Chapter 11
NAUDI
How?
How is this now my life?
I’m in my bedroom, standing on an ottoman, while my mother drapes me in a saree she just happened to bring with her from home. While she’s doing this, there are three conversations going on simultaneously, none of them involving me.
It’s a gorgeous teal silk. She mumbles something about thinner pleats because of my lack of height as she works the yards and yards of fabric around me.
Arya is sitting on my bed, and Poppy’s perched on an overstuffed chair by the window. She has a notebook in one hand and her phone in the other for Googling or calling to make arrangements.
I’m used to her talking fast and moving faster, but she’s outdoing herself today. It’s even hard for me to follow. Ma has to keep asking her to repeat. Currently she’s on the phone with Kimberly, our friend who owns the Inn.
Ma and Poppy have decided that’s where the engagement party will be held in two days’ time. Two days.
“No, no, we’ll use the back lawn. It’s bigger and the view is better.” There’s a pause while Kimberly says something. “Yes, I know the weather, but we’ll tent it if we have to.” Another pause and then, “No. Not white, that’s boring. We’ll do ecru or something vibrant like jade green.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. I know the only tent Kimberly has is white, so I hope we aren’t going with a green one.
She stops mid-sentence when she looks up at me. Probably disturbed at the misery on my face. But she smiles brightly. “We’re doing this,” she mouths.
“You are dead to me,” I mouth back.
She winks.
“Arya,” my mother orders. “Run to my room and get the ruby pin. That will be perfect to pin the pallu.”
Poppy ends the call and while she’s dialing someone else, she asks, “What’s a pallu?”
“The shoulder drape,” my mother answers.
“Ma, I don’t really think this is the place to wear traditional dress. Can’t I just wear a cute sundress and sandals?”
Arya rushes back in with the pin. Ma takes it and works on the correct placement.
“Absolutely not. This is your heritage and you’re announcing to the world that you and Walker are entering into a marriage. It is a joyous and meaningful time and should be treated with respect and the importance it merits.”
But it isn’t me. I want to say that, but she’s so happy I keep quiet.
She stands back with her hands on her hips, studying the saree. “I’m just not sure. I think the color is too casual,” she declares. “She needs something that says engagement, not lunch with friends.”
“It can’t be too formal,” Poppy shoots back. “This is island style, not ballroom.”
“It is an engagement,” Arya insists.
“It’s a party,” Poppy corrects.
“It is both,” my mother says without looking up. “I suppose it will have to do. For the engagement party, at least.”
“Naudi, it’s really gorgeous. You’ll knock Walker’s socks off,” Poppy offers, trying to ease the tension.
“Not before the wedding,” Ma teases, and Arya giggles. “We must set the wedding date before we leave. I’d say at least six months to a year will be enough time to have everything planned. Of course you’ll have a western wedding and then come home for the traditional ceremony.”
“What?” My eyes grow large and lock on to Poppy, who’s just as stunned as I am. “We… we haven’t talked about a date. I’ll let you know.”
As if I haven’t said a thing, my mother barrels ahead. “We’ll sit down with Walker and Tom before we leave. I have my planner with me.”
I look back at Poppy helplessly and tune out the conversation around me. They’re planning my engagement party. My fake engagement party that has nothing to do with me.
My chest tightens, making it hard to take in a full breath and it has nothing to do with the tightness of the saree. It’s happening. This is exactly what my life was like before I left home.
Decisions weren’t mine. Plans were made without my knowledge or input. I was expected to be a good Indian girl and fall in line with whatever was decided for me.
I step off the ottoman.
“Where are you going?” Ma asks.
My eyes beg Poppy to run interference. “I need a minute.”
“You don’t have a minute.”
“It’s fine, Anita. While she’s gone, we can talk about the menu again. Are you certain a Low Country boil won’t work?”
As I’m sure Poppy expects, my mother goes off on why that’s not suitable. I duck into the hallway and shut the door. It feels like a victory. A small one, but I’ll take it.
I slip out the back door before anyone can follow. As soon as I step outside and the salt air hits me, I can finally take a breath. I wrap my arms around myself and walk a few steps into the garden.
Each breath comes deeper, soothing my frayed nerves. Everything is coming at me all at once, and it’s more than I can handle. Seeing my family after so long and acting as if nothing had happened shouldn’t be this hard, but it is. I don’t think I’ve processed seeing them again.
