Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace)

by Ayesha Patel

  Most of the women, like me, wore white saris. Younger girls wore a white salwar kameez or white shirts and jeans. No one wore cologne, perfume, hair products, makeup, or jewelry. We were bare in our grieving.

  Thank God for Vicki, who held my hand the entire time. Without her, I would’ve lost it again. I tried to be strong for Mummie’s memory, her devout faith, and for Papa.

  The priest chanted up front. Everyone around me chanted with him, but my lips were too numb to move. In fact, I questioned religion and God altogether. What did paying a priest for these death rites, chanting, and praying really do?

  He invited me and Papa to the front. Mummie, beautiful and pale, lay in a cardboard coffin. She wore white, pure and clean. Her long, ebony hair streaked with gray turned red from henna was braided, set over one shoulder so that it lay nestled between her body and her arm.

  The priest poured a few drops of holy water onto the spoon Papa held. He walked around Mummie’s body three times before drawing the spoon to her lips. Her lips wouldn’t drink, so the water slid down her cheek. I repeated the action, not really knowing what this symbolized.

  The viewing wasn’t really a viewing. It was part of a death ritual. People didn’t approach Mummie, gaze upon her face, and give farewells. After my small part, pulling away from Mummie took a lot of effort. When my legs prevailed, I returned to the seat next to Vicki and offered weak smiles to everyone who spoke to me. Why should I have to smile? I should not be obligated to cater to anyone right now.

  Everyone filed out as workers closed Mummie’s coffin with a cardboard lid and took her to the cremation room located deeper in the memorial park. Austin was experiencing another thunderstorm outside. Rain pellets doused the coffin as the men hurried into the small building. Thunder rocked the skies, set off car alarms, and lightning lit up the cemetery.

  Most people in attendance left at that point, emptying the parking lot. Only family huddled next to me and Papa in the cremation room as the conveyor belt rolled Mummie through the furnace. I tried to harden myself, but when Papa jerked beside me, I cried. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep my sobs quiet. My body shook as I struggled to catch my breath. Papa took my free hand, his warm and calloused. Tears slid down his face. His lips quivered.

  An entire body entered at one end and a heap of ashes emerged at the opposite end. Those ashes, enough to fit in my hands, were all that remained of Mummie. She was truly gone, never to return, never to laugh at me, never to surprise me with childhood treats from India, never to go to pedicures with me, and would never see me grow old.

  The assistant dusted the ashes into a small cardboard box when they cooled, wrapped it in paper, and stuck it inside a plastic bag. Papa placed it in a small carry bag and zipped it closed.

  Family walked out first. Papa said to me, “We’ll eat at the house.”

  “I’ll see you there later.”

  He left.

  I waited for a while longer, until the assistant gave me a look that said I was outstaying my welcome, but he wouldn’t ask me to leave.

  I walked out into the storm. Sheets of rain made everything obscure. The parking lot had emptied, all except Ty’s car. Maybe he waited in the viewing room?

  Cemeteries were beautiful, for some reason. They obviously kept the dead, buried the sadness that went with losing loved ones, but gothic beauty appealed to me. Tall, haunting trees protected the property. Old, weatherworn tombstones marked graves. A few flowers washed away in the downpour.

  Rain drenched my clothes within seconds, but I walked around anyway. My white sari became see-through to the white cotton skirt and white bodice beneath. The wet fabric clung to me. My saturated hair stuck to my shoulders and back.

  I lowered myself onto a bench beneath a tree and stared at the newer grave markers, the metal, flat ones that lay over the graves instead of standing upright. Shivers raced up and down my body in waves. Lightning struck and twenty seconds later, thunder rumbled. But thankfully, there was no hail, because Texas hail was the size of golf balls that dented cars, set off alarms, and hurt if they made contact.

  Ty appeared in the distance and quickly approached as a dark blur. He slipped off his jacket and came to a slow stop, draping it around me. Keeping a hold around my shoulders, he pulled me up.

