Chapter 27
She pulled her knees into her stomach and placed a hand on my heart. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
I let out an exhale. “Turn over.”
She smiled, turned over, and snuggled into me. I pushed her fragrant hair over her shoulder and wrapped my hand around her waist.
“I feel like I can breathe again,” I said. “I was suffocated when I came here. Now I feel relieved. I don’t need anything else.”
She stroked my arm, and I placed a gentle kiss on the back of her neck just as my phone vibrated violently on the dresser. She turned around.
“It’s Mom,” I said, glancing at my watch. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off the bed and answered the phone.
“Yes, Ma?”
“Sameer, I’m sorry. I know you’re with Tara, but this is urgent.”
“It’s alright. What happened?”
“Sangita called,” Mom said without a preface. “She’s at the hospital again,”
“Oh!”
“You’ll need to be there for Riya if anything happens, Sameer. You need to get there as soon as possible.”
I looked at Tara’s calm face. She sat up and smiled at me, but I couldn’t smile back. I didn’t want to lose this moment with her, but I also didn’t want Riya to end up an orphan if Sangita passed away. How was I ever going to tell Tara about her?
“Yes, Ma. I’ll come right over, and we can hash out the details.” I evaded Tara’s eyes as I ended the call.
“Sameer?” Her sweet voice demanded.
“Another fire I need to put out.” I sighed as I lowered myself to the edge of her bed. “There’s something urgent I need to attend to in India.”
“In India?”
“There’s one last thing I haven’t told you yet.”
When I finished telling her about Sangita and Riya, her hands covered her startled, gaping mouth.
“You have another sister! This is huge, Sameer!” She blinked. “Oh, my darling!” She leapt forward to grab me in a hug. “No wonder you’ve been hurting for so long.” She held my face in her hands. “Did I just mess up your life again, Sameer? Please tell me the truth.”
I smiled a weary smile. “No, my love. You made everything right. Can we talk about this when I’m back?”
“Are you leaving now?”
“As soon as I can, possibly tomorrow morning. I’ll grab a bag with some clothes from my place then head over to my parents’.”
She sat up and hugged my back. “It will be alright, Sameer. You’re doing the right thing. I’ll be here when you return.”
I took her hand and kissed it, then willed myself off the bed.
On my way to the condo, I called Mom. “Ma, I’m going home to pack a bag. I’ll stay at yours tonight, then leave on the next available flight.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Does Dad know?”
“No.” She dropped her voice “But we might have to tell him now.”
“Wait for me. Don’t tell him anything yet,” I cautioned. I wasn’t sure how he’d react. I didn’t want Mom to bear the brunt of his temper. I wanted to be there to give him what he deserved.
In my apartment, I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, pulled out a bag from the closet, and shoved some clothes and essentials into it. I retrieved my U.S. passport and Overseas Citizen of India card, which would allow my entry into the country. I had been gone a long time. It would be strange to be back there and see the place with different eyes.
When I arrived at my parents’ house, Durgaben let me in. Dad lounged in the recliner in his study with the television on. I didn’t have to guess that he had a drink in his hand. Amar and Mom had changed out of their party clothes and sat in the family room, anxiety and fear marking both their faces. Mom rushed over and hugged me.
“It’s okay, Ma. Everything will be fine. I’ll take care of it.”
Just then, Dad ambled in with a tight grip on his crystal glass. “Ah, the ungrateful son returns.”
“Ungrateful?” I fumed. “Do you really think the stunt you pulled today won’t come and bite us in the ass?”
“Language…” Mom muttered under her breath. But I threw her a stern glare, and she looked away.
“What the hell were you thinking suggesting that bullshit to Aarti? What did you tell her anyway?”
“Well, you’re going to be rich and happy for life, aren’t you?” he replied, unfazed.
“Are you serious? Did you really think it was wise to jump into formalizing a relationship with someone as well connected as the Bhatias without first cleaning up our own backyard?”
“What are you talking about? They know all they need to know.”
“Really? And what happens when they learn about Riya?” I frowned with anger. “Do you think they’ll be cool with that?”
Dread filled his eyes as he staggered, groping for something to steady himself. Amar and I rushed over. Amar took the glass from his hand while I lowered him to the couch.
