As Daly retreated to her bedroom, Kashi slipped a small paper scrap into her hand. It had been folded over several times, until it was barely the size of a coin. In the security of Mishti's room, with the door closed, she smoothed out the crumpled note.
~~~
Dear Beautiful,
Meet me on the terrace at midnight.
:-)
~~~
Daly smiled. Kashi found her beautiful. Maybe that was enough.
She changed into her pajamas, putting on her sexiest bra and panties—the ones with a little lace around the edges. Maybe tonight would be the night. After all, she had always wanted her first time to be special. Before returning to the drawing room, she dropped the note into her suitcase and covered it with a few unfolded garments.
Please let the rest of the evening pass by quickly.
That evening, Meenu wandered around the apartment distractedly fluffing pillows and dusting surfaces. The rest of the family was watching the latest episode of Indian Idol and dipping jeera biscuits in their tea. Meenu had never enjoyed the annoying reality show, and couldn't force herself to sit and feign interest for an entire hour. Chai-ji's earlier behavior still bothered her.
Recently, her mother-in-law, who had always been rational, had become increasingly disoriented. She knew it wouldn't be much longer until, well.... And the house would be empty without the constant scraping of her walker. For thirty-five years, Chai-ji had followed her through the house, providing a stream of unsolicited advice.
Meenu shook off these unwelcome thoughts. She would do something productive—the wash. Without an automatic washing machine, this task required a huge effort, especially now that she had three additional people to take care of. She'd need twice the time to sort and clean the laundry. The American's would be the worst. Dolly did not seem to understand how to use her clothes multiple times to save water and effort.
Meenu swept through the apartment, collecting clothing from closets, dressers, and suitcases. She began sifting through Dolly's luggage, gritting her teeth and preparing to do an entire load of Dolly's clothes alone.
Tucked between several soiled shirts, she found a small note. Meenu sighed. Careless girl.
She smoothed out the edges of the paper and stooped to place it on the bureau, setting a bottle of perfume on top to keep the note in place. Although she had not meant to pry, its message caught her eye.
~~~
Dear Beautiful,
Meet me on the terrace at midnight.
:-)
~~~
Meenu recognized her son's writing instantly. Akash had said this girl was merely a friend. Why had she believed him? Dolly was exactly the type he fell for, too—fair and willowy and slightly awkward. A flash of heat warmed her face. How could she have been so stupid—tricked by the son she had raised so tenderly? Why would the young girl travel so far for anything less than love?
Unacceptable—the relationship, the lie, the trickery that took place right under her nose. She refused to allow it to carry on any further.
At midnight, Daly sneaked through the apartment and into the hall. She smoothed down her pajamas and ran fingers through her sleep-knotted hair before climbing the stairs to the terrace.
Kashi, who had been waiting near the edge of the roof, rushed over and took her in his arms. "I keep seeing you in that saree," he murmured. "Whenever I close my eyes, I see it. It's driving me mad."
"So, you liked it?" Daly giggled as his tongue traced her exposed collarbone.
"Are you kidding? I loved it. I couldn't wait to have you alone so I could unwind the fabric and uncover the treasure beneath." He worked his way from her collarbone to her neck.
She embraced him and returned his kisses, teasing between breaths, "How poetic."
"Mmm...." He kissed her furiously, slipping a hand underneath her pajama top to cup her bare breast.
Daly moaned as he reached for the drawstring on her pajama pants. This is really happening, she thought, then chided herself for analyzing the moment instead of living in it.
Just as Kashi untied the knot, a high-pitched shriek cut through the darkness.
Daly jerked away. Her eyes shot to the staircase, then back toward Kashi.
Dread filled his eyes.
"What! What is this?" Meenu Auntie bulldozed toward them.
Daly gulped. Kashi's dread seeped into her bones.
His mother fell upon them, grabbing her son around his waist and ripping him off Daly. "Akash, how could you? You lied to your mother! You have disgraced your whole family!" She spat on the ground and stomped her foot.
