Happiness Key (28 page)

Tracy came to stand beside her. She stared at the portrait for a full minute before she spoke.

“Your cousin, right?”

“How can you tell? We look nothing alike.”

“Which, I’m sure, makes her very unhappy. She’s not half as pretty as you are. And everything you said about her is right there to see. It’s amazing. I want to punch her in the nose, and I wouldn’t know why if I hadn’t heard your story. I’d do it for no good reason.”

Janya began to clean up. “Painting this made me feel better. I haven’t painted in a very long time. I had no heart for it.”

“Janya, have you ever thought of painting on a larger canvas?”

“I’m afraid if I painted a larger likeness of Padmini, she would leap out and strangle us.”

“I mean a really, really big canvas. You know, like a wall?”

“A wall? You want a mural in your house to match your new tile?”

“No, I want a mural on the wall beside the shuffleboard courts at the rec center. And I want you to teach the kids to paint it and supervise the process. And—” she hurried through the next part, as if she was afraid Janya was going to refuse “—I’ll pay you. You’ll be the new arts-and-crafts teacher. And all the children will love you.”

“Me? Teach? What would I know about that?”

“You’re wonderful with Olivia. She told me today that you’ve been working on projects with her. And this is a fantastic opportunity. The wall definitely needs help. There’s going to be a big tournament, and everybody who comes will see what you’ve done. Please say yes.”

“What kind of mural?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something you and the kids come up with together. But Lee showed up today, and he was furious. It’s safe to say Alice won’t be back tomorrow to teach, and I’m in a pickle. Gladys can crochet a little, and she’s going to help the kids work on the crochet projects they started. But all of them are going to be so disappointed it ended like that. Next week we have to do something big and fun and exciting, or they’re going to mutiny.”

“Not all children like to paint.”

“Are you kidding me? The side of a building? We’ll have a table set up with craft supplies for the ones who don’t want to. But what kid doesn’t want to splash paint around and call it art? Supervised graffiti. It’ll be fabulous.”

She looked so expectant, so eager. Tracy had a strong will, but Janya couldn’t let her friend determine how she should spend her time.

“You’d be great,” Tracy wheedled.

“You are good at asking people to do things.”

“I know, and they pay me to do it.”

Janya tried, but she couldn’t think of one good reason to say no. And the fact that it would help Tracy was the best reason to say yes.

“I will try,” she said.

Tracy threw her arms around her and hugged her hard, nearly knocking the breath out of Janya, who was not used to these extravagant displays of emotion.

“You saved my life!”

“The least I could do for a friend.”

“You know, you’re just bone-deep nice.”

“And that’s what got me in trouble in India.”

Tracy stepped away, but she was smiling. “Yes, but
look, it brought you here. And nobody could be more grateful than me.”

“Then I can be glad some good has come from it.”

Tracy sobered a bit. “I hope in the long run you’ll have a lot more to be glad about than helping a new friend. Fingers crossed there will be a whole lot more to your move to Florida than that.”

“Will you be able to say the same?”

Tracy appeared to consider. “I have no idea,” she said at last. “But at least the trip is turning out to be interesting.”

As a teenager, Tracy had appreciated her expensive private school because of the contacts she made. In fact her introduction to CJ had come from a friend in her high school English class. Five years after graduation, Tracy had been a bridesmaid at that friend’s Beverly Hills Hotel wedding, and later a guest at her first anniversary party. CJ had come alone to the party and departed with Tracy on his arm.

She really couldn’t hold CJ against the school. These days, she even appreciated the excellent education they had tried to give her. For instance, had she not been forced to read Mark Twain, would she have learned about Tom Sawyer?

Now she put a finger to the side of her cheek, as if considering what to do next. “I don’t know, Bay. You’re kind of short for this job. And it’s a cooperation kind of thing.” Tracy stared at the wide expanse of wall that needed a base coat of white paint to ready it for the mural.

Bay got between her and the wall, so she would have
to look at him. “I’m not
that
short. I can use that stick with the roller, like the other kids.”

“You probably could manage the roller. But there’s that little cooperation thing. They’re all taking turns. How good are you at that?”

“How would I know?”

“Well, I hate to experiment with something so new to you. I mean, what if you get all grabby and whiney on me? Do I have time for that?”

“What do I have to do?”

“You have to promise you’ll share.”

“I don’t like to.”

Tracy lifted a brow as if to say, so forget it, kid. Bay looked torn; then he shrugged. “But I will.”

“Then you can be in the third group. The one Olivia’s in.”

He brightened. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed that Bay liked to be around Olivia. But who didn’t? She was mature beyond her years, and careful never to give offense or hurt anybody’s feelings.

In fact, in Tracy’s opinion, Olivia was too careful, as if consequences worried her more than they ought to. Tracy wondered what effect this might have on the girl when she got older. What would she go along with just to smooth the waters? How would she stand up for herself?

