by Ayesha Patel
“The police are on their way. I’m going to my apartment to get a shirt, but I’ll be right back,” he said from the hallway.
My heart thumped. I reached out for his hand but instantly drew back.
“You wanna come with me?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” He held out his hand and I took it. He laced his fingers with mine, warm and protective, and waited as I locked the door. In his apartment, Ty donned a fresh T-shirt, and we were back in my apartment well before the police showed up.
We gave a report. Ty did most of the talking, and I declined going down to the station. He kept his arm around my shoulder the entire time, the only way I felt safe. I shuddered the moment he withdrew.
Ty walked the officers out, then sat next to me on the couch. “Do you want me to sleep over?”
I stared at him.
“On the sofa, of course.”
“Vicki should be home tonight.” Although the thought of sleeping in Ty’s arms wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Does she always come home this late?”
“Sometimes, usually. On the weekend. I’ll text her.”
Priya: When will you be home?
Light illuminated darkening bruises on Ty’s cheek and scrapes on his chin. An hour ago, they were pale yellow, now bluish-green. Without thinking, I touched his face. “You look more bruised. I’ll get some ice.”
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ve got battle wounds.” He grinned.
“You’re not a pirate.”
“Don’t worry. Really.”
Once he released my wrist, I hopped to my feet and made an ice pack. Ty groaned. “You’re stubborn,” he declared.
“Look who’s talking.”
He flinched when I pressed the ice pack against his cheek.
“Your face is starting to swell.”
“Care so much about my face?”
“Yes. It looks much better when it’s normal, not black and blue and puffy. Hold this in place.”
I checked my phone when it buzzed.
Vicki: Tulsi got sick after dinner. I’m at her place to make sure she does okay.
Priya: Give her plenty of water.
Vicki: She’s puking everything up.
Priya: Going to the ER?
Vicki: LOL. I know better than to run to the ER for every little thing. I’m gonna watch her for a while.
Priya: It’s already late. Gonna come home?
Vicki: I guess I’ll crash here.
“What’d she say?” Ty examined my face.
I must’ve looked apprehensive, so I relaxed my face. “Tulsi has food poisoning. Vicki’s with her. She’s going to crash over there tonight.”
Ty inhaled and let out his breath. “What do you want to do?”
I tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. Was it too much to ask him to sleep over because the ordeal freaked me out?
“Want me to sleep here? On the couch?” he asked.
“Is that too much to ask?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you hungry? I have leftovers at my place.”
“I don’t have an appetite.”
“Want to watch TV to get your mind off things? A Big Bang Theory marathon is on.”
“You know me so well. I’m going to change. Are you comfortable sleeping in those clothes?”
“I’ll manage.”
I realized how sweaty and gross I was. I also had speckles of Ty’s blood on me. “Um, are you okay if I take a shower?”
He twisted and looked back at me from the couch. “Are you asking me if I want to join you?”
“Really?”
He laughed and turned to the TV. “I’m okay out here by myself.”
After a quick shower, I blow-dried my hair and slipped into undies. For the first time ever, the interest of my undergarments weighed more on the side of aesthetics rather than practicality. I twisted and turned to see my reflection from all possible angles.
Blue cotton bikini panties with pink lace were better than granny panties. A mismatched, padded white push-up bra with blue flowers was better than my usual sports bra. The white appeared to glow against my darker skin. All those miserable mornings getting up early to hit the gym had paid off. I worked out to stay in shape, feel good, and look better in clothes. I hadn’t imagined the day would come when I’d be worried about what a man thought.
I shook my head. What was I thinking? Ty would never see this. He couldn’t. Being with a man before marriage, a white guy at that, would shame my family. I loved them too much to hurt them.
Holding up my pajamas, I chose the slightly nicer ones. Instead of baggy sweatpants and a faded T-shirt, I picked fuchsia-striped cotton shorts and a white tank top. And I’d shaved!
