Chapter Twenty-Six
This is the third dinner party I’m attending in the two weeks since I got back from New York. Druv’s mom threw one to welcome me back. Then my aie threw one to thank her for throwing that one. Then today, Druv’s mom’s girl gang is throwing one to bid us farewell before we leave on our shopping trip tomorrow.
The greatest miracle is that Druv has taken the day off. He wanted to spend time with me before I leave for India for two weeks. This morning he whisked me away for brunch in Chicago. After a leisurely feast of eggs and pastries at the Drake, we walked along Lake Michigan all the way from Navy Pier to the Adler Planetarium. It’s my favorite walk. The familiarity of Chicago is comforting after the adventure through the unknown that was New York.
I’ve been resisting the comparison, but when Druv asked which of the two cities I prefer, I had to give it some thought. I don’t think it’s about the cities so much as who I am in each of them. I got to do something remarkable in New York. I’ve never given Chicago a chance to be anything more than what I was told it was.
When I said that to Druv, he laughed. “Who are you, and what did you do with my fiancée?” It’s not the first time he’s said that since I got home.
After our walk, he came home with me and hung around in my room while I packed. We never did this before I went to New York, just hang out in each other’s presence. He’s been around a lot more since I came back. For the first time in our relationship, I feel pursued. Even though he is being less overtly pursuing.
“You don’t seem stressed about the trip at all,” Druv says and takes a sip of his scotch. We’re sitting on the deck of his mom’s friend’s house. It’s weird to see him this way, relaxed, attentive in a different way than I’m used to. He’s even wearing a golf shirt instead of his usual laundered button-downs. “You’re so different since you came back from New York. Should I brace myself for who my future wife is going to be when she returns from India?”
His smile says that the question is rhetorical, so I respond with a smile.
The aunties and uncles are inside, possibly giving us privacy and winking at each other about it. The other “kids” in his parents’ friend group are in the basement, playing pool or planning some sort of surprise dance for our wedding.
Druv decided to stay with me when I stepped out on the deck to check my messages. Reva sent me Vasu’s husband’s address last week, and I’ve been waiting to see if she can find Vasu’s brother’s number before I leave tomorrow.
I haven’t heard from Krish since we said goodbye two weeks ago. I’ve seen the three dots in his messages a few times, but he’s said nothing after our last exchange, just after we raced to LaGuardia from Reva’s home with my bag tucked recklessly between us on the bike and miraculously made my flight.
I haven’t told him yet that I plan to keep searching for Vasu when I’m in India. I need to before I leave, so I open up our chat on my phone and see our last texts.
Me: Thank you for the ride to the airport
Him: Sure
Me: You okay?
Him: Yes, thank you
Me: Don’t you think there were holes in Reva’s story?
Him: I know you think I should care. But I don’t
Me: Vasu might be your mother
Him: Really? No way! How did you figure that out?
Him: I don’t care, Mira
Me: Reva messaged me saying she can find Namdeo Sawant’s address
Him: Can you respect my wishes and let this go please?
Me: What if I can’t?
Him: You’re on your own then. Can you at least do me the kindness of leaving me out of it?
Me: Fine
I’ve kept my word, even though I don’t think leaving him out of it is doing him a kindness.
“Mira?” Druv says. “What’s going on? Is it Reva?”
I’ve told Druv about Reva and Vasu. I’ve told him about Krish too. The parts where we combed the jewelry stores of New York. Even the New York speed sightseeing and the motorcycle. But not MoMA. And not the parts about Krish’s connection to the ring. That’s not mine to tell.
“No. She hasn’t found Vasu’s brother’s number yet.”
“Shouldn’t it be easy enough to google it?”
I give him a pointed Don’t you think I’ve tried that already? look.
He looks delighted. If my being assertive makes him this happy, why did he get together with me in the first place? Because I wasn’t like this with him before.
“What’s the matter? What did I say?” he asks.
“Nothing. I just feel like you’re different, too, since I got back.”
“Really? How?” But his face tells me he knows what I mean.
