“What made you decide?” I asked.
“It’s funny, because India wasn’t as bad as we thought. There is a decent gay scene. You’d be surprised. There were secret bars and lounges. No one would have pressured me to come out of the closet, either. The closet was a comfortable place for all of us there. I was actually enjoying it.”
“So, why didn’t you stay?”
“Because it wasn’t me. I didn’t like living like that, wondering if I’d be caught. My mother had started to talk about available girls, and I just kept thinking about it. It’s one thing for me to pretend I’m someone else, but could I subject her to that? Some innocent girl, who marries a man who has no physical interest in her? It seemed wrong.”
I shuddered at his words. In a way, it wasn’t so different from what I was doing. I felt like a hypocrite. I slumped down in my chair and took another deep drag as the joint was past to me.
“So, that’s it? You just woke up one day and made that decision?” Rachael asked.
Raj took a long drink of water. “I had a catalyst that drove me to it.”
“What?” I asked.
“Mr. Mukopadhyay.”
Rachael and I stared at him quizzically.
“Mr. Muko-who?” Rachael asked.
“Mr. Mukopadhyay. Remember when I came to the states a few months ago when my parents sold their house?”
Rachael and I nodded.
“I was the power of attorney so I spent the week there, packing up the house by myself, and I saw him. He was our neighbor. Our subdivision is mostly Indian families—it was nicknamed Little India. My parents chose it for that reason. Mr. Mukopadhyay was this guy who had moved into his parent’s house after they’d passed away. Growing up, all the parents warned their kids to stay away from him. They called him peculiar. We all thought he was a pedophile, which was funny because, looking back on it, the guy hated kids. He would tell us to stay off his lawn, and he never passed out Halloween candy. But after I saw him, I just couldn’t get him out of my mind, so I knocked on his door.”
“What happened?” I asked, leaning forward.
“I thought it would be weird because I had no idea what I was doing there, but he knew right away. He said—” Raj switched into his Indian accent “—‘Rajesh Desai, you’ve finally come to see me.’”
Raj shifted back to his normal tone and continued, “He made us tea, and I sat there trying to find an excuse to leave, but he said the answer to my question before I could even form it in my head. ‘Yes, I’m gay,’ he said. ‘And so are you.’ I stayed there for two hours while he told me his life story. How he’d fallen in love with a man when he was younger, but they had so many issues. Whenever they went out, they had to pretend to be friends. They couldn’t go to certain places for fear of running into people. They couldn’t hold hands, let alone kiss or hug. His partner was out and living freely and resented Mr. Mukopadhyay for keeping their relationship a secret. Despite that, they lived together for twenty years, until his partner died of cancer. He told me that, in the end, he wasn’t even allowed in the room since the hospital said he wasn’t family. He couldn’t even properly grieve his lover’s death.”
We were all quiet for a minute, absorbing the sorrow of not being able to be with the person you loved when they needed you most.
“You know what he told me that really stuck?” Raj asked.
“What?” Rachael asked.
“He said I was lucky to live in this time, when a man could be free. I practically spat out my tea and told him that wasn’t the case, not when you’re Indian. He said he was too much of a coward to make it happen, but I was in a position to make the choice. That it wasn’t easy for the first gay men to come out, and because of my culture, it wouldn’t be easy for me. But if I didn’t want to end up a lonely old man who people regarded as a hermit or, worse, a pervert, that I’d better stop hiding and start living.”
“Wow, that’s some story,” Rachael said.
“Yeah, that’s when I decided. I’m not ready to come all the way out, but I will. I know that now. Before, the idea seemed so scary I would break into a sweat just thinking about it.”
“That’s too bad,” Rachael said.
“What is?” I asked.
“Raj is no longer a member of our little losers club. He’s a winner.”
“Raj, I’m so happy for you,” I stated.
“Thanks, Meena. I wish you guys would consider joining me.”
“And become gay? I don’t think it’s a club for just anyone,” Rachael said, laughing.
“Become free,” he said simply. “The three of us all have issues tying us down, whether they were self-imposed like you, Rachael, or part of our identity like Meena and I.”
“I had no idea you were such a philosopher,” Rachael replied dryly. “You’re like a regular Deepak Chopra.”
“We are free, Raj. Rachael will find someone, and she won’t make the same mistake again. And me, I’m getting married, so we’re going to be just fine.”
They both stared at me with sarcastic expressions. They never mentioned Ethan, and I never told them I loved him, but of course, I didn’t have to. They knew me like only close friends could, and I said, “Shut up and hand me the joint.”
Chapter 31
I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I was doing. It felt like my body was on some kind of autopilot. We’d said so many goodbyes, but I couldn’t let it end without at least fighting for her, for us, once more. Since we’d had our weekend together, I couldn’t even deflect my depression with drink or other women like before. I’d found myself at the Tiffany’s counter a few months after she left. I needed a new watch. The saleslady brought out a large assortment, but my eyes kept darting to the other items in the store.
Meena’s name meant precious stone in Hindi, and I found myself mesmerized by all the precious stones. I ended up buying a watch, but something else too. Something that weighed down one side of my jacket but was counterweighted by the item in my other pocket. They were very different, but each one powerful, and I had no idea which I would give her.