By the time I returned to the living room, Ty was sprawled out on the couch asleep. Good. At least he could sleep.
I draped a blanket across him and tucked a pillow beneath his head, accidentally waking him.
He groaned. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He held my wrist, tugging me back down to eye level, though his eyes were closed. “You gonna sleep with me?”
“What?” My heart beat against my ribs.
“On the couch, like in my apartment?”
“Oh. No. You stretch out. I’ll sleep in my bed.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Good night.”
I left my bedroom door ajar and climbed under the covers. Goose bumps and shivers crawled over my body, not because it was cold but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the attackers.
Ty’s soft snoring acted like a promise of safety and an assurance of his well-being, mentally and physically. But I cowered. What if they had beaten me or raped me? The attack had been traumatic enough, but things far worse would have crippled me.
I tried to sleep, moving all over the place—from a fetal position, to facing the wall, to on my back, to facing the door with a watchful eye—yet slumber and peace evaded me. I willed Ty to stumble in, spoon me, and keep me safe for the rest of the night, but I had no such power. And Ty was either passed out or respected my request enough to stay out of my bed. I wished I had told him the truth, that I was terrified and I needed him to hold me.
The alarm clock was set to go off at five o’clock. I changed it. There was no way I was going to the gym in the morning.
At two o’clock, I slipped out of bed and trotted into the living room, hoping Ty was awake. I watched him sleep. He looked like a sleeping angel without a care in the world.
I brushed the hair from his brow. He stirred and opened his eyes, drowsily winking at me. “Babe,” he muttered and fell back asleep.
The way he said that made my heart stop and come back to life with a vengeance. I swallowed the lump in my throat and chided myself for his effect on me.
Chapter Eighteen
Priya
Since Ty was still asleep on the couch, I kept quiet while making coffee. Keys jingled in the front door. Vicki walked in with two grocery bags. When she saw Ty, her eyes widened to the size of lemons. It wasn’t until she left the door open and my parents walked in that I understood her overreaction.
I froze behind the counter, still in my short shorts and tank, which Mummie considered half-naked and indecent. I’d completely forgotten that they were coming to town.
“Look who I ran into downstairs,” Vicki said through tight lips.
“Mummie! Papa!” I managed to push out. I had nothing to be ashamed of or anything to hide.
They smiled and took off their shoes.
“How are you?” Mummie asked in Gujarati.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ty stir.
“Who…who is this?” Mummie asked. Her tone was half-fearful and half-restrained politeness, as if I had been doing something bad.
“Yes, please explain why a man is sleeping here,” Papa added dryly.
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Ty awoke and sat up. He ran a hand through his hair and down his face before flinching.
“This is Tyler,” I explained. “He lives down the hall.”
“Did you lock yourself out, young man?” Papa asked.
“No, sir.” Ty stood and folded the blanket. He looked at me to give me the lead in the way of explanations.
“Did something happen?” Papa asked.
I groaned. “Yes, but please don’t get upset.”
“Udde yaar! You’ve been…doing things…!” Mummie played the drama card and clutched her chest.
“Oh God, no. I was attacked last night.” I wrung my fingers.
“Are you okay, beti?” Mummie ran to me and checked my face before pulling me into an embrace. “Your face is bruised!”
“Yesh,” I mumbled into Mummie’s hair, which didn’t help the pain in my cheek.
“What happened? Did you call the police?” Papa asked, suddenly beside Mummie.
“Oh my little girl. We should have never let you live on your own.”
I pulled back. “I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt too badly. Tyler happened to be on his way home and heard me scream. He stepped in, and they stabbed him with a knife and ran off.”
“Oh, yaar!” Mummie exclaimed and went to Ty, checking his face as if that was the only place on the body where telltale signs of injury lingered.
He chuckled. “I’m okay, really, thanks. Priya fixed me up.”
“Did you call the police?” Papa pressed.
“Yes. They came over and we filed a report, but I don’t think those guys will come around here again,” Ty replied.