  I pressed a hand against his soggy clothes. “Ty, you’re going to ruin your nice suit.”

  “Forget the damn suit. Can I hug you now?”

  I raised my arms around his neck. He held me tight, and that’s all I wanted. He smelled like his usual self, soap and shampoo and deodorant drenched in rain. I inhaled his scent as if it were the air I needed to live. His hands and body heat warmed me, chased off the shivers.

  We held each other for a long time. Now would’ve been a decent time to let him go, tell him about my promises, and end it here, but I was selfish and I needed Ty to make me forget.

  “Let’s get you out of the cold before you get sick.”

  He took my hand, led me out, and drove to Papa’s house where we waited across the street. Cars cluttered the driveway and all up and down the street.

  “See you in Houston,” I muttered before he asked to come inside or to sleep over. “Vicki and the girls are spending the night. Some girl time will help.”

  “Okay.” He kissed my cheek, defeated. “I love you, babe.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He clenched and unclenched his fists. Without looking at me, he asked, “You’re coming back to me, right?”

  I swallowed. How could I lie?

  His features morphed from anxious to upset. His nostrils flared, his lips pressed tight, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. It was his war face, the one he had when he was angry and hurt at the same time and didn’t know how to deal with it.

  I kissed him on the cheek and he relaxed a little. “See you at home.”

  From the hallway, Manuk saw me enter the house first, my arms crossed over my indecent chest. “God’s sake! You’re soaked.”

  “Shh! Don’t draw attention. I’m not fit for people to see me like this. I’m going to take a shower.”

  I dragged my backpack from my room into the bathroom and turned on steamy water. I peeled off the sari and stuffed everything into a plastic bag. The sari had to be hand washed and air dried.

  Hot water cascading over my chilled flesh felt so good. After a quick wash to warm up, I sat down, pulled my knees to my chest, and stared at the tiles ahead as water showered over my head.

  Manuk knocked. “Are you okay in there?”

  I growled. “Please leave me alone.”

  He didn’t respond. I dried off, dressed, and blow-dried my hair, which seemed to take as long as the shower. I crawled into bed, curled up, and closed my eyes.

  A knock. I swore to God if it were Manuk, I’d kill him.

  “Beti?” Papa came in and sat down beside me. “Won’t you eat?”

  “I’m not hungry. Did you eat?”

  “Yes. Come make an appearance.”

  “Everyone knows I’m here. There’s nothing to say to them that hasn’t been said already.”

  Silence.

  “Want me to tell everyone to leave? There’s like fifty people downstairs. It’s too much,” I said.

  “I already told them I’m tired. Most are leaving now. Come say good-bye.”

  “I’m too tired.”

  “Okay.” He patted my head and stood.

  “Papa?”

  “Huh?”

  “I love you.”

  He smiled and closed the door. I regretted never telling Mummie I loved her. Papa would hear it many times from now on.

  About ten minutes later, the girls let themselves into my room. Vicki crawled over me and sat against the wall. Tulsi lay next to us. Jeeta sat at the foot of the bed.

  Tulsi broke the silence. “You walked in here like a Bollywood sex goddess, all hawt and wet in a white sari. Damn, girl.”

  “Shut up.” I playfully shoved her.

  Jeeta’s eye
s widened. “Manuk didn’t try to attack you?”

  I groaned. “Don’t mention him. Did he leave?”

  “Yes. Didn’t he say good-bye?”

  “Maybe he tried to. He needs to put some space between us. Vickiben, how’s the wedding plans?”

  Vicki shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Come on. I want to know. Tell me all the details. To get my mind off things.”

  She hesitated.

  “Please?”

  She dished about Raj and the meetings between their families, and setting a wedding day. Tulsi complained about her parents trying to set her up. Jeeta sighed because an old friend from India had contacted her. Everyone stared at her.

  “Do tell,” Tulsi said.

  “He’s cute and an engineer. He’s coming to America on a work visa. My parents found two other guys and want me to go to India next summer to meet them.”

