Happiness Key (20 page)

“Nana?” Olivia pointed to the clock. “Daddy will be home before long.”

Alice got to her feet. “We… Lee’s coming back. Thank you for the pie.”

“Yes, thank you,” Olivia said.

“You think about those earrings,” Tracy said, walking them to the door and watching for a moment as the two, old and young, walked hand in hand back to Alice’s cottage.

“So what happens next?” Wanda got to her feet. “Besides me putting away what’s left of my pie so it don’t spoil. The way I make my crusts, that’s too likely.”

“What do you put in them?” Janya asked. “The crust was delicious.”

“My secret ingredient? Lard. Some butter, too, but lard’s the real deal. ’Course it’s harder to find these days…” She glanced at Janya, and she stopped.

Janya was staring. “What is lard?”

Wanda looked uncomfortable. “Just something I put in my pie crusts.”

Janya got to her feet. “What is it made from? Lard is animal fat?”

“I just used a little. I wasn’t thinking about that when you asked about meat, you know. I thought you meant the filling. I was thinking about the filling. All that pie had inside it was Jell-O and fruit…”

“Jell-O? Jell-O’s made from gelatin, which is an animal product, too.” Tracy had been around enough vegans in L.A. to know the rules. “Get real here.”

Janya jumped to her feet and headed for the bathroom, kicking the door closed behind her. The house was not big enough to hide the ensuing noises.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wanda told Tracy when it was clear the worst was over in the other room, and they could hear water running in the sink. “I wasn’t trying to poison the woman. And there’s nothing wrong with my crust. It’s all in her head.”

“It definitely was not in her
head.
That’s not where all that noise was coming from. And she asked you outright.”

“I just didn’t think about the crust! So sue me. Since when is it my job to kowtow to heathen vegetarians, anyway?”

The door opened and Janya stalked out. She went straight to Wanda.

“This
heathen
will no longer force her presence on you. Then you will not have to do this kowtowing, whatever it is. And you certainly will not be required to cook for me, since all foreigners are so foolish we dare to have preferences about what we eat, or who and how we worship.”

“Janya—” Tracy started, but Janya shook her head emphatically.

“I will remove myself from this house and Wanda’s life. I would go all the way back to India if I could, but since that is impossible, I suggest that you ignore me entirely and pretend my house has no one in residence.”

She was gone before Wanda could say another word in her own defense.

“Well, damn,” Wanda said, when the door closed behind Janya. “Was it something I said?”

“Oh, go home,” Tracy told her. “Titillate old men. At this rate, those are the only friends you’ll have left.”

Wanda sniffed and followed Janya’s path out the door.

Janya wasn’t certain why she was so unhappy about the way the evening at Herb’s cottage had ended. Hadn’t she known that Wanda felt superior to her? That every difference between them was magnified in the other woman’s mind, and Janya herself shrank in comparison? Wanda was like so many people everywhere. She knew and understood one way of conducting her life. Those who were not like her were simply wrong.

And yet Janya was hurt by the encounter. She didn’t think Wanda had set out to trick her. Wanda hadn’t set out to denigrate an ancient religion practiced by millions of people. But doing so, without setting out to, was even worse. Because this meant Wanda’s feelings were so deeply ingrained that they could never be changed and any appearance of friendship between them was only on the surface. Janya, who had begun to look forward to spending time with her neighbors, now wanted to shun all contact.

On Monday morning she didn’t take her usual walk,
afraid she might run into one of the others. She wouldn’t stay inside forever, of course, but she hoped that in a day or two her feelings wouldn’t be so raw. Instead, after the newly returned Rishi went to work, she busied herself mopping and dusting. Although Rishi never seemed to have much appetite for dinner, when she had finished cleaning she searched the cookbook of American favorites she had borrowed from the library and settled on a recipe for spaghetti sauce.

She wasn’t certain why spaghetti, which was obviously from Italy, was considered American in this book, but with a few changes to make it more palatable, she was determined to master it. She read the recipe again and made notes. There were far too many herbs and too few spices to suit her, and not enough vegetables. She had bought a perfect cauliflower at the supermarket, and a bag of yellow potatoes. She added these to the recipe, along with a mixture of mustard and cumin seeds, turmeric, cardamon and coriander. When that didn’t suit her, she ground cloves and added those, as well.

She decided to serve the sauce on rice. She was not so fond of pasta.

She was chopping the potatoes when somebody tapped on her door. She considered ignoring the summons, but respect won the day. She was relieved to see Olivia. She greeted her with a smile.

“So, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Nana’s taking a nap. I thought maybe we could make something.”

In the two weeks since Janya had pulled out her art supplies to entertain the girl, Olivia had become a regular visitor. Now that school was officially out for the summer, Janya thought she might be seeing more of her. It seemed a shame that the child had no one to play with here.

“Would you like to sketch?” Janya asked. “You are getting good with charcoal.”

“That would be fun.”

