that matters is that you’re okay. I’m okay. We’re fine. Both of us.”

  I wiped away the last of my tears on my shoulder. “No, we’re not.”