Bittersweet

by Shewanda Pugh

  “Be calm? She sees the other boy, you fool!”

  “You told me to!” Edy cried.

  Rani barely registered her. “Did you know she writes to him? The neighbors say she visited him in the night.”

  Hassan hesitated. “What?”

  Edy looked from one to the other, heart triple beating for a burst. It was the worst time, the absolute worst time, for truth to reveal itself.

  “Edy?” Hassan said. His voice did something weird.

  “I wanted to know the truth about what happened to Lottie. I—I wanted to know if Wyatt was okay or as bad as the rumors said.” Her hands twisted together viciously, skin rubbing on skin.

  “You went to his house?” Hassan said. “Where was I? When was this?”

  She dropped her gaze, preferring the floor to a stare full of demands. “We had the Latin game. You were there.”

  “I was there,” he echoed dully.

  Emotion caught in her throat. She resisted the urge to cry. He couldn’t not believe her, not when she loved him the way she did.

  “Please, Hassan. You couldn’t ever believe that I’d …” The back of her hand pressed her mouth, shaking and unsteady. “I love you,” she said. “You know that. You know that still, don’t you?”

  “You cling to him,” Rani spat. “It isn’t love; it’s unhealthy.”

  “I love you, too,” Hassan said. “I’m just terrified when you go near that guy.”

  “Get out!” Rani cried. “I’ve had enough! Go!”

  She snatched Edy by the shirt and shoved her out the door.

  “Mom!” Hassan said. “What are you doing? Leave her alone!”

  In the hall, Rani snatched for Edy’s shirt, making it gape further. Edy gripped the fabric with both hands, desperate to keep it on.

  “I want you out our house! I want you out our lives!” Rani shoved hard in Edy’s side.

  “No!” Hassan cried.

  The floor slipped away, the hall pitched, and Edy tumbled into darkness.

  Thirty-Eight

  Edy opened her eyes and stared up at a flat white ceiling. She inhaled and the crush of pain forced air back out.

  “Small breaths. Take it easy.”

  Her gaze slid in the direction of the voice and a dark round face stared back at her.

  “How’s the pain?” the nurse said.

  The pain rose up to greet Edy, bold and snaking.

  “What happened? Where am I?”

  Edy jerked to sit up, but her body laid deadweight and leaden. Hysteria bubbled from down deep as her eyes swept the room.

  “Tell me what’s wrong with me.” This was a nurse; they were in a hospital. She last remembered fighting with Rani. Hassan yelling. Then this bed.

  “Hassan?” Edy said. “Where’s Hassan? Is he okay?”

  “Stay calm,” the nurse said. “He’s outside. Wait, I’ll get him.”

  It didn’t take long. When Hassan stepped in, he had a police officer beside him.

  “You’re awake,” he said. There was so much bright relief in those words that she began to cry in a horrid mixture of fear at what might have been and consolation that he was there.

  “You’re okay,” Hassan said and found her, to run a hand through her hair. “You’re okay, Cake. Everything’s all right. You’ll see. You’ll be fine.”

  The officer stood in one corner of the tiny white room, tall, brooding, attentive. “Can you answer a few questions?” he said. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

  “Our parents are in the waiting room,” Hassan said. “They agreed to let you be questioned first.”

  Police. Police here to question her about the fall. Edy’s gaze met quick with Hassan’s.

  This was his mother. This was their mother under suspicion.