“You don’t know that. Did they see where you live, or which apartment complex you live in?”
“No. They ran off way before we started home.”
“I don’t like this! You’re not safe here.” Mummie returned to me.
“Crime happens everywhere,” I said. “This is still a good area.”
“Sit down. You’re traumatized.”
“I’m not traumatized.”
“Thank you for saving my daughter. You’re a good boy,” Mummie said to Ty.
“Is there anything we can do to repay you?” Papa asked.
My cheeks turned warm. Please don’t pull out the wallet.
Ty waved a hand. “No, no. There’s no such thing as payback. I’m glad I was there.”
“Me, too. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do for you?”
Ty parted his lips, his gaze landing on me, as if he were about to ask Papa for his permission to date me. But Ty wasn’t old school, and he didn’t care if my parents gave him permission to date me or not. He closed his mouth and shook his head. “No. I guess I should get going. Priya’s safe and sound.”
“Why don’t you stay for nastho, err, breakfast, Indian style,” Papa offered. “We’d like to get to know the man who saved our daughter.”
“Yeah, that’d be okay.” Ty didn’t look at me for confirmation, not that he would’ve asked for it, anyway.
I hurried into a pair of sweatpants and stepped into the kitchen to help Mummie, somehow hoping to avoid any personal questions about me and Ty.
“You sit and I’ll make cha, Mummie. You’ve had a long drive.”
“Such a sweet girl you are.”
Instead of sitting, Mummie dished up bowls of curried, fried puffed rice and lentils, and plates of fried dough in the shape of thin circles called mathiya. With so much fried and sugary cuisine in India, no wonder our people were prone to diabetes and heart attacks.
Papa murmured most of his side of the conversation with Ty. He patted him on the shoulder as if telling him, “Job well done.”
Ty flinched at the pat.
Papa instantly pulled back. “Oh, sorry.”
“Have you spoken with Manuk?” Mummie asked as I stirred the rising foam of cha in the saucepan; a mixture of water, milk, loose Indian black tea, sugar, and a hint of masala. When it boiled for the sixth time, I turned off the heat and filtered the cha through a strainer into four teacups already set on saucers.
“How quaint,” Ty muttered as he picked up a teacup, pinky awkwardly out, and sipped. He looked at me over the steaming rim. Did the room suddenly get hot?
“Vicki, will you join us?” Mummie asked.
Vicki offered a warm smile but shook her head as she finished arranging her groceries. She took my elbow when Ty’s explanation about something stole Mummie’s and Papa’s attention. We huddled in the hallway.
“Are you okay?” Vicki asked.
I nodded, forcing the tears to stay away.
“Is there something to hide with…?” Vicki whispered.
“No.”
“Better not be, because Tyler is not keen about lying about something he’s not ashamed of. Thank God I had groceries to miss their fire of questions, and they probably assume I went out this morning to get some things and came right back instead of having been gone all night. They’ll never know you spent the night alone with him. I’m so sorry about last night. You should’ve told me. I would’ve ditched Tulsi or dragged her here.”
I shushed her and returned to the kitchen. I ate slowly but gave Ty the eye to eat faster and hightail his glorious butt out of here.
“Why are you being so rude?” Mummie asked.
“Huh?” Crap, she’d caught the looks.
“He saved your life. Be more grateful. Tsk!” She shoved more nastho onto Ty’s plate. “Here, beta, eat some more. You’re so thin.”
Like hell he was. Still, Mummie had a point. Ty had saved me, and all he’d asked for was a measly kiss. Those guys might have done much worse to me. A mugging was nothing. Money, keys, phone, anything material was replaceable. But a beating, rape, death?