Meena’s house was a large Cape Cod that was cheerful and lit up. A valet driver parked my car. I walked in as if I were an invited guest. The house was large, but it felt claustrophobic with all the people. There were plates of food I recognized from when Meena cooked for me and some I did not. I grabbed a glass of champagne and swigged it for courage. Some people were in Indian dress while others wore western clothes. Many were speaking in what I imagined was Hindi, but there were many dialects so I wasn’t sure.
I heard snippets of a conversation as I made my way through the rooms, looking for her. Two older women were gossiping, but they were speaking loud enough that it was apparent they didn’t care who heard. “She gave her parents such a hard time. It is a miracle she found anyone at all. Girls today are so picky. Not like us.” It was funny to me. It sounded like they were talking about choosing a dress, not a life partner.
I saw Raj and Rachael first, sitting on a couch in the living room. I took a seat between them. Raj smiled knowingly like he’d figured I’d show up even though I hadn’t told him. Rachael gaped at me.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I guess I’m a glutton for punishment,” I said.
“How did you know?”
“I told him,” Raj interjected. “Maybe Meena needs her own catalyst.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but I didn’t care. My eyes darted around the room, searching for her among the sea of people.
“Ethan, she made her choice. Being here is just going to hurt her. She’s suffering enough.”
“I’m not here to hurt her, Rachael. Don’t you think it’s funny that she’s suffering at what should be a happy time for her?”
“Trust me; the irony isn’t lost on me. I rooted for you guys more than anyone, but Meena made up her mind, and you need to respect that.”
In many ways Rachael was right, but I wasn’t going to stan
d by and not see her once more. Maybe hold her again, or give her one of the items in my pocket. Not both, but one. Which one, I didn’t know. Before I could say anything, though, Rachael’s parents approached us.
“Ethan, you came to see Rachael. How sweet,” her mother said, making a move to hug me, which was very awkward since I was sitting and she was standing.
I stood up, and Rachael’s father slapped me on the back, much harder than I was expecting.
“I…ah…” Damn, why did we tell this lie again? I couldn’t remember.
“Come and meet Rachael’s brother, he’s…” Verna started scanning the crowd, but I felt a grip on my arm before she could find him.
“Right here. Kevin,” he said. He had a hefty build, spiky red hair, and a myriad of visible tattoos. “Come with me. I want to talk to you, man to man.”
I stared at Rachael, who shrugged her shoulders in a what-do-you-want-me-to-do gesture. I gritted my teeth.
“Rachael and I broke up,” I blurted.
He was looking at me like he wanted to pummel me. “Then why are you here?” Kevin asked.
Fuck, I know why I’m here, but there’s no way I’m going to tell this jerk. “I don’t know.”
“I know. He wants to get back together with Rachael,” Verna chirped.
“Well, then, we definitely need to talk, bro.” Kevin pulled me away, and I found myself following him. His parents followed us. I spent the next twenty minutes hearing about how special Rachael was from her mother while she accosted me with baby pictures and her brother cast stern glances in my direction. I mostly listened while they droned on about all things Rachael. I think I responded appropriately enough to satisfy them.
I somehow managed to escape them and found my way back to the couch where Raj and Rachael were perched. “What the fuck was that?”
“What?” Rachael asked innocently.
“Why the hell does your mom have so many naked baby pictures of you in her purse?”
“I was a cute baby.”
“I thought your brother was going to hit me. What’s his problem?”
“Be nice. He has issues,” Rachael said.
“Yeah, like dry skin, for one,” Raj muttered.
“What?” Rachael sighed. “I’ve been crying a lot. He thinks it’s your fault.”
“Rachael, it’s your own damn fault you’re crying.”
Of course, I knew about what happened. Alex had spent many long nights lamenting—bitching—about Rachael’s betrayal. In many ways, it was exactly what I had hoped wouldn’t happen. Right now, though, wasn’t the time.
“How is he, Ethan? He won’t talk to me.”
“Heartbroken, Rachael. He needs to heal, and you need to let him. I don’t know if he’ll forgive you, but you have to give him space.”
She laughed bitterly. “You’re such a hypocrite, you know that?” She was right, but she was wrong, too. I never cheated on Meena. She left me. I’d done nothing but give her space since.
“Look, you’re Meena’s friend so, for some reason, I feel an ounce of sympathy for you, but you hurt my best friend, and that’s never going to be okay in my book. It’s not just the cheating. It’s the shame.”
“What shame?” she demanded.
“You never told your parents about him. He feels you were ashamed.”
She shook her head. “He never told his parents either.”
I sighed, wanting to end the conversation. It was a huge detour in my true purpose here. “Yes, he did, Rachael. He told them.”
Rachael’s mouth dropped open in shock. It probably wasn’t the nicest thing for me to tell her. It was just rubbing salt in the wound, and this girl looked wounded enough.
“Did you think your parents wouldn’t accept him?” I asked. “Although we’re not real, they seemed to accept me, and I’m an atheist.”