Leaving him alone with a refilled glass, we went to their bedroom. Mom handed me some pictures she thought might help me connect with Riya. The betrayal stung me every time I saw those smiling faces, in love, as if nothing else mattered. It was a family. A real family, just not one recognized by the law.
“Keep a cool head,” Mom said, “and be kind. There is nothing greater than kindness at this time.”
I hung my head low. “Yes.”
“Make the girl feel loved. She’s at that tender age where she’s not a child anymore. She knows things even if she doesn’t understand them completely. If she needs to come here, she should be happy about it and not feel trapped. Do you understand? We’re her only family. Sangita’s parents have broken all ties with her. They will want nothing to do with Riya.”
I gave her a meek nod just as Amar walked in with a laptop in his hand. “I found two first-class tickets for an early morning flight tomorrow. Expensive, but I guess it’s alright?”
I nodded and handed him a credit card. “Wait, why two?”
“Amar is going with you,” Mom said.
I looked up at him, and he reassured me with a light nod.
“I’m sorry you have to cut your visit short,” I said, but I was grateful for his support.
“You’ll stay at Tauji’s while you’re there,” Mom said.
“I’d rather stay at a hotel.” I looked at Amar. It was his home, after all.
“I don’t care,” he said. “Whatever works for you.”
“Zid mat karo,” Mom admonished. “And don’t argue. You and Amar will stay at his parents’. End of discussion.”
“I’m guessing you’ve already spoken to them?”
“No, I’ll talk to them after you leave. I have no idea how to broach the subject.”
Amar and I said nothing. This was between the elders of the family, and we kids were instructed never to interfere.
···
Twenty-six hours and one layover later, we landed at the Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi. Being there again after everything that had happened evoked mixed feelings. Although I was born in the U.S., I grew up in this city. All of my formative memories were linked to this place. It was home. At least, it used to be. But thirteen years is a long time in a rapidly changing world. The city had changed. I had changed. My relationship with it wasn’t the same. I almost didn’t recognize some parts as we drove to my uncle’s home.
“Worried about seeing Riya?” Amar asked upon reading my face.
I nodded. “And Sangita.”
“Don’t worry. People have a way of surprising you when you least expect it. I’ll be with you all the way.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said as the driver pulled up into the driveway of a stately home.
My anxiety was not unfounded. I was facing Tauji and Taiji after a long time. While Amar had made multiple visits to the U.S., Tauji continued to hold a grudge against us. It was moralistic righteousness, but that was his prerogative.
Taiji gave me a warm welcome. Her husband remained somber but wasn’t bitter. I think having Amar with me softened the blow.
Early the next morning, I called Vishal Mamaji. He said Sangita had shown positive signs after her first two chemotherapy sessions but had deteriorated since. She had become too frail to endure another round. We discussed the possibility of other medical alternatives, but he didn’t voice much hope for their success.
“Get her affairs in order,” he said curtly. “And yours.”
“Yes, Mamaji. Can I visit her? I was hoping to see Riya.”
“Yes, she visits after school. Come by in the evening.”
That evening, Amar and I walked into the luxury hospital with its polished tiles and tasteful décor and took the elevators up to the fifth floor. I stifled an anxious breath as I prepared myself to meet the little girl. I hadn’t seen her since she was a nine-month-old baby. How would I introduce myself to her? What had Sangita told her about me? My feet halted outside the giant doors of the oncology unit.
“What will I say to her, Amar?”
“You’ll find the words when you see her,” he reassured.
We found Sangita’s room and knocked softly. A young girl answered the door, and I took an unconscious step back. The resemblance was unmistakable. Amar and I exchanged a quick look.
“Riya?” I asked.
“Yes.” She sounded courteous but confident.
“I’m Sameer,” I said, still outside the door.
The slight smile on her face disappeared as she blinked rapidly, and an angry frown began taking shape.
“Can we come in?”
She put a hand on the doorjamb, trying to decide if she should let two strangers in. That’s what I was—a stranger. She turned and looked behind her. “Give me a minute,” she said, and closed the door on us.
Several minutes passed before she let us in.
My eyes landed on Sangita. She looked completely different from the last time I had seen her. She had aged beyond her years. Her eyes had sunk deeper into their sockets, and her already pale complexion had gone from healthy pink to sickly white. She looked frail.
