Chapter 9 #2
I look around the garden, at the house beyond it, and something settles inside me.
“I’ll never get that. It should bother me, but it doesn’t.
At home, everything was always decided for me.
What I wore. What I studied. Even my daily schedule was hung on the wall, and I was expected to follow it to the letter. ”
He nods like he understands. I suppose he does, as much as someone looking in from the outside can. Until you experience that type of dictated life, you never really know what it’s like.
“I’m telling you all this so you know that, in my father’s eyes, he did nothing wrong. He lost face when I wouldn’t marry the man he’d picked out for me. Now, he thinks I’m marrying a man of my own choosing who isn’t someone he would ever pick for me.”
“Because I’m American?”
“Because you’re not a good Indian boy. You know, it’s a miracle that he’s even here. That just shows you how desperately they want me married. They are willing to accept my choice.”
He reaches up and brushes away a tear on my cheek I didn’t realize I’d shed. I look up into his eyes. Even in the moonlight, I can see the intensity in his gaze.
There’s a shift in the air between us as we inch closer.
“Would your dad approve of a kiss under the moonlight?” His palm cups the side of my face while his thumb gently rubs my lips.
“He would almost expect it. Is he watching from his bedroom window?”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”
We scoot closer on the bench until he’s pressed against my side. I tilt my head to one side and he tilts his to the other… and then his lips touch mine.
His lips are warm and soft with a hint of spice left over from dinner. For half a second, I freeze. Not because I don’t want it. Because I do. Too much. Then my caution gives way and melts completely.
I sway into him, just enough to erase that last fragile space between us, and my hand comes up to rest lightly against his chest. I need to steady myself against the way everything inside me shifts.
His thumb stills against my cheek, then slides into my hair to hold me, not demanding, not pushing, just… there.
The kiss deepens, slow and unhurried, our tongues caressing like we have all the time in the world. Like this isn’t built on something temporary. The world fades. The breeze quiets. There’s only this. Only him.
Only the way his breath mixes with mine, the way his mouth moves against mine like he needs this kiss desperately.
My fingers curl slightly in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer without meaning to. Or maybe meaning to more than I want to admit.
Walker presses against me fully now, close enough that my body reacts before my brain catches up. A soft sound escapes me before I can stop it.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his forehead resting lightly against mine, our breathing uneven and labored.
“Naudi…”
Reluctantly, I open my eyes and look up into his and, for a second, everything we haven’t said sits right there between us.
This isn’t part of the plan. This isn’t supposed to happen, but neither of us moves away. Neither of us pretends it didn’t. My hand is still on his chest. His is tangled in my hair, holding me. Waiting.
“It’s easy to forget this isn’t real.”
“It feels real,” he answers.
I slowly shake my head. “It can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because it started with a lie. My parents are in your house because of a lie.”
“That doesn’t make our feelings a lie.”
I stand up and take a few steps away. I can’t think straight when he’s close. “That’s not how this works.”
“Seems like it is.”
I turn back and look at him. Really look at the man who stepped into chaos and somehow made it feel manageable. At the man who made space for my family without hesitation. At the man who… No. He didn’t ask for any of this.
“Maybe we should go in. Tomorrow is going to be a long day,” I say, changing the subject to safer ground.
“Right, we’re showing your parents your store.”
“You don’t need to come. I’m sure you have work I’m keeping you from.”
“I’m pretty sure your dad would like another man along in a women’s underwear store. Even if that man is me.”
“Really, you don’t have to come. I’ll be fine. I always am.”
His smile fades. “Yeah. You are.”
We stand there for another moment, neither of us moving. Neither of us saying what we’re both thinking. Then finally I break the stalemate. “We should go in.”
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t close the distance and reach for my hand, but he stays beside me as we walk back toward the house. We say goodnight at the top of the stairs and go our separate ways.
Later, as I lie in bed going over our conversation, a smile grows wide on my face when I remember my parents’ bedroom faces the front of the house not the back. There’s no way my father could have been looking out his bedroom window to see us kiss in the garden below.
I chuckle to myself and roll over. As I fall asleep, I don’t feel the smile ever leave my face.
The bell over the door chimes as I push it open. “Welcome to my shop,” I say, stepping aside to let them in.
Ma walks in first. She surveys the space immediately, eyes moving left to right and taking in every detail with the precision of a woman who has spent her life evaluating quality, presentation, and worth.
Arya follows behind her with far less restraint. She was here before, but she didn’t have time to really look around.
“Oh, my God,” she breathes. “Naudi, this is incredible.”
I try not to react but don’t quite succeed. This is the first time anyone related to me sees what I’ve been able to achieve. A bit of pride slips in.
“This is yours?” Ma asks as she turns in a circle to see it all.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes. I designed and manufactured everything.”
She moves farther in, running her fingers lightly over a display, examining the stitching, the fabrics, the details. “This is good work,” she finally comments.
Arya is already moving toward a rack. “She always was the talented one.”
“That is not how I remember it,” I mutter under my breath.
My father continues to stand just inside the door. Maybe Walker should have come with us. I do miss him and his quiet, steady comfort. Which I don’t need to start depending on.
Ma pauses at a display of a gown set, a champagne silk and lace robe and nightgown. I designed it with the thought of it being a bridal set.
Ma takes the gown off the hanger and studies it closely. “You made this?”
“I designed it and made a prototype, but then I sent the design off to the manufacturing plant to cut and sew to my specifications. I used to make everything, but I no longer have the time to keep up with demands.”