“I guess they might have,” she said, staring at her hands folded in her lap.
“I sincerely hope you get the chance to find out one day. I really do, Rachael.”
I kept scanning the room for Meena, but I had the feeling she was in the room that had the most people and music flowing from it. I recognized the distinct sounds of the bhangra drums.
“What do we know about him?” I asked.
“Why are you torturing yourself, Ethan?”
I swallowed back my frustration. “Answer the question.”
“I’ll tell you,” Raj said. “Meena declined all eligible applicants. She had many suitors, but she always found something wrong with them.”
“So, why is he different?”
Rachael sighed and continued the story. “Meena’s parents got pretty frustrated and asked her what she was looking for specifically. She told them if they could find a man who was scientifically minded, tall, stylish, and with a sense of humor, she’d marry him. Oh, and he had to have blue eyes.”
“Blue eyes?”
“It’s a rare trait, but some Indians have them,” Raj explained.
I started laughing so hard, people turned in our direction.
“It’s not funny,” Rachael said.
“It’s pathetic. She asked for an Indian version of me.”
“Yes, I suppose she did, but guess what? He exists, and she’s marrying him, so you need to back off.”
That’s when I saw her, and my throat went dry. She was in a traditional Indian dress, a sari. It was brightly colored in vivid hues of aqua and pink patterned paisleys. Her bare stomach was framed by the silky material wrapped around her. She’d gained weight. She looked healthy. Hell, she looked happy.
Her hair was down, and the soft, luminous black waves fell against her shoulders. There was the smallest diamond chip in her nose, which only shined when she turned a certain way. It was really hot. My fingers twitched, watching her move across the room, greeting people. Then I saw him. Then they saw me.
Meena approached with hesitation. He was right on her heels, placing a hand on the small of her back. He was smiling widely, but she looked frightened, and I had a feeling her lower lip would have a mark on it from the way she was chewing on it.
“Ethan,” she said, but there wasn’t much I could say because he was there too. I suddenly felt the weight of what I was doing, and it was too heavy for my shoulders.
“Hi, I’m Prem.” He extended a hand.
“This is my boyfriend, Ethan,” Rachael said. Why are we still lying? I stiffened at the introduction, but I shook Prem’s hand. Some part of me wanted to meet him.
“Welcome,” he said.
I thought he’d walk away or Meena would, but they both stood there. He started chattering on, asking me questions. I answered, but I found I had some questions of my own. I wanted to hate this guy. I had planned on it. At least then I would have a face to focus all my anger on, because I had never been able to successfully target it on Meena and I never would. An elderly lady pulled Meena away. She was hesitant, but she left. I was glad in a way. I needed to interview Prem.
The more I spoke to him, the more I had to admit he was a good guy. He was extremely intelligent, and the way he spoke about Meena was respectful, almost reverent. He was a heart surgeon who volunteered for Doctors Without Borders. He also seemed to have that dry sense of humor that Meena appreciated. My sense of humor. Fuck, he even told me his name meant “love” in Hindi.
He wasn’t like the tool from Quebec. He seemed genuine and real. We were the same height and build too. We sipped champagne and talked for a long time, until I felt in my pocket, and knew for certain, which item I would give Meena tonight.
Raj found her for me and led her to the kitchen where I waited. “Hi, Sunshine,” I said, rubbing my neck sheepishly.
“Ethan, what do you want?” she asked, adjusting her hair and biting into that lip.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?”
She was silent for a minute, and I readied myself for her wrath, but instead she said, “If you go out this door to the backyard, there is a playground adjacent to our prop
erty. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
“See you in a few,” I said, exhaling. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath.
Meena
I looked ridiculous, trekking across the soggy yard, squishy from recent rains, holding up the hem of my sari and wearing galoshes. He sat on one of the swings. I took the swing next to him.
“You have a park behind your house too,” he said, breaking the silence.
“It’s a playground. Hardly a park. Vijay and I used to play here when we were little.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. It’s a very happy place for me.”
“Why didn’t you ever wear anything like this for me?” he asked, tugging the border of my sari.
“You like this?”
He smiled mischievously. “It’s turning me on something fierce.”
I laughed. “To be honest, I don’t even know how it’s staying on. It took three women to help me dress. For that matter, it has so many tucks and folds, I have no idea how to take it off.”
“I could have helped with that part,” Ethan said.
I shuffled my feet, moving my swing closer to his. “Why are you here?”
“Do you love him?” he asked with urgency, like our time was short, which it was.
“I hardly know him,” I said, looking away from his sharp gaze.
“Do you think you could love him?”
I shrugged. “Time will tell. He’s a good man.”
Ethan nodded as if agreeing with me. I knew he and Prem had talked for a while, and I had worried the whole time, wondering what they were conversing about.
“I don’t know if I should be the honorable man I want to be and tell you that I hope you fall in love with him, or be the selfish man I am and hope you never fall in love with him.”
“Ethan, you are anything but selfish.”
“This is so hard…to find the right words. They don’t exactly make greeting cards for this kind of thing.”
I smiled. “You don’t have to say anything. Just hold my hand for a minute.”
Variables of Love Page 27