by JB Schroeder
“It’s okay,” Meenu said. “He has a cold only, according to your father.” She’d fallen into the speech pattern of the elder generation just in talking to her father. Kalpani breathed easier.
Meenu greeted Kalpani’s mother, who offered her some tea, then rose to reheat the water.
“Where are your other little ones?” Kalpani asked, concerned that she had left them with her husband.
“With my mother.” Meenu looked Kalpani directly in the eyes for the first time in a long time. “The kids and I are living with my parents now.”
Kalpani’s throat closed and she fought tears once more. Chetana spun around, one hand to her heart.
Meenu slid into a chair, almost as if her knees had given out at the admission. She and Kalpani grasped hands and squeezed. Kalpani was too choked up to speak.
“We will talk about that sometime in the future,” Meenu said, a solemnness in her voice. Then she offered a hesitant smile. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But you have never shied away from telling me truths I did not want to hear. It’s time now for you to listen to me.”
Kalpani grimaced.
“Auntie Chetana is right. If you are considering this man, then he must be very special indeed.”
Kalpani raised an eyebrow. She was torn here. Meenu, of all people, advocating commitment after what she’d been through? And yet Meenu knew her well and loved her. It would be wrong not to listen.
“And I think,” Meenu said, and smiled in thanks for the tea her mother set in front of her, “that you have taken to heart my situation when you shouldn’t have. Others, too, of course.” She held Kalpani’s gaze.
Kalpani knew she thought of the red-eyed woman who had come to her father for care so many years ago. They had discussed it many times as children but would not now in front of her mother.
“I must be truthful with you now.” Meenu took a deep breath. “There were signs. I didn’t see them.” She shook her head. “No—I chose not to.”
Kalpani sucked in a breath, and a shiver traveled down her arms.
“That’s me,” Meenu said. “It’s not you. It will never be you.” She reached out to squeeze Kalpani’s hand again. “Please do not limit your life or give up a chance at a good man’s love because of me. I couldn’t bear it.”
20
“Nice.” Disgusted with himself, Jonah threw his phone on the guest bed at his mom’s. Besides averting another run-in with the police, he had known better than to hope for anything more out of texting Kalpani.
Still the one-word response—Okay, along with the passcode to Xanadu—annoyed the shit out of him. The code didn’t mean she trusted him. She could and would change the numbers as soon as he was gone. And her reticence, sadly, didn’t surprise him. She hadn’t responded after the wedding weekend, either. Avoidance was, apparently, her MO.
He didn’t like it, but honestly, at this point it was probably better this way. He needed to stop liking anything about Kalpani—and fast. The last few days had been brutal.
He’d truly thought he’d met “the one” and that they’d been on some path to happily ever after. That maybe, just maybe, that crazy little Pennsylvania town of True Springs had something with its magical water. Naive, unrealistic thoughts that pegged him as a total sap. He owned it, though. She’d fooled him but good.
Yet the fault was his own. Because from the beginning, she had warned him of two things. One, she never wanted a relationship. And two, she didn’t want a messy extraction.
Well, despite the last few weeks of bliss tricking him into believing otherwise, Kalpani had gotten exactly what she’d wanted. He’d walked away, effectively breaking them up, and now he was removing his things from her space, without involving her more than a thirty-second text exchange. No relationship, no drama.
She was probably relieved. She’d had her fun, and now she could dust off her hands and be rid of him just that easy. But he was crushed, bitter, raw, and reeling. Jonah swore for the thousandth time.
Sunday morning, Jonah was still rolling it all around in his head, torturing himself, like the spinning wheel on his computer stuck in its processing loop. Maybe after today—when he could focus on setting up his new studio—he’d be able to start putting it behind him.
He drank a cup of coffee, trying not to wake his mom. But she came out and joined him, concern on her face. She knew perfectly well it wasn’t the early hour that was responsible for his misery. “You sure you don’t want to try to talk to her?”
“I’m sure.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “You boys come to the diner for dinner when you’re done.”
He nodded and left to go pick up the rental van, calling Jake on the way.
“I’m up, I’m up,” Jake muttered.
Sadie murmured something awfully close to the phone, and Jonah hung up before he heard anything he didn’t want to.
Jeremy was next and answered on the fifth ring. “I’m busy,” he said gruffly in lieu of a greeting. Darcy’s “you sure are” was audible before the line went dead.
Shit. He didn’t begrudge his brothers their happiness, or their sex lives, but damn if he needed to feel any worse about his suddenly single status right now.
In a total funk, he retrieved the rental van, then stopped to pick up some sandwiches. Even if they’d already eaten, Jonah suspected they’d need the sustenance long before they called it a day and headed for The Wanderlust. Hauling that wide-format printer up the stairs had been hell. This time they also had to deal with his oversized work table and get both out without marking the freshly painted walls, into the truck, and then into his newly rented studio.
Jonah backed the truck into the small lot behind Xanadu taking up all the parking spaces.
He didn’t feel comfortable hanging out inside Xanadu any more than necessary. So, he sat on the low, cold cement stoop, killing time as he waited for his brothers.