Papa rubbed my shoulder and pulled me into him. He wasn’t prone to physical affection, or even verbal affection compared to Americans, so his concern shook me even more. “Beti…”
I tried not to cry. Papa had this way of reducing me into a blubbering woman-child. I sucked it up and batted my eyelashes to soak up the tears before Ty had the mind to jump up from his chair and hug me. He had that look in his eyes, one filled with soothing concern and the need to hold me, protect me, which scared me because it seemed as if Ty had real feelings for me, much more than crotch-throbbing flirtation.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ty asked, leaning over the edge of the counter and around Papa to meet my eyes.
“Yes.”
“You’re safe. You know that.”
“Yes.”
“So, Tyler,” Papa said and I paused. Here it went. I hadn’t had any guy friends meet Papa when I was a teenager, but it was bound to happen at some point.
“Yes, sir.”
“‘Sir’? That’s something you don’t hear from Americans.”
Already he differentiated us from Tyler. I grimaced. Papa wasn’t a harsh man, but sometimes his words came out that way. In this case, pointedly.
“Well, I was raised a little ‘old school.’ ” He smiled and Papa warmed up.
“You live across the hall?”
“Yes.”
Papa lifted a brow that seemed more like a warning.
“I moved in not too long ago, but I met Priya when she treated my ankle in the ER.”
“She’s a good doctor, no?”
“She’s great.” Ty gave me a lingering sidelong glance that pinned me in place when I should’ve ignored him, so I fiddled with my breakfast.
“Hmm.” Papa also gave me a lingering, studious look. “What do you do for work?”
And here was the steel-toed shoe to kick some sense into me. No matter that Ty was white, and oh lord, had I actually kissed him last night? But he wasn’t good enough for me, according to the social and cultural laws of Indian parents.
With a humble and sincere smile, Ty replied, “I’m an astrophysicist at NASA.”
Everyone stared at him.
“You weren’t joking about that?” I asked.
“Why w
ould I joke about that?”
I shrugged. “You always laugh when you say you work at NASA.”
“No, I don’t. You just think I work at bars.”
“You go to bars?” Mummie glared at me.
“No! He means restaurants where they have bars and live music. He plays in a band,” I replied defensively.
“You are young,” Papa said to Ty. “That’s impressive.”
“I just happen to be good at it. If it were any harder, I wouldn’t be with NASA. I’m fortunate to have found my calling.”
“Maybe the next time we’re in town, you can show us where you work? I’ve always wanted to visit NASA.”
“I’d love to. You can knock on my door anytime.”
“Thank you. And thank you eternally for saving Priya.”
“I’m glad I was there.” His lingering glances did funny things to my skipping heart.
“Well, are you done?” I took Ty’s empty dishes when he nodded. I could not let those exhilarating explosions in my chest manifest in my facial expressions for my parents to see. He had to get out.
He stood and shook Papa’s hand. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Patel, and you, ma’am.” He tapped an invisible hat and spoke with a strong drawl. “I wish the circumstances were better.”
“Thank you again.” Papa touched Ty’s arm this time with the handshake.
After he nodded at Mummie, I walked him to the door, holding it open a crack so that I concealed the view.
He tilted his head to the side, placed a hand on my hip, and whispered, “Nothing to fear, babe. You’re safe.”
With a brief rub of his thumb against my waist, he left.
“When are you getting engaged, beti?” Mummie asked Vicki when she reappeared to get a drink.
Vicki blushed, her eyes darting between all three of us. “When the time comes, ya’ll be the first to know.” She gave Mummie a side hug and retired to her room.
“Ready for mandir?” Papa asked.
Of course I wasn’t ready, but I got ready and fast. While Papa wore the slacks and button-up shirt he came to town in, Mummie changed into a red sari, and I wore a green sari. Together, we looked like Christmas.
The Houston mandir, one of the largest and most elaborate temples in the United States, was hosting a few lengthy celebrations that weekend. Strands of lights curled around pillars. Sheets of silk were swathed around altar bases and wrapped around Hindu deities adorned with gold. The cafeteria was clamorous with hundreds of people, the volunteers who cooked, served, and cleaned, and the patrons who came to eat.