  “I slipped and fell,” Edy said. “I got a little clumsy, that’s all. I don’t know why you’re here.”

  ~~~

  Edy left the emergency room with a broken nose, a freshly repositioned shoulder bone, and a body of contusions. A day passed and then another. No one questioned Edy’s version of events except her mother, and even then, she did so only once in her usual clipped, removed tone. Neither Edy nor Hassan saw much of his mother, who had taken up temple visits feverishly and shut herself away in the room. She didn’t cook; she didn’t clean, and no one spoke a word about it.

  About forty-eight hours after the Rani debacle, Edy’s father came home sullen, pensive, and studying her as if he hoped to learn something. It was mid-day summer hot, blistering really, and relief came in snatches of wavering shade and fast-draining lemonade. She’d been lounging on the patio swing with Hassan at her side. He hovered now, constant, diligent, and attentive.

  “We’re going to visit the Cape,” her father explained in that delicate way of his. “The ocean air should be good for you and we could all use the vacation time.”

  “We?” Hassan said.

  At this, Edy’s father met his gaze uncomfortably. “Our two families, Hassan. Us, your parents, and Rebecca.”

  Edy exchanged a look with him. This vacation would be good for her. It’d be Molotov-cocktail-doused-in-gasoline good.

  What a blast.

  “Well, it’s settled then,” her father said. “Your mother expressed an interest in seeing you. She’s also part owner of the house. Now go pack. We leave tonight.”

  They journeyed in three cars up the strong arm of Massachusetts, curling along the coast until their caravan reached North Truro. Edy rode with Hassan and the two sat in silence. On arrival, Rani made a beeline for her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

  “Headache,” Ali apologized.

  Edy spent the first night flipping through magazines in bed. Her shoulder managed to ache, so she took some pills for inflammation and pain, and channel surfed with Hassan.

  Edy’s mother showed up the next afternoon. As for Ali and Edy’s dad, they were painfully, obliviously, all about family time.

  “I suggest a movie marathon,” Ali said. “We can eat snacks and take turns selecting the films. Perhaps, my wife will feel up to this. She’s not been well lately, you know.”

  “I vote for board games,” Edy’s dad said. “They invite discourse and camaraderie.”

  They looked to Edy for a suggestion. She wanted ‘c’ for none of the above. She’d been hoping for a little alone time on the beach with Hassan.

  Edy exchanged a look with him. It appeared they’d be getting none of that, judging by the way both dads hovered over her. With them and Hassan at her side, they collided in their eagerness to do everything but breathe for Edy. On their second night at the Cape, they settled down for pizza and Scrabble, with even Edy’s mother taking part. Rani had another headache and stayed in their bedroom that night. Meanwhile, Hassan mixed his English, Hindi and Punjabi, from the start, anticipating a rough battle.

  Morning peeked over the horizon and Edy stared at the ceiling, reliving those moments before the fall, twisting them for a new outcome. Rani demanding that she get out her life, her shoving Edy away, the plunge, the plunge, her heart banging out a wounded cadence. Edy wouldn’t go to her. She would not go to Rani.

  Her heart, if not her nerves, felt like it was time for something else.

  She found Hassan on the beach behind their house seated on the rock they’d carved their names into.

  “Show me where,” Edy told him.

  He had no trouble finding it: “Hassan + Edy”. The ‘plus’ hadn’t been there before. Edy traced it with a finger. Hassan revealed a sharp stone.

  “I’m ready to tell them now,” she said.

  He jumped off the rock and pulled her into his arms, careful to mind her arm. “I know,” Hassan said. “Let’s go.”

  They gathered their parents in the living room. Ali hustled in, overeager and hands rubbing, while Edy’s dad took a sharper eye, silent, on guard. Rani took a seat on the far edge of the couch and leaned against the armrest, massaging her head. Never once did she look at Edy. Finally, Edy’
s mother sat with a legal pad in hand, alert, attentive, professional.

  Edy took her place before the firing squad and Hassan came beside her.

  “I can talk if you want,” he said, but she shook him off, waved him off.

  She was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and had a lot she needed to say. For the first time, she had the will and courage to speak. How could she pass this off to another, when her heart willed her to shout.