  “You know what that means. People don’t go to India to just meet a suitor. You’re coming back married.”

  Jeeta made a face.

  …

  The next day, the girls packed up most of the leftovers and piled into the car, giving me a few minutes alone with Papa.

  “When are you mailing the ashes?” I asked.

  “I’m thinking of flying to India with them,” Papa replied.

  “Call me when you decide, assuming you’re talking to me again.”

  He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose the way he did when he was getting a headache. “I’m not happy about Tyler. I heard your promises, too. I would’ve asked for the same thing on my deathbed.”

  “Tyler is wonderful. I understand it’s a big deal, not what you had planned, but I don’t understand why it’s so horrible.”

  “He is a good man. Tyler and I have actually spoken a lot.”

  “You have?”

  “That’s beside the point. You saw how he didn’t fit into our life this past week. Family, friends, mandir, ceremonies. He’s too different. Manuk, he took care of you, of us. We’ll talk about this later. Have a safe trip.”

  The girls played all of my favorite songs on the way home. We rocked out to upbeat jams. Music touched the soul, and this music made me want to dance the pain away. My phone buzzed.

  Ty: Are you coming home today?

  Priya: Driving to Houston now.

  Ty: I can’t wait to hold you. x

  Mixed emotions brewed in my chest: happiness to be with Ty again and fear of having to make the decision again. Dread knotted in my throat. The decision had been made. It was just a matter of when I would have the guts to voice it.

  “Are you okay?” Vicki asked.

  “Just thinking.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Tulsi and Jeeta quieted in the backseat.

  “Maybe later.”

  My phone buzzed again.

  Manuk: Are you okay today?

  Why couldn’t he leave me alone?

  Priya: Yes.

  Manuk: Can I call you?

  Priya: No. Give me space.

  Manuk: You know I care. I won’t harass you, though. Call me when you’re ready.

  Fat flipping chance.

  Shoving aside my dilemma, I enjoyed the music, the company, and the banter. Vicki dropped off Tulsi and Jeeta.

  “Take some of the food,” I insisted. “It’s way too much.”

  “I’ll take some. I’ve been homesick for some of these dishes,” Jeeta said as she picked through a bag.

  “Take the whole bag.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “Thanks. Talk to you soon.”

  “Bye, guys.”

  I didn’t text Ty when we were fifteen minutes away or even when we arrived. It took two trips for us to get our belongings and all the food into the apartment. We piled things away in the fridge and freezer, now packed to the limit. We wouldn’t have to cook for weeks.

  After changing into pajamas, I tossed my clothes into the laundry and unpacked everything else.

  “Tyler might want some of this food.” Vicki planted her hands on her hips and stared at the last bag on the counter. “Won’t fit.”

  “I’ll take it over. Give me the rice and shaak, too.”

  Vicki added a second bag and handed them to me. “Want to talk?”

  “No, but thanks.” I left.

  With bags in hand, I walked down the hall and knocked on Ty’s door.

  He gave a lazy smile when he saw me. “Babe, come in.”

  He took the bags as I closed the door. “It’s leftovers from yesterday.”

  “Thanks. I brought some flowers for you.” He put the food away in the fridge, passing by a giant bouquet of red and white roses, then approached me.

  He brushed back my hair and cupped my cheek, running his thumb across my jaw. “How are you holding up?”

  As soon as one tear fell, the others unleashed their fury. Ty drew me into him. “Don’t cry, babe. Come here. All I want is to make you happy, help you get through this.”

  I rested my forehead on his chest. “Ty…” I had to tell him.

  “Babe, let me love you. Just tell me what to do.”

  He kissed me and I kissed back harder. “Make me forget, Ty.”

  He narrowed his brows. “Are you sure?”

  “So few things make me forget. Please.”

  When he opened his mouth, perhaps to question my judgment on how to grieve, I raised myself to my tiptoes and sucked his lower lip. He lifted me onto his hips and carried me into his bedroom.

