Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace) (21 page)

The house filled with the fragrance of incense, something that had once been inviting and soothing but was now a stench to my nostrils.

The priest motioned us over. I groaned and took a seat beside Papa, our backs to the room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that everyone sat behind us to participate, Manuk right behind me, and poor Ty was propped against the hallway entrance, alone and distant.

We prayed, chanted, and gave an offering to both appease the gods and pacify our pain. It didn’t work. Years of repetition allowed me to move my lips and hands without thinking. My thoughts fixated on the pain.

Afterward, I guarded Papa. “Do you want them to leave?”

“No.”

“Not even the
fois
?”

He patted my arm. “Better to have the conversation and noise. What about you?”

“I don’t want to see them. They should leave.”

“That helps you?”

“I can leave if you want them to stay.”

He skimmed over the room. Many friends had arrived with food and condolences, enough to push out the unwanted ones, namely Papa’s family. I made my rounds. One by one, I spoke to each
foi
and
fua
, “You can leave now.”

They didn’t argue.

“Priya, your dad invited me and my parents to spend the night,” Manuk said.

“He’s invited everyone.”

“You’ve started kicking some people out.”

“How did you know?”

“Your
fois
complained to my mom.”

I muttered beneath my breath. The veins in my forehead were about to burst.

“I put a stop to that immediately. No one has a right to say a thing against you, especially right now.”

“Thanks.”

“Which room can we take?”

“It’s okay for you guys to leave. It’s late, so we understand if you need to.”

“It’s not a problem to stay. I can cancel my patients tomorrow.”

“It’s better for you to leave.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. Thanks for everything, but I need to be alone. All these people, giving them my attention, is exhausting.”

“I understand. We’ll get going, then.”

“Thanks again for everything.”

He lifted his arms to hug me, but I stepped back, walked away, and thanked his parents. Once they left, I mindlessly thanked everyone who came. Only a handful of Papa’s friends stayed.

Hugging Papa, I muttered, “I’m going to sleep. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?”

“You sleep. Company makes me feel better. We’re remembering good times.”

“Okay.” I walked through the hall and glanced over my shoulder at Ty, who made subtle movements to follow.

The covers were cool as I climbed beneath them on my old bed. The room was nice and dark. The conversations were muffled below. I found some sort of peace here.

Ty knocked on the door before he walked in, closed the door behind him, and placed my backpack on the floor. He crawled over me, crawled under the covers, and held me. Without a word, we fell asleep.

Chapter Thirty

Tyler

Birds chirped as soon as the sun came up. A warm, pale glow entered through closed blinds. I hadn’t slept much, only dozed off and on. The faint conversations below were white noise broken by closing doors all night. I half expected someone to knock on the bedroom door and catch us spooning. As if we were doing something wrong.

I didn’t want to hide my relationship with Pree, but she was in too much of a fragile position for me to go all caveman on the dentist. It hurt. Badly. I didn’t understand why she had never told the dentist the engagement was off. But my pain was nothing compared to what Pree was going through right now. I remembered when Mom had died. I had grieved a long time and regretted a lot of things, and I hadn’t been nearly as close to her as Pree had been with her mom.

Despite having to take a backseat in the foreign ways of Pree’s family, I was content enough that she let me sleep with her. Everything about yesterday was a ripple effect of stabs and agony from the moment Pree had taken that phone call. She’d scared the crap out of me. For a second in the hospital hallway, I’d thought I’d lost her.

When she called me to her room, I had some confidence that she wouldn’t leave me. She just needed time to mourn without the added drama of our relationship, something I’d thought her family and the dentist were clear on. Apparently not.

I silenced a pissed-off groan. This wasn’t the time to wallow in misery and anger.

Pree was warm against me, and by the sound of her snoring, she was sleeping heavily. Who knew snoring could be such a comforting sound?

Then she shifted, yawned, and stretched against me before turning onto her back.

I asked, “How are you?”

“Sick, tired, depressed.”

Her words and the sound of her downtrodden voice sliced right through me. “Does ice cream help? Chocolate?”

“Fattening me up?”

“We can run it off at the lake.” I was desperate to help her.

“Sounds like a good idea, but alone.”

I pushed myself up to look down at her and stroked her belly. “You want me to leave?”

“You have work tomorrow.”

“Screw work. They’ll survive a few days without me.”

“I need to be alone.”

“You’ll spiral into depression.”

“I’m already depressed.”