  “There’s no way to cushion what I need to tell you,” Edy said. “So, um, I’ll just talk. Hassan and I are in a relationship. We’re in love. We love each other.”

  Hassan took her hand and squeezed.

  Ali’s smile was the first to go, followed by the motion of her mother’s pen, and Rani’s headache. All four parents stared at them in what had to be the most attention Edy had ever seen. The tick of a mounted clock on the wall went on and on.

  Finally, Edy’s dad cleared his throat. “How long has this … love ensued? I’m not surprised—”

  “You’re not surprised?” Ali snapped.

  “No,” her father said. “I’m not. You shouldn’t be.”

  Edy’s dad wanted an answer. Forever, was what she wanted to say. But she knew they’d dismiss her as a childish. This was her chance, her only chance to be taken seriously.

  “When we fell in love is kind of a weird question,” Hassan said. “Given our history and our lives together. Take this place for instance. Our first memories are of loving each other, of being told to love each other by you guys,” he said. “That’s what we were taught.”

  “Don’t try to turn this on us!” Rani said.

  Every head turned to face her. Edy’s dad frowned in faint disapproval. Her mom scribbled on her notepad.

  “Mom,” Hassan said and put a hand on Edy’s arm. He swallowed. “Calm down.”

  “Hmm,” Edy’s mom said. “Now, that’s an interesting reaction.”

  She was sharp, Edy thought, razor sharp and baiting them. Her mother knew Edy’s fall had been suspicious.

  “Your mother has a point,” Ali said. “You’ve romanticized your upbringing because it serves your purposes, no?”

  “We’ve told you the truth,” Edy said. “I have no control over how you take it.”

  “But it’s difficult, sweetheart,” her father said. “This relationship you propose.”

  “It’s impossible,” Ali said. “I would not hurt you, Edy, but this has been decided. He has to marry Mala. I’m sorry.” Sadness etched his words.

  “Why?” Edy demanded. She pulled away from to take Ali’s hands in hers. “Tell me why, please.”

  Ali looked away.

  “Dad?” Hassan said uncertainly.

  “A long time ago,” Ali said. “I borrowed a great deal of money from Mala’s father. He was a grade school friend, well off, and generous enough to give more than I needed.”

  Rani’s eyes shot wide. “When was this?”

  Ali could find nowhere to look. “Hassan was in diapers and we had far too many bills. We could not manage. Those first few years were difficult.”

  “We were fine!” Rani cried. “We were always fine! You said so.”

  “We were not fine,” Ali said dully.

  “You had my dowry.”

  “I rejected your dowry on principle,” Ali said.

  “Fool,” Rani spat, voice low, word like a dirty breath.

  Ali turned on her, sharp enough to make her instantly sorry. Edy backed away, heart a stone, heavy in her chest.

  “I hold my principles here,” Hassan’s father said and thumped at his chest. “And I will not apologize for that. Certainly not to my wife.”

  “So you borrowed this money,” Hassan said. “Then what?” He took a seat in an armchair.

  Ali nodded apologetically. “Yes, well. I was unable to pay it immediately, so he put interest on it. Then, when my father was elected to Lok Sabha, Mala’s father expressed an interest in politics. But he lacked the necessary connections. He’d also just had Mala, so he made a proposition: forgiveness of the loan in exchange for a marital union between our children. We went through the business of consulting a matchmaker discretely. Their horoscopes were only adequately matched, but in the end, I consented. It meant better connections for our family in India, a strong match for my son, and a way to avoid financial ruin.”

  “Why wouldn’t you borrow the money from me?” Edy’s dad said, annoyance plain.

  “Because the house had come from you,” Ali said and again he earned baffled looks.

  Hassan’s father heaved a desperate sigh. “My family is an old one. We once had a great deal of money, enough to match the prestige. When I was being matched with my wife, I allowed the old assumptions of wealth to prevail. Furthermore, in my eagerness and youth, I embellished concerning my possessions. Nathan, here, had inherited both houses on Dunberry, as his father had built them. He lived in one, but was reluctant to put the other on the market for sentimental reasons. He offered to sell it to me privately, but, of course, I could not afford such a lavish home at market value.” Ali laughed. “He called it a wedding gift.”

  “That’s what it was.”

  Edy glanced over at Hassan, who sat unblinking, before she cleared her throat.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “But there’s still the question of us.” She gestured to her and Hassan.

  “Oh,” Ali said. “It’s out of the question. I’m sorry.” And he did look sorry, at least.

