The Forbidden Daughter (20 page)

Overnight, Isha was making clothes for the children and enjoying it, too. It was becoming her savior in other ways as well.

Instead of brooding over things after the girls were tucked in bed each night, she sewed like a maniac. The result was a number of much-needed new outfits for the children, and the best thing was, she hadn’t had to spend a single rupee on them.

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What was it Harish had said about the dresses? They looked like store-bought clothes. She’d felt immensely pleased with his compliment.

Thinking of Harish, she recalled the way he’d looked at her the other day—or rather stared. She was woman enough to recognize frank admiration in a man’s eyes. She’d experienced enough of it during her college years, when boys had stared at her, sent her silly little love notes, even tried to ring her at home.

(Her parents had intercepted those calls and quickly put an end to them.)

But Harish was a grown man and the expression on his face was not that of a boy with a crush.

His gaze had left her all hot and embarrassed, but she had to admit she’d also enjoyed it. Her pulse turning erratic at his attention wasn’t an accident. She’d felt something . . . slightly disturbing.

Was he interested in her as a woman? That may well be, but she couldn’t really have any interest in him, now, could she? It wasn’t even a year since Nikhil’s demise. How could a woman totally in love with her husband have any feelings for another man? And so soon after her husband’s death?

It was merely a reflex, a physical reaction to the opposite sex.

She’d taken enough psychology courses to know that was quite normal.

Granted, Harish now looked rather distinguished in an academic sort of way. The crisp clothes, glossy shoes, and the professionally confident yet socially shy personality had a certain quaint charm. He was a genuinely nice man, too. Besides, she had loads of admiration for his superior intellect.

However, she had no interest in him other than as a friend, she told herself firmly. She couldn’t!

Halfway through the hemming, a knock sounded on the door and she let Sheila and Priya in. “Mummy!” Priya gave her an exuberant hug. The child had stars in her eyes and her face looked flushed.

“Looks like you had a wonderful time at Sheila-tayi’s place,”

Isha said.

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“Guess what!” Priya looked up at her. “Milind and Arvind got a new puppy!”

“Isn’t that nice!” Isha glanced at Sheila, who pulled a disgusted face. So the puppy wasn’t Sheila’s idea.

“Mummy, can we get a puppy, too?”

This was what Isha had feared. The moment Priya had mentioned the puppy she knew exactly what her little girl was leading up to.

Sheila held up a cautionary hand. “Say no, Isha. You’ll save yourself a lot of headaches. That puppy is a menace.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ve had that horrible dog for one day and already he’s chewed up two pairs of my sandals and an expensive handbag. Plus he’s stolen food from the kitchen. Our cook is ready to strangle the beast.”

“That bad, huh?” Isha tried to sympathize, but her lips twitched. Poor Sheila looked like she was ready to choke the puppy, too. She turned to Priya. “You see how much trouble a puppy is? That’s why we can’t have one.”

“Please, Mummy.” She put her skinny hands around Isha’s face to get her undivided attention. “I promise I’ll make sure our puppy doesn’t eat your shoes.”

Isha put on her most forbidding expression. “No! We can’t leave a puppy here by itself all day while you and Diya and I are at school.” Besides, she barely had enough money to feed and clothe the kids, let alone a pet.

“Oh . . .” Priya’s brow creased for a moment. “I can stay at home and take care of him. You and Diya can go to school.”

Sheila started to chuckle. “Now
there’s
a novel excuse for cutting school. I hadn’t heard that one before.”

Isha winked at Sheila across the room. “She can be very inventive in that department.”

Taking Priya by the arm, Sheila pulled her over to the sofa.

“Come here, darling. Your mummy is right. This flat is too small for a puppy, and all of you are too busy to take care of it.”

Seeing Priya’s small face wilt, she added, “You know you can come to our house and play with Rambo any time you want to.”

“Promise?”

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“Promise. That way you get to play with Rambo
and
your cousins.”

“Okay.” Priya’s smile returned with some of its former radiance.