"Mummy...." Kashi pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. "Mummy, we were going to tell you."
Meenu threw her hands up. "We gave you everything, everything! This is how you thank us? You cannot go around with this White girl! It is not right! We know nothing about her! Who is she? What sort of family does she come from? She cannot be good enough for you!"
Daly fixed her eyes on the cement ground. The words stung. Meenu didn't approve. Why not? Hadn't they been getting along? Only a few hours ago, the whole family had sung her praises in chorus.
Meenu fell to the ground, clutching her face with her hands and wailing. "Tu humare saath yeh kaise kar sakta hai?" She repeated it again and again.
Kashi reached down to comfort his mother, but she jerked away.
Daly wrapped her arms around herself and rocked from side to side. Kashi hadn't even glanced her way since his mother had come tearing onto the roof.
A group of people trickled onto the terrace to observe the spectacle. Meenu's tantrum had woken the rest of the family and at least half a dozen neighbors. She wished she could escape, but her feet wouldn't move.
"Meenu, kya hua?" Rishi Uncle asked, joining his wife and son.
Meenu raised a shaky finger and pointed at Daly. "This gori has tempted our son. She has caught him in her trap. She has tricked him. She has spoiled him."
She wished Kashi's mother would just slap her—surely, it would hurt less. The temptress? The villain? Really?
Meenu raved in a long, uninterrupted chain of Hindi.
Daly didn't understand the words, but the transparent emotions caused her heart to sink. She knew how important Kashi's family was to him. He would never commit to her without their approval. Things must be over between them, and now she was all alone in this strange country.
Mishti tried to make peace. "Mummy, it's not so bad. She's a good girl. Akash loves her. They—"
Rishi Uncle shot Mishti a venomous look, stopping her mid-sentence.
Mishti gave Daly a little hug, but the warmth never touched her broken heart. "Don't worry. This will pass us by." Mishti moved to Kashi, squeezing his shoulder and standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
Jaya stood behind her father, her eyes wide with shock. After Mishti, nobody paid attention to Daly. They turned to each other, gesturing and yelling.
Kashi apologized, his eyes cast down.
Out of the spotlight, Daly whisked back into the apartment. She frantically gathered whatever lay near her suitcase and shoved it inside. Mishti's wallet lay on the bureau. She had spent the last of her money on the peacock tapestry, and couldn't get far on no cash. After hesitating a moment, she took it, praying her friend would forgive her this theft.
When she had stuffed in as much as the suitcase would hold, Daly raced down the stairs and into the cold midnight air. She could still hear the family quarreling on the rooftop. Their voices rained down on her like a hail of fire and venom.
She made her way toward the main road and hopped into the back of the first taxi available, an auto-rickshaw.
"To the Taj Resort, please. Quickly."
Chapter 15
I do not belong here. I do not belong anywhere.
"Hello, there. Don't I know you, darlin'?" Belle stood over Daly, munching on a crumbling Danish pastry.
Daly woke with a start, blinking up at the speaker.
What’s going on? W
here am I?
"I'm sorry," Belle said. "I didn't mean to be a bother. I was just surprised to see you again, what with all the millions of people floating around this city." She turned to walk away and rejoin her friends in the dining hall.
"No, don't go!" Daly called. She popped to her feet, knocking over her suitcase. "I was looking for you, actually."
"Why would you be looking for me?" Belle shoved the remaining pastry into her mouth and brushed her hands over her khaki shorts.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I remembered you said you were staying here. You see, the family I was staying with, um, found out I am—was—dating their son. I sort of ran away. I was hoping I might be able to join up with the group, if that's okay."
Belle gave Daly a sticky hug, and led her into the dining hall. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Of course, you can join us, for just as long as you need. You'll have to talk with our tour director, but he's very understanding. I'm sure he'll be able to arrange everything. Now c'mon, dear, you look like you could use a good breakfast."