“Which is more reason not to be alone. You have to keep your chin up, be around people who make you happy.”

She rolled onto her side facing away from me, but I pulled her back. “Pree, don’t shut me out. Please. Tell me what I can do.”

“Just leave.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head away, pushing me further toward the brink of worthlessness.

That tiny lock that kept my emotions in check snapped. She was pushing me away when I already felt useless and worst of all, like I was nothing more than her dirty secret. And it scared the hell out of me.

Irate with the dentist still being in the picture and Pree’s dismissal of our relationship, I crawled out of bed. She didn’t move or say anything.

Fuming that she didn’t want to lean on me or have me here during her most vulnerable state, I snatched my keys off the dresser. She didn’t even look at me. She wasn’t going to change her mind.

She let
him
do everything for her without even correcting his assumption about their engagement. She let
him
take care of her. She’d just lost the most important woman in her life, and she tossed me, tossed
us
, out onto the curb.

“Are you sure?” I gave her one last chance.

She didn’t even respond.

Grabbing the doorknob, I growled, “Fine. The
dentist
is here for you, anyway.”

And I left, giving Pree exactly what she wanted.

Chapter Thirty-One

Priya

I didn’t know how to comfort Papa. He didn’t speak much to me, though he carried on full, emotionally controlled conversations with others. It wasn’t yet the time to ask if we could be close again, if he forgave me for my decision that had ultimately killed Mummie. His eyes hinted that I had everything to do with her death. The worst part? I believed it myself.

Papa was happier seeking the company of his friends and spending most of his days in persistent prayer at
mandir
. I barely scraped by, ignoring messages and running at the lake. I didn’t talk to or text anyone. Hunger and thirst didn’t affect me, but sleep came often. Sleep proved to be the only escape, and I spent most of my time in bed.

Ty didn’t text until Thursday.

Ty:
I’m sorry about how I left.

I didn’t respond. He had every right to hate me, too, but I couldn’t deal with him.

Ty:
I’d like to attend the funeral, be there for you and your dad. Is that okay?

Priya:
It’s tomorrow at 3.

Ty:
I’ll be there. Can I hug you?

Priya:
No. I might lose it.

Ty:
Okay.

And I might hate myself even more. I hated that I wanted him, that I still chose to be with him. Mummie had made me promise to marry Manuk, and promises were sacred, especially deathbed promises.

“Papa?” I snuck into the living room where he flipped through photo albums.

“
Beti
.” He half smiled and patted the seat beside him.

Relieved, I plopped down at his side, rested my head on his shoulder, and looked at pictures. He explained each one. Mummie in her wedding sari. Mummie when she was pregnant at the park. Mummie when she took me to school on the first day of pre-K. Mummie. Mummie. Mummie.

“Is this my fault?” I had to know. Even pushing the words out made me tremble.

Papa didn’t answer.

“Do you still hate me?” My voice cracked.

“I’m still mad, but I can’t hate you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, too.” I stifled a sob.

“You won’t.” He draped an arm around me and we went through more pictures.

…

Even walking into the viewing room, Ty was a blatant inconsistency. He wore a nice black suit with a black shirt and a black tie. Oh, yeah, I had forgotten to tell him we wore white at our funerals, but that was okay. He didn’t seem to care that he stuck out. Plus, he wasn’t Indian, so no one else cared, either.

The men, in white
kurta pajamas
, sat on the right side. Ty found a seat two rows behind Papa. The
fuas
sat next to Papa, then Manuk and his father. I sat across the aisle from Papa, feeling hardened and numb at the same time, alone in a room full of familiar faces. I sure as hell didn’t let the
fois
sit next to me, much less in the front row. Vicki sat beside me, Tulsi and Jeeta, and then the
fois
. Mummie’s family was in India. Papa would send her ashes to them later.

Most of the women, like me, wore white saris. Younger girls wore a white
salwar kameez
or white shirts and jeans. No one wore cologne, perfume, hair products, makeup, or jewelry. We were bare in our grieving.

Thank God for Vicki, who held my hand the entire time. Without her, I would’ve lost it again. I tried to be strong for Mummie’s memory, her devout faith, and for Papa.

The priest chanted up front. Everyone around me chanted with him, but my lips were too numb to move. In fact, I questioned religion and God altogether. What did paying a priest for these death rites, chanting, and praying really do?

He invited me and Papa to the front. Mummie, beautiful and pale, lay in a cardboard coffin. She wore white, pure and clean. Her long, ebony hair streaked with gray turned red from henna was braided, set over one shoulder so that it lay nestled between her body and her arm.