I let out a slow breath. “This is insane,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” a voice says from behind me.
I turn and Walker stands not six feet from me. I try not to notice how calm I feel because of his presence and I smile. “Hi.”
“Are you coming or going?”
I let out a breath that feels like I’d been holding all morning. “Both are strong possibilities.”
I turn fully toward him and the second his eyes land on me, he freezes. His gaze moves over me slowly, taking in the saree. I haven’t worn one since I was eighteen years old. I know it makes me look like a completely different person.
“You’re…” He shakes his head. “That’s… something.”
I raise a brow. “That’s your big reaction?”
“I’m trying not to say something stupid. That’s what I usually do when I’m overwhelmed.”
“And you’re overwhelmed seeing me in a saree?”
That got a small huff of a laugh out of him. “Give me a second,” he says. “I’m still working through it.”
My lips press together, fighting a smile. How did he get me over my own meltdown with only a few words?
“Is that what it’s called. A sorry?”
I grin at the mispronunciation. “Yes, it’s a traditional Indian dress.” I gesture down at the saree. “My mother insists I must respect my heritage.”
“I’m not complaining. You look stunning. If I were a bee, I’d light on you.”
That does it. My grin expands into a full-on laugh. “Thank you. I needed that.”
He steps a little closer, giving me both space and his presence at the same time. He just seems to know what I need. “You want to tell me what put that worry on your beautiful face?” he asks.
I laugh again, softly this time, but there’s no humor in it. “Where do I even start?”
“Anywhere.”
I wave toward the house. My mother is probably still arguing with Poppy against a Low Country boil. Or maybe they’ve moved on to desserts or napkin color.
“My mother is planning everything. The food. The setup. The guest list of people she doesn’t know. Even our future.”
Walker follows my gaze. “Yeah.”
“She’s already talking about committing to a date,” I add quietly.
His head cocks to one side. “Date for the party? I thought it was on Saturday?”
I shake my head. “Not for the engagement party. She wants to set a date for the wedding.”
He has no reaction.
“I promise you, if things get that far, I will tell them the truth. I won’t put you or your father through that.”
His expression remains the same, but something in his eyes changes. “After everything you’ve been through for your sister, why would you do that? It’s just a date. It doesn’t mean anything unless we say it does.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening in my head,” I confess, my voice losing its sharp edge. “None of this is real. It’s all pretend. We both know that.”
“Yeah.”
“But I can’t separate it anymore. The planning, the expectations, the way I’m supposed to stand by quietly and allow everyone else to make decisions for me.”
I feel my hands clench in frustration. “It’s like I’m right back where I was before I left home. Like I’m losing control of my own life again.”
“I don’t want that for you.”
“I don’t want it either. I shouldn’t care. That’s the worst part. I shouldn’t care about any of this. It’s not real.”
“But you do. You earned your independence from that type of control.”
He gets it. He really, really gets it. Even more than that, he isn’t saying everything will be okay or offering to fix it. He understands and that means something.
Walker shifts on his feet and runs a hand along the back of his neck. A habit I’m coming to expect. He chuckles and gives me a wry smile. “We could just solve the whole problem.”
I frown. “How?”
He looks at me completely serious and says, “Well, we could elope.”
I blink rapidly, and I’m sure I heard him incorrectly. “What?”
“We could do the deed. If we elope, we do things on our terms. We have control.”
There’s a hint of teasing in his voice, but I’m not sure he isn’t serious. I stare at him. “You’re joking, right?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Seems efficient.”
I let out a breath that turns into a faint, incredulous laugh. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
“You can’t just suggest something like that.”
“Why not? You have to admit it would solve everything and make your life a lot happier.”
That… is not wrong. But no. I shake my head, trying not to smile. “Absolutely not. Besides, Ma would just demand we have a ceremony in India.”
“Alright,” he replies easily. “Worth a shot.”
And just like that, the weight in my chest eases. “Thank you.”
“You keep doing that. For what, this time?”
“For being here and talking me down when I needed it.”
In his own quiet manner, he gives me one single nod. I’m finding I don’t need more than that. I’m catching on to what he means without saying a word.
In my world of current chaos, he’s the only thing that feels…steady. That’s a problem. The steadier he feels, the harder it’s becoming to remember that this isn’t real. Or that it’s not supposed to be.
Somewhere between pretending and planning, this has stopped feeling like something I can walk away from.