Daly appeased her companion by sipping on a tall glass of orange juice. A pastry with a circle of chocolate remained untouched on her plate.
Belle dragged over an authoritative looking man. He looked down at her over his high cheekbones and nicely chiseled face. His nametag read Bentley: Wondrous World Travel Coordinator.
"This is Daly. She was in love with an Indian fella, and his family shunned her and kicked her right out onto the street. Poor thing has nowhere else to go. Won't you make an exception and let her join us?"
"How long do you intend to stay?" The tour director's British accent rolled over her, and she blushed. Any other day she would have appreciated his good looks and sophisticated air, but today, she felt too sad to care.
"I... I don't know. I don't have a lot of money. I can't buy a return ticket and my flight isn't for another few weeks. Can I stay with you for a few days until I get everything sorted out? I will pay you when I can...."
"Our tour is full, but I suppose I can make an exception upon payment."
"But I haven't got very much money...."
"Wondrous World accepts all major credit cards." The director narrowed his eyes at her. "Have you, in your possession, a credit card?"
Daly pulled her Visa card out of her wallet, praying she had enough available credit to cover the purchase.
Bentley took the card and sauntered into the hallway to place a call. In a few moments, he returned, offering her a massive smile. "Now that that's all taken care of...." He handed back her card and receipt, then brushed his hands against one another. "Ms. Abbott, I presume she will be boarding with you for the time being?"
"Of course she will!" Belle wrapped an arm around Daly's shoulder and pulled her into her warm, sweaty body.
"Welcome aboard, Ms. English." Satisfied, the coordinator walked away.
Belle said, "We're heading off in about half an hour for a quick tour. Do you need to take a shower and whatnot? I can show you up to the room."
"No, I'm fine. I mean, if it's all the same to you, I really need a good long rest. I'm exhausted and don't think I can be on my feet the whole day."
Belle grabbed Daly's suitcase and directed her toward the shining gold doors of the elevator. "Never you mind. C'mon, I'll take you on up to settle in."
"I realize it must be hard, trusting me when you barely know me. I'd be happy to give you my IDs and what little money I have as collateral. So you know I'm not going to try to rob you while you're out."
"Oh, no. Don't you worry. I can tell you're a nice girl. You wouldn't do anything like that. I'm just worried about your poor heart. Will you be okay by yourself all day?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. You have fun. Take some pictures." Daly forced a smile and hugged her benefactor once more, thanking God there were still good, kind people in the world.
Belle left with the rest of the group, and Daly rang down to the front desk to request extra blankets and pillows. She made up a bed for herself on the floor, not wanting to inconvenience her new roommate any more. She shifted through a series of positions, none comfortable on the hard floor. After an hour, she gave up and decided to take inventory of her possessions in an attempt to pass the time.
Mishti's wallet contained roughly three thousand rupees. She still had another five thousand of her own, but eight thousand rupees wouldn't last long, even if she lived frugally.
What exactly is included in this tour? And for that matter, how much did I pay?
Daly had been so relieved to be admitted to the group, she hadn't asked about the cost. Judging from the fine silk draperies and marble countertops, she'd paid a pretty penny.
She took a deep breath and unfolded the receipt. The sum scrawled across the bottom of the pink carbon paper was higher than the value of her car.
Perfect. Now I'll return home without money or a boyfriend. Back to square one.
She folded and refolded the paper, working it into a simple origami aircraft, then hurled it into the air. The plane crashed into the wall and slid to the ground.
Daly shoved the wad of cash into her pocket and continued thumbing through the wallet. She smiled wanly as she flipped through the miniature photo booklet inside.
A teenage Kashi stared at her from an old-fashioned, banana seat bicycle. A much younger Mishti straddled the handlebars. Both wore grins frozen in time. Daly brushed his image with her thumb, recalling the real-life coarseness of his face when he needed a shave.
She sighed. How would she stop loving him? Even now when she should have been furious, she couldn't help but care for him.