Isha observed the interaction between her daughter and Sheila, and her heart warmed. Sheila was so different from her parents. Isha had always thought fondly of her, but in the last few months she’d become Isha’s private savior, her best friend, the sister she’d never had.

Isha looked at the clock and then at Priya. “Time for bed, pumpkin. Go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas while I talk to Sheila-tayi.”

Now that the small matter about puppies was resolved, Priya took off for the bathroom.

Meanwhile Sheila’s gaze fell on the dress Isha was hemming and the other two that needed buttons sewn on. She stared at them in astonishment. “Are you actually
making
those dresses?”

“Yes.” Isha looked at the expression on Sheila’s face. “Are they that
bad?
”

“They’re that
good
.” She picked up one and held it up to the light. “This looks so professionally made. I had no idea you could sew this well.”

“I’ve always liked sewing, but I never bothered doing it.” She didn’t have to, until now.

Sheila put the dress down. “These are superbly tailored, like you’d see in a dress shop.”

“I’m just trying to skimp on buying the girls’ clothes. When Mrs. Shintre gave me her old machine and some fabrics, I went a little crazy.”

Sheila became thoughtful for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “You know what? I have an idea.”

“What?”

“If you can create dresses like these for some of Palgaum’s rich kids, maybe you could start a business of your own.”

Isha gave a hoot of laughter. It was the first time in months she’d laughed out loud, surprising herself and Sheila. “You must be crazy. Making a couple of frocks for my daughters is not the same as being a professional.”

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“But these
are
professional. All this lace edging and frills are hard to do. You already know how the women you and I socialize with go to Mumbai or some other big city to buy clothes for their daughters. If they could buy them right here in town, and have them custom-fitted instead of buying them off a rack in some expensive boutique, I’ll bet they’d prefer coming to you.”

A tingle of excitement crept through Isha. Could Sheila be right? Did she have it in her to do something independent like dressmaking? “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a business-woman,” she said nevertheless.

Sheila chuckled. “
Cut out
is a clever pun for a dressmaker. If you ask me, you never give yourself enough credit for being an intelligent and capable woman. In fact, we Indian women rarely expect anything from ourselves beyond playing adoring wives and mothers.”

“But that’s the way we’re brought up, Sheila. We never think

‘outside the box,’ as they say.”

“So you agree with me?”

“I agree with your reasoning.”

“Then this is your chance to prove to yourself that you can do something with your life.”

“But what if no one buys my homemade dresses? Then what?”

Sheila made a casual gesture with her perfectly manicured hand. “Then there’s always the orphanage job, isn’t there?”

“True, but how am I going to advertise? How will I know if I can meet customers’ deadlines? I can only do so much with my regular job, the housework, and my kids.”

Glancing at her wristwatch, Sheila rose to her feet. “Leave that to me. Just give me a couple of sample dresses. At my mahjong party next week, I’ll show them to some of our friends.

We’ll see what they have to say.”

Reluctantly Isha went into her bedroom and brought out two of her best creations: a white cotton one with eyelet edging in Diya’s infant size and the other a full-skirted pale blue with a darker blue embroidered collar and matching sash made for Priya.

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“I’m telling you,” she warned Sheila, “Baba and Ayee will probably explode when they find out their rebellious embarrass-ment of a daughter-in-law is up to further tricks, like taking up tailoring, to further discredit them.”

Sheila was quiet for a moment, making Isha wonder if she’d said something wrong. But Sheila picked up her purse, folded the dresses, and tucked them under her arm. “Ayee and Baba have other things on their mind lately to worry about such things.”

Isha stilled. “Is something wrong, Sheila?”

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but I suppose you’ll find out soon enough. Ayee’s been ill for the last few weeks.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Guilt crept up on Isha in an instant.

Was it her own actions that had caused Nikhil’s mother to fall sick? “I guess I was selfish in thinking only of myself and my children when I decided to leave. But Ayee didn’t seem all that concerned when I told her I was leaving for good.”

Sheila shook her head. “I don’t think your leaving has anything to do with this. She was complaining of chest pains and breathlessness, so her doctor ran some tests.”

