by Ayesha Patel
“Thank you, sir.”
“Manuk, Madhuben, Deepakbhai.” He nodded at the others. They exchanged sentiments, sorrows.
The older generation walked off while the mortician waited for me. Tension rose between Manuk and Ty.
“I have to go. You know where the house is?” I asked.
“Yes,” they said in unison, then glared at each other.
Tension thickened. Manuk knew something was going on between me and Ty. And Ty wasn’t the type to hide. He wasn’t ashamed of anything.
I groaned and hurried after the mortician, hooking my arm with Papa’s and going with him.
The funeral home smelled of flowers, fresh wreaths, wood, and leather. The place was spacious enough to showcase several coffin models. They were beautiful and expensive. Burial plots were expensive, too. Indians believed in cremation. In ancient times, cremation released the soul from the body to fly toward heaven. In modern day, it was cost-effective and efficient.
Not that I wanted to leave Mummie, but I couldn’t get out of the funeral home fast enough.
“You go. I’m going to stay,” Papa said.
“Papa…”
“It’s okay. Go. See you at home.”
Home? He hadn’t spoken to me in months, and in our last conversation, they had said I didn’t have a home with them.
“Excuse me.” I approached one of the funeral home assistants.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me how to get to Metric from here on the bus?”
He looked over my shoulder. “Can I call you a cab?”
“No. A bus ride and a little walking will help clear my mind.”
He frowned but gave me directions and bus numbers. I found my bearings when the bus hit Lamar, a major and familiar street. I stepped off on Parmer near Metric and walked the rest of the way.
I managed to call my director to take bereavement leave between episodes of sobbing.
She passed on her sympathies. “I’ll turn it in. Don’t worry about it. In fact, you have enough varying circumstances checked off that you’re good for the remainder of your rotation. Take the rest of the month off.”
The weather cooled as the sun fell. A light wind picked up. Leaves rustled and danced around me. Cars came and went. Joggers and walkers with strollers or dogs passed by, but I kept my eyes downcast. Whenever I reminisced about good times, and we’d had many good times, the past two months shredded everything to pieces. Guilt filled me.
Mummie and Papa had always informed me of their ailments since high school. For one thing, I understood medicine and knew how to research and ask their doctors the right questions. For the obvious, as I entered med school and beyond, they figured I had an answer or, at the least, a direction to go in.
Mummie hadn’t told me about her headaches, depression, and fainting spells. If she hadn’t hated me for the past two months, I would have caught this. Even if her condition was untreatable, I could have talked to her on the phone every day. Or if my choice was the deciding factor of whether or not Mummie lived, then the pain of letting go of Ty would have been worth it.
I groaned and hugged my burning stomach.
There weren’t any cars at the house except Ty’s. No fois, no aunties, no Manuk. Not that the vibrating phone in my pocket didn’t annoy me enough, probably full of messages from said people.
Ty wasn’t in his car or on the porch. I walked around the side of the house, pushed open the squeaky gate, and found him on the swinging bench on the broad, covered patio. He jumped to his feet and ran to me at first sight, scooping me into his arms, hugging me tight, and kissed my forehead.
My effort to push him away didn’t work. He only held me tighter. I gathered the back of his shirt into my fists and cried into his chest. He kept quiet, rocked me, and didn’t let go.
We sat down when I managed to calm down a little. Ty pushed the swing back and forth with his feet firmly planted on the cement. He kept an arm around me, my head on his shoulder.
I mindlessly checked my phone.
Vicki: Talk to me. Is everything okay?
Priya: Mummie died today.
Vicki: WTF! I’m so sorry! What can I do?
Priya: Feel free to tell your parents. I don’t want to see or talk to anyone.
Vicki: I can take vacation.
Priya: No.
Vicki: Funeral?
Priya: Dunno yet.
Vicki: I’ll take vacation then. Want me to tell Tulsi and Jeeta?
Priya: Please.
Manuk: Are you okay? Where are you? At the house?
I slid the phone into my pocket. Ty could read everything over my shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He rubbed my arm but stopped and stiffened when Manuk’s text came up.
The faint sound of cars pulling in, engines turning off, and car doors closing alerted us that Papa had arrived. Voices carried. Maybe if we didn’t open the blinds, they wouldn’t see us, but someone had the idea that light could brighten things. One blind after another came up. The window screens were tinted so I couldn’t see inside, didn’t know who saw us.
The back door opened. Ty jumped to his feet and gave Papa a light embrace, muttering, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Papa appeared taken aback, but he must have been used to all the hugs by now. He exhaled and nodded. Before returning, he said, “Thank you. Come inside and eat.”
We removed our shoes and went inside.
The kitchen smelled like the Indian takeout that Manuk’s parents brought. The phone rang off the hook and Manuk, with Papa’s permission, answered and invited people. The fois filed in, all on high alert to steer clear of me.
Ty was constantly at my side. He sat where I sat, stood where I stood. Although he had an easiness about him, he seemed out of place here. Everyone made rounds to greet everyone else, including Ty. They asked him who he was and his relationship to me. One look at me and he plainly responded, “Priya’s a friend from Houston. She couldn’t drive in the emotional state she was in.”