She forced herself to remember the way he'd strung her along with, "fate this, destiny that." How he'd made her keep their relationship secret; how he'd ignored her while his mother screamed insults for all of Delhi to hear.
Despite everything, she couldn't hate him. If Kashi had been right about destiny, maybe this was how their story was meant to play out. Maybe the universe was trying to tell Daly she was better off by herself. At least when things had ended with Rick, it had been easy to regain her composure and move forward—especially after Kashi entered the scene.
The old Daly would never have let herself fall this hard for a man—particularly one she'd met so recently—let alone agree to travel across the world with him after only two months. What had prompted her to start letting all these people in? Wasn't she better off before, when she kept the few people in her life at arm's length?
She shook her head at the contents of Mishti's wallet. It didn't hold much: a few IDs, some cash, photos, and a large silver coin in a plastic case. She examined the silver piece. The goddess Laxmi reached out with a lotus flower in one hand while holding the other in a gesture of peace. Etched on the opposite side of the coin were Hindi words. She couldn't read the message, but assumed the coin was something like a talisman—Mishti's lucky charm.
Daly placed the coin back into the fold of the wallet. Kashi had convinced her to believe in fate and all the magic it implied. Now she felt like a fool. Why had she let him lead her on like that? She wasn't meant for people. Maybe one day she'd find peace living alone on top of a hill somewhere—a place where she could just paint and live a monastic life, far away from the troubles others brought.
She remembered cozying up to the Iron Pillar. Why hadn't she wished for things to turn out all right with Kashi? Way to waste my wish on Mom! Should she call Laine—or at least Meghann—to check in? And use up her last rupees on international phone rates? No, that was a bad idea. Besides, she needed to learn to survive on her own.
She emptied the contents of her suitcase onto the floor. She'd only had enough time to grab one of her two suitcases from the family's apartment before rushing away. The suitcase contained enough clothing to make five complete outfits, which should do for her remaining time in India. Sadly, she'd accidentally abandoned the beautiful new saree. It was for the better, she supposed, since the gorgeous dress had played a major role in Meenu Auntie's
discovery.
Serves you right for trying to be better than you actually are.
In the suitcase's front pocket, she found her sketch diary and some pencils. She hadn't even realized until now how much she'd neglected her artwork since arriving in Delhi. Without Kashi to inspire her, she was grateful she'd finished her scholarship portfolio and submitted it before leaving the States.
Daly set her pencil to the paper and sketched mindlessly, her artistic memory calling up images from the past. She glanced wistfully at her first sketch—a landscape of some mountains, the sun, and clouds—and turned to a new page.
The page revealed a nude Kashi posing awkwardly on a sofa, candle light reflecting on his buttery skin. She tore that portrait into little pieces and flushed them down the toilet. She hardly ever ripped anything from her precious journal, but allowing him to stay would hurt more than damaging her collection of memories.
She continued frantically, drawing the Iron Pillar, a portrait of Mishti, and penciling the outline of an auto-rickshaw. Her final drawing reflected the hotel room in all its finery. An empty space the size and shape of a person stooped over the large window, craning forward, as if it could somehow fall even further into nonexistence.
That last sketch depleted her remaining stores of energy, and finally, sleep took her. She hadn't even thought to turn to the image of her father for guidance.
The next morning, Daly woke to the muffled sound of a hairdryer behind the closed bathroom door. She arose, folded her bedding, and knocked on the door. "Belle?"
"Oh, good. You're up! Seems you had quite the catnap."
"Yeah," Daly said, rubbing the back of her head. "I guess you might say that. So, what's the plan for today?"
"We'll be leaving on the bus just after lunch. We've got the morning to lie low, get in some restin' and relaxin'. I'm just headed down for breakfast. Wanna come? You must be starved!"
"You're right, I'm famished. Let's go." Daly threw a loose sweater over her pajamas and tucked her hair into a sloppy bun. "So what's next?"
A Colorful Life: Drawn in Broken Crayon Page 17