  The sheets were cool beneath me, and Ty was hot above me. My mind wandered free, and my body ached with need as he made me forget this past week, but the pain lingered, exposed itself as aggression.

  I raked my nails down his back, beneath his shirt. He hissed. I shoved him off and stripped off my clothes while he took off his.

  I landed on top of him.

  “Babe, slow down.”

  My lips were on his. This was the last time I’d make love to Ty. It pissed me off. Anger, pain, everything bubbled up. I closed my eyes tight, thankful the room was dark so he couldn’t see the pain and fear and regret on my face. So that he would not know the extent of my weakness coiled with rage.

  With knowing his body so well, my hands and lips maneuvered without sight. I needed this, the control. I didn’t have any type of authority over death and the past, but I had command of this one situation, of this night in Ty’s bed. Without it, I might as well as slip away into the chaos known as my life.

  Aside from panting and groans, we remained quiet. Ty didn’t protest or speak. Maybe because he loved me, was desperate to keep me, or simply empathized. Whatever the case, any one and perhaps all of those reasons, he never uttered a word. He may have hissed when I bit too hard. At one point, the metallic taste of blood reminded me to calm down. He may have winced in the darkness when I rode him too hard. Contrary to popular belief, there was such a thing as too rough. But he never said anything, never stopped me.

  Anger and fear fueled this last time with Ty, but the climax was the best part. Not for obvious reasons, but because it was a near blackout. The surge and drain of adrenaline and endorphins nearly put me into a coma.

  Yes, a coma sounded nice.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tyler

  I hoped the worst of the storm had passed. A few weeks had drifted by since the funeral, and Pree spent every night tucked beside me in bed. Except every morning she woke up crying, convulsing from nightmares about her mom. I hurt with her and scrambled to find something, anything, I could to do to make her feel even the slightest bit like her old self.

  I was worried sick about how she overworked herself. The dark pigment under her eyes was darker, more pronounced. Pree looked as if she had just climbed out of hell and was about to fall back in.

  “Babe, talk to me,” I urged.

  She avoided eye contact, but I gently grasped her chin and forced her to look at me.

  “I know it’s difficu
lt, but you’re scaring me. You have nightmares all the time, you’ve stopped talking to me, you hardly eat. All you do is work and run.”

  “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “Good idea. I have something I want to show you.” I hoped my gift would help lift her spirits a little. But Pree had something to say, and she was way too calm for it to be anything good.

  My worry intensified as we walked to the riverside. Late evening came and the crowds of joggers and park jockeys headed home. Dark clouds rolled overhead as the wind picked up and it started to sprinkle.

  We paused on the river walk. I kept my eyes low, hands in my jacket pockets and head down.

  “What’s wrong? Please talk to me,” I said in a soft voice. I sort of knew what was coming, had known it since the hospital, since the funeral.

  Pree sniffled as the drizzle increased. She shivered as the rain dampened her hair and clothes.

  “Where’s your jacket?”

  “I don’t need one.”

  “You’re going to get even more sick.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “For God’s sake, Pree.” I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. I kept my hands there and wouldn’t let her pull away. “I’m not moving or letting you go until you tell me the truth. Is this about your mother?”

  She swallowed before going on. “Do you want to know what happened that day in the hospital room?”

  “Yes. I want to know how to help you.”

  “After I told her about you, she stopped talking to me. She disowned me. She spiraled into depression and stopped taking her medicine. She hardly ate, didn’t want to go anywhere, do anything. Headaches started and you know…”

  I rubbed her shoulders.

  “I did that to her. Then I wasn’t there for her because she hated me,” she choked out.

  “Babe.”

  “Let me finish.”

  I nodded.

  “She asked for two promises. How could I argue with her? How could I lie? I’ve never lied to her.”

  “What promises?” I tensed.

  “To take care of Papa and to…marry Manuk.”

  “Pree, you said yes in the moment. I understand you couldn’t have lied or argued. You did the right thing. Is that what’s got you so upset?”