The shuffleboard courts were hopping this morning, and Tracy had cautioned the kids that under no circumstances, none,
nada,
were they to go anywhere near the players. Nor, on pain of something or other, were they to splatter paint in that vicinity. The Palmetto Grove Shuffleboard Club was practicing, and would continue to practice on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings until the tournament in August. She had carefully nego
tiated the times, so that once the real painting of the mural began, the club would be finished for the day. But today, as they painted the first of two prep coats, there was overlap.

She was supervising group two, making sure they got paint into every crevice on their section, when Mr. Mustache came to stand beside her.

“I promise, we won’t be painting during practice after today,” Tracy said, after a glance to see who was there. “We just want to get this coat finished early, so it’ll have time to dry before we do the second this afternoon. Then we’ll keep the paint far away from your teams and the courts.”

“What’s going to be up here when they’ve finished?”

She tried to judge the timbre of his voice. Would it really be worse to work at the yacht club? Would anybody there be more difficult?

She glanced at him again. “I honestly can’t say. We’re leaving that up to the art teacher and the kids. But the art teacher’s wonderful.” Tracy realized she was basing an awful lot on one painting of Janya’s.

“You ever been to Palatka?”

“Where?”

He snorted. “Northeast of here. Directly south of Jacksonville. They have a bunch of murals all over that town. Local seniors went on a bus tour to see them. You never heard of Palatka for a good reason, but after you saw those murals? You’d never forget it again. Told the whole history of the area.”

“That’s ambitious.” Tracy hoped she could survive just one. “Since you’re the resident expert, what should we start with here?”

“Well, considering it’s a rec center, maybe something about recreation in Sun County.”

“I’ll tell Janya. It’s a good idea.”

He snorted again. She was beginning to worry about his sinuses. “Brighten this corner of the world a little,” he said. “It needs it.”

Now she wondered about her hearing. “You like the idea?”

“You sure do jump to conclusions about everything, don’t you?”

“I’m working on that.”

“I can tell.” She expected him to leave, but he stayed beside her. “I thought of something Herb told me.”

She was surprised by this piece of late-breaking news. “Really? I’ve learned he had a daughter, but I’m not much closer to finding her.”

“Sometimes people don’t want to be found.”

“I wonder about that. But he died on my watch, in my house, and I can’t just ignore that.”

“I’d tell you more if I knew more. Herb was the most private old cuss I ever met.”

She could have enlightened Mr. M. about a number of things pertaining to Herb, but those were secrets she was going to keep in the old man’s honor.

She instructed one of the kids to be careful and signaled a counselor to move in closer. Then she turned back to her new informant.

“Anyway,” he went on, “he told us once that when he was a young man, he used to tend bar at a place called Gaspa-rilla’s, up north in Cargo Beach. Said in those days it was almost like home.”

Tracy had hoped for something like “Herb kept all his important papers in a safety deposit box and left me the key.”

“Hmmm…Gasparilla’s. I wonder if it’s still there?”
Although even if it was, who would still be alive to remember Herb? Or maybe…Clyde?

“Couldn’t say. I came to Florida to retire. By then my drinking days were long over.”

“I appreciate your telling me.”

“You make sure these kids paint something bright. Knock a few socks off, while you’re at it.”

With the sense that she had passed some unwritten test, Tracy watched him head back to the courts. The musical ring of colliding discs and children shouting in the pool was a happy summer soundtrack.

Driving lessons were progressing. Janya was gaining considerable confidence. Today somebody honked—not at her, but at a pesky flock of seagulls—and she didn’t even flinch. She was almost driving the speed limit, which meant she was still going at least fifteen miles an hour slower than anyone else, but she no longer stood out. She had crossed bridges, driven on the interstate and pulled into many parking spaces.

She still had more to learn. Parallel parking sounded impossible. But she was determined she would learn, and soon. She wanted her license and the freedom that would come with it. Rishi was already talking about finding her a little car all her own. And she had finally agreed to drive with him, to give Wanda a rest. He had turned out to be attentive, patient and flattering. This attractive husband of hers, with the character in his face.

She wondered what Alice would have thought of Darshan.

On Monday afternoon she was contemplating that as she prepared supper, a dish called red beans and rice from a new library cookbook, when she heard a knock. She had changed the spices to different ones she liked better, and
left out the sausage, along with something called ham hocks, which she didn’t want to think about. The only thing she had left alone was the rice, because it was the reason she’d chosen the dish. She had made many portions, so if she was late getting home from the rec center, there would be food in the refrigerator. She hoped it was good. It certainly was plentiful.

She still had a wooden spoon in her hand when she found Olivia on her stoop. She smiled at her young friend and gestured her in, quickly closing the door to keep it cool inside. “Does Alice know you’re here?”

“My father took her to the doctor. Nana wanted me to go, but I told them I would be okay by myself.”