“How serious?” Despite her bitterness about her in-laws, she felt a twinge of regret. These were people she’d lived with for several years, and she’d considered them surrogate parents all that time.

“They found two of her arteries were partially blocked, so they inserted stents in them.”

“She looked okay when I left home that morning,” said Isha.

“I know losing Nikhil was hard on her, but . . .” Was the heart blockage something that could be caused by trauma and heartbreak? Had Isha inadvertently been the cause of her mother-in-law’s problems? If so, she’d never be able to forgive herself.

“The doctor says this started years ago, well before Niku’s death. Her cholesterol levels have always been high, and she’s overweight. These conditions run in her family. My grandfather died of a heart attack when he was quite young, and so did Ayee’s older brother. Besides, you know how Ayee and Baba hate going to the doctor unless they’re really sick. Anyway, 148
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when the chest pains started, Baba forced her to see the doctor.

That’s how they found out she had a blockage.”

“How is she doing now?”

Sheila looked up at the ceiling, biting her trembling lower lip.

“She’s seems okay at the moment. The pain’s gone and she has eased back into her old social life, but she has to watch her diet and take better care of herself.” The tears abruptly started to pool in her eyes. “I know she’s not a warm, caring woman, but . . .

She’s still my mother.”

“Of course she is.” Isha tried to think of something appropriate to say, but she couldn’t. What could she say? She wasn’t even a part of that family anymore, but technically she was still a Tilak, and they were still her in-laws. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Sheila shook her head, looking so miserable that Isha instinctively put her arms around her. She couldn’t help the tears of sympathy that stung her own eyes. Sheila was hurting and so was she. The woman who was her children’s grandmother was ailing, and that hurt, too.

Sheila extricated herself from Isha’s arms and sniffed. “I better leave before Priya comes out and finds both of us crying.

She’ll start asking questions.”

“All right.” Isha quickly dried her eyes and opened the door for Sheila. “I wish you’d told me earlier.”

“You have enough to worry about. The last thing you need is more worry and guilt.” Sheila stepped outside the door, hesitated for a beat, and stopped again. “Maybe it’s best that I tell you this. Ayee’s now convinced that Diya is responsible for everything, including her heart condition.”

Isha took a fortifying breath. “Is she still in that ‘blame the baby’ mode?”

“I’m afraid so. I just thought I’d warn you before you heard it from someone else. Ayee was telling that to all her friends who came to visit her during her illness.”

“I see.” Isha tried to summon a smile despite the tightness in her chest. “And do you believe that, too?”

“Never! I’ve never subscribed to that nonsense at any time in THE

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my life. I think we all come with our fates sealed and delivered the day we’re born. Someone else can’t change what’s going to happen. I love Diya like my own.”

“Thank you, Sheila. And I’m glad you warned me. Just keep me informed of everything, will you?”

“All right.”

Isha waited till her sister-in-law walked away, then closed the door and heaved a deep sigh. If Ayee’s condition worsened, how was Baba going to survive losing his son and possibly his wife, too? And why was her Diya, her innocent little baby, being held responsible for all the unfortunate things that were happening?

If only her in-laws would see their beautiful granddaughter and find out for themselves what a sweet fountain of joy she was.

But that would never happen. Ayee would never want to lay eyes on her imagined nemesis.

For the first time since Nikhil’s death Isha felt sorry for her father-in-law. Despite his rigid ways and complete lack of warmth, and although she couldn’t forgive him for spanking Priya so mercilessly, Isha felt something akin to pity for him.

On the one hand she thoroughly resented the man and on the other she sympathized with him. Was it possible to have such polarized feelings about someone?

In the next instant she realized her softer sentiments were because of Nikhil and Sheila. He was their father and now anything she did that hurt him would hurt Sheila. But if she did feel sorry for Baba for some convoluted reason, what could she do to help? He’d only spurn her offer.

She decided it was best not to tell Priya about her grandmother just yet. In any case, the child had almost forgotten her grandparents by now. Priya rarely talked about them anymore.