The priest poured a few drops of holy water onto the spoon Papa held. He walked around Mummie’s body three times before drawing the spoon to her lips. Her lips wouldn’t drink, so the water slid down her cheek. I repeated the action, not really knowing what this symbolized.

The viewing wasn’t really a viewing. It was part of a death ritual. People didn’t approach Mummie, gaze upon her face, and give farewells. After my small part, pulling away from Mummie took a lot of effort. When my legs prevailed, I returned to the seat next to Vicki and offered weak smiles to everyone who spoke to me. Why should I have to smile? I should not be obligated to cater to anyone right now.

Everyone filed out as workers closed Mummie’s coffin with a cardboard lid and took her to the cremation room located deeper in the memorial park. Austin was experiencing another thunderstorm outside. Rain pellets doused the coffin as the men hurried into the small building. Thunder rocked the skies, set off car alarms, and lightning lit up the cemetery.

Most people in attendance left at that point, emptying the parking lot. Only family huddled next to me and Papa in the cremation room as the conveyor belt rolled Mummie through the furnace. I tried to harden myself, but when Papa jerked beside me, I cried. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep my sobs quiet. My body shook as I struggled to catch my breath. Papa took my free hand, his warm and calloused. Tears slid down his face. His lips quivered.

An entire body entered at one end and a heap of ashes emerged at the opposite end. Those ashes, enough to fit in my hands, were all that remained of Mummie. She was truly gone, never to return, never to laugh at me, never to surprise me with childhood treats from India, never to go to pedicures with me, and would never see me grow old.

The assistant dusted the ashes into a small cardboard box when they cooled, wrapped it in paper, and stuck it inside a plastic bag. Papa placed it in a small carry bag and zipped it closed.

Family walked out first. Papa said to me, “We’ll eat at the house.”

“I’ll see you there later.”

He left.

I waited for a while longer, until the assistant gave me a look that said I was outstaying my welcome, but he wouldn’t ask me to leave.

I walked out into the storm. Sheets of rain made everything obscure. The parking lot had emptied, all except Ty’s car. Maybe he waited in the viewing room?

Cemeteries were beautiful, for some reason. They obviously kept the dead, buried the sadness that went with losing loved ones, but gothic beauty appealed to me. Tall, haunting trees protected the property. Old, weatherworn tombstones marked graves. A few flowers washed away in the downpour.

Rain drenched my clothes within seconds, but I walked around anyway. My white sari became see-through to the white cotton skirt and white bodice beneath. The wet fabric clung to me. My saturated hair stuck to my shoulders and back.

I lowered myself onto a bench beneath a tree and stared at the newer grave markers, the metal, flat ones that lay over the graves instead of standing upright. Shivers raced up and down my body in waves. Lightning struck and twenty seconds later, thunder rumbled. But thankfully, there was no hail, because Texas hail was the size of golf balls that dented cars, set off alarms, and hurt if they made contact.

Ty appeared in the distance and quickly approached as a dark blur. He slipped off his jacket and came to a slow stop, draping it around me. Keeping a hold around my shoulders, he pulled me up.

I pressed a hand against his soggy clothes. “Ty, you’re going to ruin your nice suit.”

“Forget the damn suit. Can I hug you now?”

I raised my arms around his neck. He held me tight, and that’s all I wanted. He smelled like his usual self, soap and shampoo and deodorant drenched in rain. I inhaled his scent as if it were the air I needed to live. His hands and body heat warmed me, chased off the shivers.

We held each other for a long time. Now would’ve been a decent time to let him go, tell him about my promises, and end it here, but I was selfish and I needed Ty to make me forget.

“Let’s get you out of the cold before you get sick.”

He took my hand, led me out, and drove to Papa’s house where we waited across the street. Cars cluttered the driveway and all up and down the street.

“See you in Houston,” I muttered before he asked to come inside or to sleep over. “Vicki and the girls are spending the night. Some girl time will help.”

“Okay.” He kissed my cheek, defeated. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists. Without looking at me, he asked, “You’re coming back to me, right?”

I swallowed. How could I lie?

His features morphed from anxious to upset. His nostrils flared, his lips pressed tight, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. It was his war face, the one he had when he was angry and hurt at the same time and didn’t know how to deal with it.

I kissed him on the cheek and he relaxed a little. “See you at home.”