But she hadn’t been. Janya could see that. Olivia wasn’t a confident child. She was afraid of the water, did not like the wind, and was often worried about Alice’s health. If she had friends, they were never invited to the cottage. Janya was surprised her father had allowed Olivia to attend the rec center program, and she suspected Lee had done it purely to distract Tracy the night Alice had invited the neighbors for dessert.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Janya told her. “Have you heard that I will be supervising the painting of the mural at the rec center? Perhaps you have a little time to sketch out ideas.”

“I don’t even really know what a mural is. Just, like, a big painting?”

“That’s exactly right, and who better to think of ideas?”

“We painted the wall today. Twice. It’s all ready. How will we start?”

“I think tomorrow we will talk about what we would like to see there, then perhaps ask all the children to sketch. We don’t have a lot of time to do it, so we will
have to move faster than I like. But I think we can make it happen.”

“I’m so glad you’ll be there every day.” Olivia’s wide smile said she meant it. “I don’t know why Nana couldn’t stay and teach crocheting, too. I would like you both to be there. Tracy’s already there every day.”

Janya knew better than to discuss the reasons why Alice was no longer teaching. To her, this was just more evidence that Olivia’s father was a tyrant.

“So now the wall is ready,” Janya said. “Did you have fun painting it?”

“I like to paint. Mommy and I were going to paint my new room before she died. She let me choose the color. I chose turquoise.”

“Like the color in here?”

“Lighter. And I was going to have pink curtains.” Olivia stopped. She no longer looked confident. “Janya, I…”

Janya waited, even though she was afraid the beans might burn. “Something is the matter?”

“The house. Where we were supposed to move. It was a secret. Mommy found the house, and she said when she saw it she knew it would be perfect for us. It was pretty far from here. I would have to change schools, but I didn’t care. She only told me because we had to paint before we could move in. She said we would surprise Daddy, and I wasn’t supposed to tell him or the surprise would be spoiled. It was our secret.”

“I see.” But she didn’t.

“Then she died. I don’t know what happened to the house. I was afraid to ask Daddy. I don’t think Mommy had told him yet, and then he would feel worse that we couldn’t move in there, the way Mommy wanted.”

Janya could not imagine a situation in which a woman
would buy or rent a house and
not
tell her husband. Everyone liked surprises. But a house? Far from Palmetto Grove?

“It had four whole bedrooms, one for everybody,” Olivia said wistfully. “Mommy was going to use the last one as an office. Someday she was going to start a business all by herself.”

“You must miss her very much.”

“Sometimes I worry it was my fault she died. When Mommy and Daddy fought, I wished I could make the fights stop. And now they have. Forever.”

Janya rested her hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “You never wished your mother would die, Olivia. And even if you did, just because you were angry at that moment, it’s okay. No one can make things happen just by wishing. If we could, the world would be a terrible place.”

“Do you think so?”

“I have often wished my house would clean itself and my dinner would cook itself, and neither one has ever happened.” Janya had also wished that Darshan would choose to marry her, despite the scandal, but that hadn’t come to pass, either.

“Do you and Mr. Kapur fight?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. She and Rishi didn’t fight because they rarely saw each other. In their case, this was not a good thing.

She tried to explain. “Many people in love fight. It can be difficult to live together.” She hesitated; then she added as casually as she could, “But it is never good to hit another person.”

“I’m glad Daddy didn’t hit Mommy.”

Janya was relieved. “Why don’t I get some paper and pens? Then you can sketch while I make dinner. We can think of ideas for tomorrow.”

“I like coming here.”

Janya leaned over and ruffled her hair. “I’m glad you do.”

Rishi came home earlier than usual, and Janya was still trying to make the red beans and rice delicious. As with many of the American recipes she had tried, it would not cooperate.

She reached around to turn off the CD player, which had been loudly trumpeting some of her favorite songs. “I do not understand American cooking,” she said. “I can’t believe Americans prefer these dishes.”

Rishi came to stand beside her and peered into the pot. “And what is that?”

“I got a new cookbook at the library this week.
American Cajun Cuisine
. Very American, so you will probably like it. It’s called red beans and rice.”

“Someday I’ll take you to New Orleans. The food is wonderful. All of it’s good.”

“Well, there are many recipes here for things I will never cook or eat.”

“Red beans and rice is served in Louisiana the way we serve dal and rice in India. Only I’ve never smelled any quite like this.”

“The recipe was not good as it was.”

“You tried it as it was?”

Janya put down her spoon and frowned at the pot, hoping to figure out what was lacking. “It would have had no flavor.”

“That’s not usually a problem with Cajun food.”

She glanced at him. “Well, perhaps this cookbook is at fault.”

He looked away, as if something outside had captured
his attention, and he cleared his throat. “That must certainly be it.”

Rishi left to change clothes, and she added what she hoped would be the final touches to the beans. They met to say prayers; then Rishi helped her set the table. Janya went to get the food, but Rishi put his hand on her arm.

“Such a beautiful table needs beautiful flowers, Janya.”

There were no flowers in the house, and none growing outdoors. The plants she and Tracy had salvaged were catching their breath on the patio, resting after the assault against them. But none of them were blooming now, as if that was one thing too many to expect.