  Edy blinked. “I don’t think you understand. We’re not asking for permission.”

  “You sold me to pay off your debts,” Hassan said as if jolted wide awake. “That’s the gist of what you’re saying, right? You sold me and you hope I don’t run off.”

  Ali’s mouth flapped open. Hassan stormed off and everyone stared.

  “We will be together,” Edy said. “Please get used to the idea.” She looked at Rani as she spoke, but Rani refused to look back.

  Epilogue

  Senior year arrived and Edy watched the Pradhans put bars on Hassan’s window. His keys to the Phelps house were confiscated and his hours were rigidly monitored. With autumn, they plunged into football and SATs. They spent available moments in study hall and at her house vetting colleges and comparing lists. The offensive needs of southern squads were held up against dance programs and their value. They slashed a list of twenty down to twelve and twelve down to nine, before Hassan admitted to Edy that he wanted Lawrence at school with him.

  After he conferred with his best friend, the list slashed from nine down to five. They ranked the colleges by favorites via arguing and waited for admission results to come in.

  Edy’s mother came to visit and she asked about what happened on the stairwell. When Edy refused to flesh out her original tale, her mother tried out an alternate version of. “She found you and Hassan together and didn’t like what she saw. A bit of shouting and arm swinging followed before Rani helped you down the stairs.” She flashed hot in naked agitation when Edy wouldn’t agree. “Well, if you change your mind and decide to tell the truth, I’ll support you.”

  When the admissions letter came back alongside the scholarship offers, Lawrence held his press conference with his parents flanking him. Both parents wore Georgia pins and sat straight with proud grins.

  He’d pulled out a simple white fitted cap turned backwards so the logo wouldn’t show.

  “This fall,” Lawrence had said, “I'll be taking my talents to Louisiana State University.” He pulled his cap on, amidst the mania of flashing lights.

  The next day, Hassan committed to LSU as well.

  While Edy’s process wasn’t so action packed, she had excitement nonetheless. She’d earned a dance scholarship to LSU on condition that she maintains performance roles at the school. For the first time in Edy’s life, she would have to dance.

  More and more, Edy’s thoughts turned to her grandparents in Kentucky. More specifically, she thought of her grandmother and her ballerina’s dream.
With Rani rendered reclusive, absent from her life, Edy found herself without a friend to talk art.

  The first time she called her grandmother, she hung up when the phone rang. A week later, Edy tried again and got her. They talked chicken farming and auras, Kentucky football and shotguns.

  There was a new model she wanted to grab.

  Eventually, Edy worked her way up to sharing the news—her and Hassan’s news.

  “I’m glad you’ve seen your way to sense,” her grandmother said. “And decided to do what makes you happy.”

  Caught off guard by the simple pleasure of being congratulated, Edy found her vision blurring and she cursed herself for weakness. Then she thought better, she knew better, because she’d lived better and learned.

  Weakness was lack of expression; an inability to share emotion. Her love had been muted once; she’d felt powerless, worthless because of it. Strength had with love, self love and a love of others. Love brought with it forgiveness, as she’d done for Rani.

  She was a dream chaser, her grandmother said and Edy supposed she qualified as one. She’d embraced her relationship with Hassan and her obsession with dance. Both came to her at supreme costs, the bitter with the sweet. Her parents gave no financial support for her ‘education of leisure’ and her relationship with Rani was shattered. Only Ali showed promise.

  He hadn’t called her ‘princess’ in a while, but he didn’t stop calling altogether. Not when he saw her in the yard, checking mail, or on the street. No, Ali hadn’t stopped calling, even when Edy and Hassan moved to Louisiana.

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  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to all my readers; your enthusiasm overwhelms me. Thanks to my team of doctors, my parents, and my husband. Without their daily support during difficult times, Bittersweet wouldn’t have been possible. Every day gets a little better. Big thanks to three rock star authors: Lashanta Charles, Allison M. Dickson, and Brynette L. Turner. Please love and support these women. They’re thoughtful and talented. Finally, did I thank my fans? I really do love you!