From the hallway, Manuk saw me enter the house first, my arms crossed over my indecent chest. “God’s sake! You’re soaked.”

“
Shh!
Don’t draw attention. I’m not fit for people to see me like this. I’m going to take a shower.”

I dragged my backpack from my room into the bathroom and turned on steamy water. I peeled off the sari and stuffed everything into a plastic bag. The sari had to be hand washed and air dried.

Hot water cascading over my chilled flesh felt
so
good. After a quick wash to warm up, I sat down, pulled my knees to my chest, and stared at the tiles ahead as water showered over my head.

Manuk knocked. “Are you okay in there?”

I growled. “Please leave me alone.”

He didn’t respond. I dried off, dressed, and blow-dried my hair, which seemed to take as long as the shower. I crawled into bed, curled up, and closed my eyes.

A knock. I swore to God if it were Manuk, I’d kill him.

“
Beti
?” Papa came in and sat down beside me. “Won’t you eat?”

“I’m not hungry. Did you eat?”

“Yes. Come make an appearance.”

“Everyone knows I’m here. There’s nothing to say to them that hasn’t been said already.”

Silence.

“Want me to tell everyone to leave? There’s like fifty people downstairs. It’s too much,” I said.

“I already told them I’m tired. Most are leaving now. Come say good-bye.”

“I’m too tired.”

“Okay.” He patted my head and stood.

“Papa?”

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

He smiled and closed the door. I regretted never telling Mummie I loved her. Papa would hear it many times from now on.

About ten minutes later, the girls let themselves into my room. Vicki crawled over me and sat against the wall. Tulsi lay next to us. Jeeta sat at the foot of the bed.

Tulsi broke the silence. “You walked in here like a Bollywood sex goddess, all hawt and wet in a white sari. Damn, girl.”

“Shut up.” I playfully shoved her.

Jeeta’s eyes widened. “Manuk didn’t try to attack you?”

I groaned. “Don’t mention him. Did he leave?”

“Yes. Didn’t he say good-bye?”

“Maybe he tried to. He needs to put some space between us. Vickiben, how’s the wedding plans?”

Vicki shrugged. “Fine.”

“Come on. I want to know. Tell me all the details. To get my mind off things.”

She hesitated.

“Please?”

She dished about Raj and the meetings between their families, and setting a wedding day. Tulsi complained about her parents trying to set her up. Jeeta sighed because an old friend from India had contacted her. Everyone stared at her.

“Do tell,” Tulsi said.

“He’s cute and an engineer. He’s coming to America on a work visa. My parents found two other guys and want me to go to India next summer to meet them.”

“You know what that means. People don’t go to India to just meet a suitor. You’re coming back married.”

Jeeta made a face.

…

The next day, the girls packed up most of the leftovers and piled into the car, giving me a few minutes alone with Papa.

“When are you mailing the ashes?” I asked.

“I’m thinking of flying to India with them,” Papa replied.

“Call me when you decide, assuming you’re talking to me again.”

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose the way he did when he was getting a headache. “I’m not happy about Tyler. I heard your promises, too. I would’ve asked for the same thing on my deathbed.”

“Tyler is wonderful. I understand it’s a big deal, not what you had planned, but I don’t understand why it’s so horrible.”

“He
is
a good man. Tyler and I have actually spoken a lot.”

“You have?”

“That’s beside the point. You saw how he didn’t fit into our life this past week. Family, friends,
mandir
, ceremonies. He’s too different. Manuk, he took care of you, of us. We’ll talk about this later. Have a safe trip.”

The girls played all of my favorite songs on the way home. We rocked out to upbeat jams. Music touched the soul, and this music made me want to dance the pain away. My phone buzzed.

Ty:
Are you coming home today?

Priya:
Driving to Houston now.

Ty:
I can’t wait to hold you. x

Mixed emotions brewed in my chest: happiness to be with Ty again and fear of having to make
the
decision again. Dread knotted in my throat. The decision
had
been made. It was just a matter of when I would have the guts to voice it.

“Are you okay?” Vicki asked.

“Just thinking.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Tulsi and Jeeta quieted in the backseat.

“Maybe later.”

My phone buzzed again.

Manuk:
Are you okay today?

Why couldn’t he leave me alone?

Priya:
Yes.

Manuk:
Can I call you?

Priya:
No. Give me space.

Manuk:
You know I care. I won’t harass you, though. Call me when you’re ready.

Fat flipping chance.