It pained him to say he was just my friend, I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. He was selfless enough not to drench this horrible day with drama. But he made a point to ward off Manuk with a deadpan expression.
“I feel worthless,” Ty muttered.
“Don’t. You’re keeping me sane.”
“The dentist is running the show, stepping up. I should be doing that.”
“Did you ask Papa if he needed anything?”
“Yes, several times. He shakes his head and tells me to eat.”
“Better than kicking you out.”
“I don’t like how the dentist acts like he’s your husband. Doesn’t he know about us?”
“I guess my parents never told them. He’s been traveling, so when he stopped texting me, I thought he knew…”
“You didn’t tell him?” He had a hint of restrained anger in the question.
“His parents wanted an answer right away, so I thought my parents had told them.” Ty didn’t understand that the parents were the ones who made or broke arrangements at this stage of courting.
Ty flared his nostrils as Manuk advanced. “Tyler, right?”
Ty nodded.
“Thanks for driving Priya.” He looked at me. “It would have been horrible if you had gotten into an accident trying to get here.”
“How did you know about Mummie?” I asked sharply.
“Well, we planned on coming to town anyway for a function at mandir. We wanted to meet up with you, too, it’s been so long. When we called, your dad told us.”
“I see.”
“The priest will be here soon. I’m going to the store to get some things. Want to come?”
“No, but thanks for getting all this ready.”
“Of course. That’s what I’m for. Do you need anything?”
“No.”
“See you in a bit.” He cracked a comforting smile at me then shot Ty a dry look before leaving.
“I s
hould have a talk with him,” Ty grumbled, taking a step after Manuk.
I tugged him back. “It’s okay for now. Later. Don’t leave me.”
He sighed but obliged.
The priest arrived shortly, expecting reverence and awe that I wasn’t in the mood to give. He prepared the living room for a ceremony, posting his altar and Papa’s idols up front. Manuk returned soon after and handed the priest his ceremonial emblems.
The house filled with the fragrance of incense, something that had once been inviting and soothing but was now a stench to my nostrils.
The priest motioned us over. I groaned and took a seat beside Papa, our backs to the room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that everyone sat behind us to participate, Manuk right behind me, and poor Ty was propped against the hallway entrance, alone and distant.
We prayed, chanted, and gave an offering to both appease the gods and pacify our pain. It didn’t work. Years of repetition allowed me to move my lips and hands without thinking. My thoughts fixated on the pain.
Afterward, I guarded Papa. “Do you want them to leave?”
“No.”
“Not even the fois?”
He patted my arm. “Better to have the conversation and noise. What about you?”
“I don’t want to see them. They should leave.”
“That helps you?”
“I can leave if you want them to stay.”
He skimmed over the room. Many friends had arrived with food and condolences, enough to push out the unwanted ones, namely Papa’s family. I made my rounds. One by one, I spoke to each foi and fua, “You can leave now.”
They didn’t argue.
“Priya, your dad invited me and my parents to spend the night,” Manuk said.
“He’s invited everyone.”
“You’ve started kicking some people out.”
“How did you know?”
“Your fois complained to my mom.”
I muttered beneath my breath. The veins in my forehead were about to burst.
“I put a stop to that immediately. No one has a right to say a thing against you, especially right now.”
“Thanks.”
“Which room can we take?”
“It’s okay for you guys to leave. It’s late, so we understand if you need to.”
“It’s not a problem to stay. I can cancel my patients tomorrow.”
“It’s better for you to leave.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. Thanks for everything, but I need to be alone. All these people, giving them my attention, is exhausting.”
“I understand. We’ll get going, then.”
“Thanks again for everything.”
He lifted his arms to hug me, but I stepped back, walked away, and thanked his parents. Once they left, I mindlessly thanked everyone who came. Only a handful of Papa’s friends stayed.
Hugging Papa, I muttered, “I’m going to sleep. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?”
“You sleep. Company makes me feel better. We’re remembering good times.”
“Okay.” I walked through the hall and glanced over my shoulder at Ty, who made subtle movements to follow.
The covers were cool as I climbed beneath them on my old bed. The room was nice and dark. The conversations were muffled below. I found some sort of peace here.
Ty knocked on the door before he walked in, closed the door behind him, and placed my backpack on the floor. He crawled over me, crawled under the covers, and held me. Without a word, we fell asleep.
Chapter Thirty
Tyler
Birds chirped as soon as the sun came up. A warm, pale glow entered through closed blinds. I hadn’t slept much, only dozed off and on. The faint conversations below were white noise broken by closing doors all night. I half expected someone to knock on the bedroom door and catch us spooning. As if we were doing something wrong.
I didn’t want to hide my relationship with Pree, but she was in too much of a fragile position for me to go all caveman on the dentist. It hurt. Badly. I didn’t understand why she had never told the dentist the engagement was off. But my pain was nothing compared to what Pree was going through right now. I remembered when Mom had died. I had grieved a long time and regretted a lot of things, and I hadn’t been nearly as close to her as Pree had been with her mom.