Janya was glad that this friendship, at least, was un-complicated. She and Olivia were both lonely, and they had found common ground. Certainly it was a shame the rest of the world couldn’t follow suit.

As Olivia’s visits had become more frequent, Janya had put together a plastic tub of supplies. Now she got it and brought it to the table. She had an assortment of charcoal and highlight pencils, different sizes, densities and weights, and she already knew Olivia liked to experiment. On one of her shopping trips with Rishi, she had bought cheaper sketch pads for practice. He had not chastised her for spending their money on a stranger’s child.

“It’s hot outside. Can we stay here?” Olivia asked.

“Let’s work at the kitchen table. You’ll not be in trouble for coming inside?”

“I’ll check on Nana in a little while.”

Janya wondered who was taking care of whom in Olivia’s household. She knew Olivia’s father must be gone, or the little girl wouldn’t be here.

“Would you like to work on your still life?” Last time Olivia had come, they’d set out a pitcher with dried flowers, a conch shell, and an open book with a wooden apple sitting on the pages. Janya had left the items in place.

“Will you show me how to blend the pencils again?”

They settled at the table. In the past, whenever Olivia bent her head, her hair would fall forward and cover her profile. With the new short haircut, this no longer happened. Her snub nose was perfectly evident, as was her cute little pointed chin.

“I think I’ll sketch you,” Janya said.

“No. Now I look like a boy.”

“No, you look like a beautiful little girl. Let me show you.”

“I don’t even want to look in the mirror. I hate brushing my teeth.”

Janya thought the worst of the adjustment must be over, because this morning Olivia sounded more matter-of-fact than sad. “Change can be hard. But you made a choice, and now you should enjoy what you can.”

“It was Daddy’s idea. He hates messy hair, and I get hot and sweaty.”

“Yes, that is a problem with long hair.”

“He made the lady cut it short because I was arguing.”

Janya wished they weren’t having this conversation. She had spent the morning trying not to be angry, and now she could feel anger simmering again.

“It was my fault,” Olivia said matter-of-factly. “Daddy doesn’t like arguments.”

“Many people do not,” Janya said.

“My grandmother argued with him, too. Daddy said I upset her, that I shouldn’t do that. I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m certain that wasn’t your intention.”

“She was more upset this morning.” Olivia looked up. “Do I use my finger to smear it? Or that cotton thing.”

“You can use your finger,” Janya told her. “Just lightly. Then let’s put in some more detail.” She waited until Olivia was finished blending some of her lines, then she began her own sketch. “Is Alice all right now?”

“No, her fish died.”

“Fish?”

Olivia looked up. “She has an aquarium. A big one with lots of fish. You have to come and see.”

Janya thought that was unlikely. “Fish must be difficult to take care of.”

“She had a big angelfish. She called him Michael, like some important angel in the Bible.”

“I’m sorry he died.”

“When she found him floating last night she took him out and flushed him down the toilet, only this morning she didn’t remember doing it. And Daddy saw her.” She looked up again. “He gets worried when she forgets.”

“Your father has a lot to think about.”

“I think that’s why he got mad about my hair, and you know… He has to take care of me, and of Nana, and my mommy is dead.”

Janya thought that was all probably true, but she wondered how often he said this to the child. To be fair, Janya knew she was not an expert in the way Americans reared children, but she did think, from what she had seen here, that girls Olivia’s age were usually allowed more freedom.

They sketched in silence. Olivia concentrated on every line, tongue clenched between her lips at the corner of her mouth. She showed natural talent and, more importantly, enjoyment in the process. Janya tried to capture this as she drew the girl’s expression.

“Can I see?” Olivia asked, when she realized that Janya really was drawing her.

Janya turned the sketch pad toward her.

“Am I really that pretty?”

“Charcoal can’t do justice to your lovely face.”

Olivia cocked her head. “Will you finish it for me? May I keep it?”

Janya smiled. “The drawing will be just for you.”

Wanda woke up with a headache, and it only got worse as Monday unfolded. By the time she finished her shift—
hot day and lousy tips—she felt like a piece of bait cast into the water one too many times.

The heat and tips were just part of it. She was getting tired of feeling ashamed of herself. Shame had its place, but hit a woman with an overload, and she sank lower than an earthworm. Wanda was going to be done with shame and turn herself right back into a shameless hussy. Just as soon as she told Janya Kapur she was sorry about the pie.

Who was she kidding? Truth be told, she was sorry about more than using lard and Jell-O. She’d thought Janya’s question was silly and hadn’t bothered to think it through. Just maybe she was the teeniest bit sorry for some other things she’d said and done, too.

She’d never thought she was prejudiced. She had preferences about things, but she hadn’t considered that maybe those attitudes made the strangers who came to these shores feel even more like strangers, made it even less likely they would care if they melted into the old melting pot.