She nods slowly. “You do quality work. Your lace could be a higher grade, but I understand the cost would need to double. You made a wise decision.”
I blink. That… is not what I expected.
“You should speak with our silk merchants. Your father could get you a deal. Then you would have something from home to represent your heritage in your store.”
Again, unexpected.
She lowers her voice and looks directly into my eyes. “You always had potential. I am proud of you for finding the training you needed on your own.”
Stunned, I can’t process her compliment and come up with a response. Thankfully, the door swings open and a cheery “There you are!” saves me.
Poppy comes in like she always does. Bright, warm, and entirely unapologetic about it. She stops short when she spots my family. Then her face lights up.
“You must be the parents,” she says, crossing the space without hesitation. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I try to catch her eye to tell her to behave, even though I know she won’t.
“I’m Poppy.” She introduces herself, offering her hand. “Naudi’s best friend.”
Ma accepts it, her expression polite but curious. “You are the bookstore owner.”
“That’s me,” Poppy says proudly. “And occasional bad influence.”
“That is true,” I mumble.
Arya steps forward immediately. “I love you already, and I love your dress. It’s so…vintage.”
It’s a 1950s style, blue with white polka dots dress. An Audrey Hepburn going to a rockabilly party cocktail dress with a crisp white belt. My friend loves her vintage.
“I have that effect,” Poppy replies, “and Naudi makes all my clothes. She has for years. I simply couldn’t be happy without them.”
Within minutes, the entire dynamic changes. Arya is trying things on. We’re laughing and, to my complete shock, Ma even pulls a few things to try on.
“This one.” Arya holds up a piece. “You have to try this, Ma.”
It’s a sexy little black silk number with a matching thong. So unlike my mother. Arya’s right. She would look good in it, but she would never wear it.
“I do not—” Ma starts to say.
“You do,” Arya cuts in.
Poppy steps in smoothly. “You absolutely do.”
Ma hesitates then smiles like a schoolgirl caught wearing makeup and takes it into a dressing room.
I stare. Poppy glances at me and winks. I will deal with her later.
Papa still hasn’t come into the space, not involving himself in any of the women’s fun. I move toward him, uncertain of what I’m going to say.
“You don’t have to stand there. There’s a coffee shop a few doors down if you’d rather wait there.”
“I am comfortable here,” he answers and crosses his hands in front.
“I have a chair in the back if you’d like to sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.”
Okay. His distance isn’t anything new. I start to turn away and rejoin the women when he shocks me by saying, “This is good.”
I turn back and look at him, wondering if I heard him correctly. “You think so?”
He nods once.
It’s not praise. Not exactly, but it’s acknowledgement and from him… that matters.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Laughter spills out of the dressing area, my mother’s the loudest. Real laughter. From my mother.
“You need to go control your mother before she buys something she shouldn’t.”
Some little devil has me saying, “I don’t know, Papa, you might enjoy it.”
Realizing what I’ve said, and to whom, has me hightailing it to the dressing room.
Ma laughs again. I’m not sure I have ever heard that before. Not like this. Not free. Not unguarded.
“She looks happy,” Poppy says, stepping up beside me.
I glance at her. “She is not supposed to look happy.”
“Well…” Poppy folds her arms. “She does.”
Ma steps out a second later wearing a forest green satin peignoir set. It works well with her dark coloring. She seems to stand simultaneously taller and less stiffly.
Arya claps. “Yes! That’s the one.”
Ma looks at me, her expression questioning. “Yes, Ma. It’s perfect on you. You should have it.”
“It is beautiful,” she says, and I know she means it.
And then… as I’m bagging the items my sister and mother have picked out, the happy bubble in my heart bursts when my mother announces, “We should have an engagement party.”
The words land like a dropped glass on a cement floor. I go still.
Arya lights up instantly. “Yes!”
“No,” I protest at the same time.
Ma ignores me. “We are here,” she continues. “Family should be present. This is the appropriate time.”
“It’s not necessary,” I say quickly.
Ma eyes me sternly, “It is expected.”
I open my mouth, hoping for a reason why it isn’t possible to appear when Poppy butts in. “It’s already handled,” she says with a grin.
I turn to her. “What?”
She smiles brightly. “It was going to be a surprise engagement party, but so what, your family should be there. We’ll just move the date up.”
I stare blankly at her. Is she losing her mind? Is this some kind of post-natal delusion after having a baby? My best friend doesn’t flinch.
Ma’s entire demeanor shifts. “You will? This is most wonderful!”
“Yes,” Poppy assures her without skipping a beat. “Naudi has lots of friends on the island. We wanted to do this for her and Walker. They make such a cute couple, don’t you think?”
Arya claps again. “I knew I liked you.”
“This is good,” Ma agrees. “Very good. Of course we will help prepare the feast.”
Poppy catches my eye. Don’t, I silently tell her and she shrugs with a smile. I’m going to kill her.
I take a breath and force a smile. “That’s so sweet of my good friend to surprise us like this.” The words taste like trouble.
“Wonderful,” Ma says, clearly pleased now. “We will stay long enough to attend. Father will change our flight.”
Of course they will. Arya links her arm through mine. “This is going to be amazing.”
Yes. Amazing. That’s one word for it. Poppy leans closer, her voice low near my ear. “I’ve got you.”
I exhale slowly. Because at this point, she better. What started as a lie has just turned into an event. There’s no going back now. How am I going to tell Walker?