He was lucky they were always willing to come to his aid, even on a Sunday when they should be chilling in bed with their soul-mate wives. He hoped they knew he’d do the same for them, but so far, they’d never asked.
He scuffed his boot in the dirt, then leaned back on his elbows to look at the sky. It was gray, like his mood, and he couldn’t shake the train of thought.
He was the baby of the family, the fuck-up, the underachiever. If felt like no one had ever counted on him for anything…until Sohel. That, more than anything else, Jonah knew, was the reason that he had never moved on from the print shop. Sohel had appreciated him, needed him, and relied on him—and seemingly never even considered that he shouldn’t.
Jonah was kind, thoughtful, conscientious, responsible, and steady. Hell, those were some of his best qualities. He’d proved himself over and over—just by being himself. He was a solid guy—he could be counted on. He wanted to be that for someone—needed to have someone need him.
But Kalpani wasn’t ever going to fill that role. She didn’t trust easily. She didn’t even want commitment, let alone to rely on him—a guy she, for some reason, didn’t think that highly of. Even though, he’d thought, he’d proven both his character and his devotion to her.
He shook his head. He wasn’t going to settle for that…
But he did need to figure out how to get past it.
Jake and Jeremy strolled up then, and Jonah thanked them for coming.
“Dude, of course,” Jeremy said.
“How are you doing?” Jake asked.
They’d known that he and Kalpani had become an item, and he’d considered just letting them continue to think that at least through today. Instead, he told them the shit news when he’d asked them to come and help. Ripping off that Band-Aid quickly was, he figured, another step toward dealing with this new reality.
He shrugged. “Sucks, but whatever.”
“There’s other fish in the ocean for sure,” Jake said.
“Yeah,” Jeremy said, “if she doesn’t want you, she’s crazy.” Suddenly, his eyes bu
gged out.
Jonah heard footsteps on the cinders behind him—then Kalpani’s voice. “She’s not crazy.”
He whipped around.
“And she does want you,” Kalpani said.
Jonah’s heartbeat hit double time, but his brain stalled. Inexplicably, Kalpani was here, looking nervous, unsure, red-nosed, and puffy-eyed. She clutched a big container of something—her mother’s Sunday cooking, from the scent—like a lifeline.
She had just admitted out loud—in front of his brothers—that she wanted him.
He felt a shove from behind, and Jake said, “Say something.”
“Hi,” he managed, and heard Jeremy groan.
He whirled around to glare at them. “Take a hike. But don’t go far. We have work to do.”
21
Kalpani let Jonah’s brothers into the salon, their hands laden with food, then breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind them. “I didn’t expect to be apologizing with an audience.”
Jonah’s jaw clenched. “You haven’t apologized.”
“You’re right, I haven’t.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry.” She took a fortifying breath. “So very sorry for assuming the worst, for expecting you to…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I expected. But I do know I didn’t give you a real chance. I didn’t judge you on you. I judged you on some preconceived ideas I had. You were right about that, too.”
Jonah nodded and his expression softened a little, which made the little glimmer of hope she had flare to life.
“Will you sit?” she asked.
They sat side by side on the cement stoop. She looked at the ground, then at Jonah, her hands unconsciously smoothing over one another. She wanted her comforting lotion—as if it’d protect her—but realized that would only be stalling. She tucked her hands into her armpits. “I’d like to explain.”
Kalpani started at the beginning. She talked about the woman with the red eye, and the stylists coming out of the salon with their wads of cash, and her vow to become independent.
She even told him about Meenu. “I planned her shower. I was her maid of honor. I thought I had gotten to know her fiancé well. During those months, I allowed myself to think it was possible to marry for love as a modern Indian woman, with an education and a career, and escape all the traps. He had me snowed, too. I never saw it coming. And then I didn’t trust even my own judgment.”
“The vow you made as a child cemented itself.”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“What about your own parents?” Jonah asked.
“My father would never raise a hand to my mother or anyone. He’s a gentle, intellectual sort. He’s a doctor—not officially, though—and believes in healing people, never harming. But their marriage is more of a 1950s union than what I see in your family.”
She looked at the sky and saw a peek of sun through the gray. “Your brothers, and even what I’ve heard about your parents makes me think that maybe…” She shook her head. “They do seem to prove that it’s possible, but it’s you that matters. You are a good man. The best kind of man. Honorable and thoughtful and giving.” She choked back tears. She’d wronged him terribly. “If you are willing to give me another chance…”
Jonah looked at her. “You know I would never hit you or abuse you or—”
“I know,” she said. “I never once thought you would.” She shifted to face him better and cleared her throat. “It wasn’t ever about that. It’s about how easy it is to end up under someone’s thumb. Between the Indian marriages I see—so many women subservient to their husbands and dependent on them. And the immigrant experience—almost always on the bottom of the heap, scrabbling, scraping… I promised myself I would never be dependent on anyone but myself, never have to rely on anyone but myself, never be beholden, never let anyone hold me down. Not my father. Not a husband. I promised myself I would never marry.”