All morning she’d remembered how she had felt as a teenager when her family moved into a nicer house in a different school district. Her mother had been so proud, but Wanda had spent the first months of the school year without friends. She hadn’t known anybody, and nobody made an effort to know her. The other girls made fun of her breasts, and the boys hooted whenever she walked by. She felt alone, and yes, alien. And after she finally began to fit in, she’d always made a point of befriending new girls, so nobody else had to go through exactly what she had.

It was funny, how those lessons just got trampled all over when the new girl had a name that wasn’t easy to pronounce, had darker skin, or worshiped differently.
Wanda had a bad feeling the God
she
worshiped was not all that pleased with her today. She was back to making amends. If there was a group called Foot in the Mouth Anonymous, she would have to start attending meetings.

At home after a shower and a slice of the infamous grapefruit pie, she was ready to put things behind her. If she felt this bad, Janya must feel a whole lot worse. And Wanda had realized during a long, sleepless night that she liked Janya Kapur and didn’t want to lose her friendship. Or Tracy’s, for that matter, although she was still waiting to see if that Handy Hubby fellow showed up today for one last session.

She looked around for something to take to Janya’s house, some sort of peace offering. The woman liked plants, but none of Wanda’s had ever seen dirt, unless she counted dust. She remembered that she’d bought a handful of new magazines the last time she’d gone to the grocery store, and she hadn’t even opened them yet.

“Lordy, the things I make myself do.” Wanda tucked the magazines under her arm and started down the street. Janya was coming out of her house. The other woman froze, which was a little better than running back inside and slamming the door.

Wanda reached her before Janya recovered and did just that.

“I came to speak my piece,” Wanda said, “and apologize for last night.”

Janya didn’t respond. Wanda could tell she didn’t know what to say.

“So here’s what I’m sorry for. I’m sorry I didn’t think about the lard. But honest, I never thought about what Jell-O was, so I’m kind of blameless there. Who knew it was from cows? Anyway, I didn’t pay enough attention. I didn’t really think hard enough when you asked me.”

Janya nodded. Wanda could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

“And I guess that’s not all I’m sorry for,” Wanda went on. “I’m sorry for things I’ve said. I keep pointing out that you’re not just like me, only sometimes, you know, that can be a good thing. Because I don’t like everything about myself. So maybe you’re different from the parts of me I don’t like. Does that make sense?”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t even go to church anymore. So if you’re worshiping a bunch of gods, that’s a bunch more than I’m worshiping. So that could be good.”

“I see.”

“And being a vegetarian, that’s got to be good for your blood pressure. Mine’s creeping up there. It’s all that pie, more than likely. Could even be the lard in the crust, so I’m going to find me a different recipe, one you can eat.” She turned up her hands. “So see what I’m saying?”

“You are saying that you made a mistake judging me, when maybe there is some value in who I am.”

“I’d go so far as to say a whole lot of value. But there’s not much value in ragging on people just because they’re different. I think maybe Florida’s changing too fast for some of us to keep up. Maybe it scares us a little, too. We don’t know how to act.” She held out the magazines. “Anyway, these are for you. I thought you might like them.”

“That is very kind.” Janya took them, reading the names out loud. “‘
People
.’ ‘
Us
.’
‘Soap Opera Digest
.’” She glanced up and smiled just a little. “Now I’ll
certainly
know more about your culture. Thank you.”

Wanda relaxed. “Well, don’t let me keep you from your walk.”

“I was walking to the bus stop. I must do shopping before dinner.”

“You only have one car, don’t you?”

“One is all we need. I never learned to drive.”

“Don’t women drive in India?”

“In India we say that to drive, all one must have is a good right foot, a good horn and good luck. I was never certain I had the third.”

“Dade County’s a mess, but it’s not bad here. You could learn.”

“Rishi is too busy to teach me.”

Wanda saw how she could really make amends. “I taught my son to drive, and I taught my daughter. I can teach you.”

Janya started to say something, but she stopped herself. Finally she smiled a little. “This will help you, I think. Teaching me.”

“Darn straight. If I was a Catholic, I could pull out my rosary and get this apology thing over with quicker, but I’m a Southern Baptist, so this will have to do. Will your husband let you use your car?”

Janya nodded. “Rishi has suggested a driving school. I didn’t want to waste our money, in case I am very bad.”

“If you wait just a minute, I’ll take you over to the grocery store. I need a few things myself. Then, on the way back, we’ll swing by the DMV and see what they require these days to get you started.”

“You have the time?”

“I’m not just doing this because I’m sorry. I figure we can be friends, if we work at it.”

“This is something you want?”

Wanda met her eyes. “This is something I want.”

By the time Wanda dropped Janya off at her house, Janya knew the other woman would be a good driving
teacher. She had pointed out road signs, explained rules and driving etiquette. Now Janya had to take an online course and study her driver’s handbook, so she could take a test and get her learner’s license. As she expected, there would be red tape, too, since she was not yet an American citizen. But everything could be accomplished.