“We’ve been engaged for six months. We’re getting married in three months. Why does it feel like we’re only really talking now?”
“Isn’t that natural? Don’t all relationships evolve?”
He’s not wrong. It’s not his fault that I’m feeling all these things. That I feel so different. “Can I ask you something, Druv?”
He nods.
“Why me? Why did you pick me?”
I know that makes him sound like some sort of mythical prince who had his pick of a bride from the ladies at court, but I’m not sure that wasn’t true, albeit in a somewhat modernized form.
He opens his mouth, but then he stops and gives it some thought before answering. “You’re kind, and you listen, and you were truly interested in understanding me.”
“That sounds like the bare minimum. The least amount of trouble. Someone who fit in with the life you wanted with minimal work.”
“If that were true, why would I be so happy that you’ve come back like this?”
“Like what?”
“More open. More comfortable in your skin. Accessible. It’s not like I didn’t try before. But you were closed off. I didn’t want to scare you away. You were”—he pauses—“skittish.”
God, he’s not wrong. I did feel skittish. I’ve felt like that for a very long time. I try to access that always skittish part of me, and I can’t quite find her.
“Why didn’t you try to find out what made me skittish?”
“I thought I knew.”
“Tell me what you thought.”
“It’s what you’ve said before. Your childhood. Your parents are great, but they didn’t have it easy, and they didn’t make it easy on you. I remember how quiet and reserved you were in high school. I also remember the natural kindness and dignity you had about you. Something none of us had at that age. I think I was struck by it then, and when I met you at Shubha’s wedding, I was struck by it again. There’s always been something about you, Mira. It came back to me, and it soothed me. You calm the restlessness inside me. You feel like an answer to questions I don’t even know I have.”
That might be the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. I blush. Because I might feel different, but I’m essentially the same dork.
“Can I ask you something too?” he says.
I nod.
“What happened in New York? Was it just the ring?”
“A lot of it was the ring. But ... I spent some time with Rumi.” I wait for him to react. Rumi’s reputation in our town isn’t exactly stellar.
“Isn’t he in jail?”
“What?” Every bit of warmth I’m feeling vanishes.
“Sorry. I’m ... you never talk about him. That’s what your aie told Mom. Or maybe Mom made that assumption based on something your mother said. You know how the moms work.”
“You went to school with Rumi. How could you think such a thing about him and not ask me about it?”
“Your brother’s choices have nothing to do with you.”
Does he think he’s being generous right now? “How can you say that? Does Ariana have nothing to do with you?”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Why? Because Brown Town gossips about Rumi and he isn’t here to protect himself?”
“Mira, can we slow down for a minute? Please.”
“No, Druv. This is not about my speed. Rumi is an architect who works on designing sets for the theater in New York. One of his plays was nominated for a Tony last year. He’s not a criminal. He never was. This town basically chewed him up and spat him out because of their bigotry.”
Druv takes my hands in his. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You know all of this.”
“Not in the way that I’m seeing it now. I’m glad you got to spend time with him. Was that what was bothering you before you went to New York? Your estrangement from Rumi?”
“I was never estranged from him. My parents are. My relationship with him was strained because I never stood up for him. It isn’t anymore. So yes, the trip was great. I feel like I have my brother back.”
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. I started straightening it again after I got home. He seems genuinely happy for me. “That’s great. Ariana and I are ten years apart, and I can’t imagine being distanced from her. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“I think I like our evolved dynamic,” I say, and he smiles.
“Me too. Are you really planning to search for Vasu when you’re in India?”
“I have to find out what happened to her. You can’t tell Aie and Ma. I can’t handle them being involved.”
“Does that mean I can blackmail you for favors?” His eyes are shining with warmth.
I think mine might be too. “I’m already taking the trip with them by myself and doing all your shopping for you. I thought you were favored out.”
“Not the favors I had in mind.”
I blush again, and he smiles.
“Will the journalist be there?”
“No,” I say. “I think he’s done with the story.”