Despite having to take a backseat in the foreign ways of Pree’s family, I was content enough that she let me sleep with her. Everything about yesterday was a ripple effect of stabs and agony from the moment Pree had taken that phone call. She’d scared the crap out of me. For a second in the hospital hallway, I’d thought I’d lost her.
When she called me to her room, I had some confidence that she wouldn’t leave me. She just needed time to mourn without the added drama of our relationship, something I’d thought her family and the dentist were clear on. Apparently not.
I silenced a pissed-off groan. This wasn’t the time to wallow in misery and anger.
Pree was warm against me, and by the sound of her snoring, she was sleeping heavily. Who knew snoring could be such a comforting sound?
Then she shifted, yawned, and stretched against me before turning onto her back.
I asked, “How are you?”
“Sick, tired, depressed.”
Her words and the sound of her downtrodden voice sliced right through me. “Does ice cream help? Chocolate?”
“Fattening me up?”
“We can run it off at the lake.” I was desperate to help her.
“Sounds like a good idea, but alone.”
I pushed myself up to look down at her and stroked her belly. “You want me to leave?”
“You have work tomorrow.”
“Screw work. They’ll survive a few days without me.”
“I need to be alone.”
“You’ll spiral into depression.”
“I’m already depressed.”
“Which is more reason not to be alone. You have to keep your chin up, be around people who make you happy.”
She rolled onto her side facing away from me, but I pulled her back. “Pree, don’t shut me out. Please. Tell me what I can do.”
“Just leave.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head away, pushing me further toward the brink of worthlessness.
That tiny lock that kept my emotions in check snapped. She was pushing me away when I already felt useless and worst of all, like I was nothing more than her dirty secret. And it scared the hell out of me.
Irate with the dentist still being in the picture and Pree’s dismissal of our relationship, I crawled out of bed. She didn’t move or say anything.
Fuming that she didn’t want to lean on me or have me here during her most vulnerable state, I snatched my keys off the dresser. She didn’t even look at me. She wasn’t going to change her mind.
She let him do everything for her without even correcting his assumption about their engagement. She let him take care of her. She’d just lost the most important woman in her life, and she tossed me, tossed us, out onto the curb.
“Are you sure?” I gave her one last chance.
She didn’t even respond.
Grabbing the doorknob, I growled, “Fine. The dentist is here for you, anyway.”
And I left, giving Pree exactly what she wanted.
Chapter Thirty-One
Priya
I didn’t know how to comfort Papa. He didn’t speak much to me, though he carried on full, emotionally controlled conversations with others. It wasn’t yet the time to ask if we could be close again, if he forgave me for my decision that had ultimately killed Mummie. His eyes hinted that I had everything to do with her death. The worst part? I believed it myself.
Papa was happier seeking the company of his friends and spending most of his days in persistent prayer at mandir. I barely scraped by, ignoring messages and running at the lake. I didn’t talk to or text anyone. Hunger and thirst didn’t affect me, but sleep came often. Sleep proved to be the
only escape, and I spent most of my time in bed.
Ty didn’t text until Thursday.
Ty: I’m sorry about how I left.
I didn’t respond. He had every right to hate me, too, but I couldn’t deal with him.
Ty: I’d like to attend the funeral, be there for you and your dad. Is that okay?
Priya: It’s tomorrow at 3.
Ty: I’ll be there. Can I hug you?
Priya: No. I might lose it.
Ty: Okay.
And I might hate myself even more. I hated that I wanted him, that I still chose to be with him. Mummie had made me promise to marry Manuk, and promises were sacred, especially deathbed promises.
“Papa?” I snuck into the living room where he flipped through photo albums.
“Beti.” He half smiled and patted the seat beside him.
Relieved, I plopped down at his side, rested my head on his shoulder, and looked at pictures. He explained each one. Mummie in her wedding sari. Mummie when she was pregnant at the park. Mummie when she took me to school on the first day of pre-K. Mummie. Mummie. Mummie.
“Is this my fault?” I had to know. Even pushing the words out made me tremble.
Papa didn’t answer.
“Do you still hate me?” My voice cracked.
“I’m still mad, but I can’t hate you.”
“I don’t want to lose you, too.” I stifled a sob.
“You won’t.” He draped an arm around me and we went through more pictures.
…
Even walking into the viewing room, Ty was a blatant inconsistency. He wore a nice black suit with a black shirt and a black tie. Oh, yeah, I had forgotten to tell him we wore white at our funerals, but that was okay. He didn’t seem to care that he stuck out. Plus, he wasn’t Indian, so no one else cared, either.
The men, in white kurta pajamas, sat on the right side. Ty found a seat two rows behind Papa. The fuas sat next to Papa, then Manuk and his father. I sat across the aisle from Papa, feeling hardened and numb at the same time, alone in a room full of familiar faces. I sure as hell didn’t let the fois sit next to me, much less in the front row. Vicki sat beside me, Tulsi and Jeeta, and then the fois. Mummie’s family was in India. Papa would send her ashes to them later.