“Ho-whoa,” Jonah said. “Okay, I get it. But first of all—I want what my parents had. Not the piece of paper, but a true partnership. Equal and supportive. Second, I’m simply not that guy. I’m never going to hamper you. I would be—Jesus—so fucking honored to support you in whatever you want.”
Kalpani couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. She’d never been the emotional sort, but falling in love with Jonah—yes, dang it, love—and then separating from him had put her through the wringer. “I’ve never been a crier, but lately…”
Jonah wiped her face with his thumb. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “You want a whole chain of salons, I’ll support you. You’re tired of owning your own business and you want to go on a soul-searching trip to India for six weeks? Go. I’ll water your plants and adopt your dog and pay your rent.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“Not yet,” he said, and she knew he was teasing her just a bit. “You want me to come with you? I’ll carry your bags and keep you safe from creepy men.”
“Okay,” she said, with a sniff and a smile.
“Wait,” Jonah said. “You need to know that someday I would love kids. But I can live without officially getting married.”
She nodded. That was actually good. She’d wondered how she would manage kids without a man. Oh, she knew how the science could work, but raising kids alone wasn’t that simple.
But Jonah wasn’t finished. “You want to make sure I can never own half of your salon, or you’ll never be forced to file taxes jointly? Fine. You want to live in sin and tick off your parents, I can deal.” He tucked the hair that was sticking to her wet cheeks behind her ears. “As long as I know that you are committed, in this relationship, with me, for keeps, it’s all good.” He smiled just a little then. “Someday, you change your mind and want to get married? I’m in for that, too.”
She sucked in a shaky breath.
His smile slipped, his expression intense now, as he looked into her eyes. “I’m yours, whatever that’s going to mean. I just can’t do it halfway.”
Jonah, as always, seemed to know exactly what she needed. Not a traditional proposal, but a soul-deep, permanent offer of his generous heart and his strong hand.
Hers, forever, if she was brave enough to reach out and grasp it.
Kalpani gulped, tried to speak, and gulped again. Finally, she said, “Yes. I don’t want to do it alone after all. I want to do life with you.”
Then she just broke down and sobbed with overwhelming relief. She hadn’t lost Jonah.
He gathered her into his chest. He was so warm, strong, and solid. She breathed deep lungfuls of the scent that was his alone—cinnamon and male strength—and slowly, she calmed.
For so long, she’d fought against needing anyone. She never knew how wonderful it could be to have someone you could count on. Someone in it with you, standing tall beside you, navigating every sharp turn and steep hill with their steps matched to yours. And Jonah, she knew now, would be—every step of the way.
22
The Wanderlust
Sunday, April 19th
Rita
Easter had passed. The second Easter without Chuck. How was it possible that a whole year had come and gone since he’d died?
And now another Sunday marked her calendar. Rita puttered around the Wanderlust, tidying tables after the lunch crowd had dispersed. They were fully staffed today, and Jake and Sadie were in the kitchen. And in a few hours, Jeremy and Darcy, as well as Jonah and his girlfriend Kalpani, would arrive for an early dinner.
Rita wished Chuck could be there. He would have loved seeing his boys with these fine young women. He had already been proud of the men his sons had become—but seeing them committed and content? That was a whole ’nother ball of wax.
It didn’t matter one bit that Jonah and Kalpani claimed they weren’t sure they’d ever make it official. Those two were a true love match if Rita had ever seen one. They’d make it.
She had no doubt they’d be successful in their careers, as well. Xanadu was already thriving. And Rita got such a thr
ill every time she saw the two huge JW canvases hung permanently in each of the front windows. Her son was incredibly talented. Apparently, the women who frequented the salon agreed; they were buying up Jonah’s smaller display pieces like hotcakes. Kalpani had tried to coax him back to the salon’s top floor, but Jonah had refused to give up the new studio space. Given the stunning work he’d been turning out, Rita thought having a place of his own must be good for his creativity. Then again, she chuckled, maybe it was just Kalpani that was good for him.
Their boys were happy. And they barely needed her. She was thrilled for them and excited to grow the Walker family, truly, but she also felt like a baby bird getting nudged ever so steadily out of her nest.
She knew it was time now to focus on her. She’d grieved—oh yes, she had definitely grieved—but she hadn’t moved forward or made any changes. She’d even set her travel dates as far out as possible. The kids had given her the world trip last Mother’s Day, for goodness’ sake.
She moved to the next table, aligning condiments and double-checking that the seats hadn’t any crumbs. When she straightened, she found herself facing the wall of photos and postcards her clients, family, and friends had sent over the years from their vacations and adventures.
Her own adventure was coming up fast. No more excuses; it was time for this old bird to try flapping her wings. Quite frankly, she was both elated and terrified.
The diner had been part of her life even longer than her children had. It was also a strong tie to her husband. Frustrated, she tossed the rag she’d been using on the table. Dammit, she still missed Chuck so much. But Jake and Sadie were perfectly capable of running the place. It was time she let them.
She’d been feeling awkward about coming back after her six-week journey around the world. Did she just reinsert herself? What else did she even know how to do? Where else would she go?