“Yes, cancer will do that to you,” she said.
“I’m sorry.” I took a step toward her, but Riya’s hand blocked us.
“Don’t get too close. She’s weak and prone to infections.” She pointed to the chairs by the wall, across the room. “You can sit there.”
I nodded, and we sat.
“I’m sorry to see you like this,” I said to Sangita.
She turned her gaze toward Riya. “Can you give us a minute?”
Riya stared back with undaunted defiance. “I’m not leaving you alone with him,” she said to her mother.
“It’s alright,” Sangita reassured her with multiple weak nods.
Riya frowned and pouted before walking out and closing the door behind her.
“Do you want me to step out?” Amar asked in his gentle, calm manner.
She responded with a tired shake of her head. “I’m grateful you’re here, Amar.” He nodded and returned a small smile.
She looked at me. “Let’s cut to the chase, Sameer. I called your mother because I’m dying, and I want Riya to grow up with you all. I don’t want her living like an orphan in India or with my parents, who haven’t seen her yet. Whatever our history, I know I can trust you to do right by her. I know you will love her the way she deserves to be loved. You’re not a cruel man, or you wouldn’t be here.”
I hung my head.
“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but here we are. Riya has her passport, and she’ll give you whatever else is needed. I’ve entrusted her with all the important documents and legal papers. We got the visa appointment, but I’ve no idea how long I have. I can sign over the parental rights too if you want.”
“No,” I said with an emphatic shake of the head, “I want her to be with you…”
“As long as I’m here. I appreciate it.” She nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to say that. It wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“Even so, I willingly entered into a relationship I knew would wreck lives.”
I looked at her across the span of the long room. “Do you wish to see him?”
She was too frail to sigh, but made a sound that was close to it. “No. It was never meant to be. I don’t want to be conflicted in my last days.”
“I’m sorry, Sangita. I shouldn’t have left you and Riya alone to fend for yourselves.”
“You didn’t. You’ve been generous. Without the financial support you ensured, we wouldn’t be where we are. Riya is thriving at the elite school. She’s smart, like you.” She managed a brief smile. “She’s a natural genius and has a very bright future. You need to make sure she fulfills her potential.”
“I’ll do everything to make things right,” I said as a lone tear slipped out without warning. I sniffed and swiped it away quickly.
“I see you’re still a kind man, Sameer. I’m very proud of who you’ve become, if I may say that.”
I gave a slight nod. “You’ve been brave. I can’t imagine being in your shoes, being this charitable toward me after how I treated you. Thank you for trusting me with her.”
An impatient knock interrupted us, and Riya stuck her head in. “Can I come in now?”
“Actually, I’d like to speak with you outside, if you don’t mind,” I said, looking at Riya, then at Sangita.
Something transpired between them with an exchanged look. Sangita nodded, and Riya slumped her shoulders. I stepped out of the room with her and walked over to a bench near the big windows at the end of the hallway.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked.
She nodded, her eyes on her hands.
“What has your mom told you about me?”
Anger flashed across her face, but she took a deep breath. “I hate you, Sameer,” she said calmly.
“I know, and you have every right to.”
“But Mumma trusts you. She says you’re the only one I can trust when she’s gone.” She held her head high. “But I’m not ready for her to die.”
“I understand.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Have you lost a parent? How can you understand? I lost my father, and now I’m losing Mumma.”
“You’ll have your father back,” I reassured her. “And a brother.”
“Too late,” she declared with a firm look. “I can never love anyone else like I love Mumma.”
“No one can take her place in your life. But we can have a different relationship, a different love? Friendship, perhaps.”
I spotted distrust in her eyes.
“Your mom wants you to come with me to the U.S. if…”
“You mean when she’s dead.” She was a firecracker who reminded me of Tara. The two would get along well. She didn’t mince words—no euphemisms for death. Dead. As if using it would allow her to come to terms with reality. Treating her like an adult, not the child that she was, seemed like the smartest way to gain her trust.
“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before I started the paperwork, but I want to ask if you’re okay with it. I don’t want to do anything without your permission or against your wishes.”
She considered me for a long minute.
“Yes.” She exhaled. “Mumma trusts you. So I do too.”
When we left, I thought I saw a faint smile at the corners of her mouth. I took it as the beginning of a new relationship.