Chapter Fourteen
Ravi leaves for the book club fifteen minutes later than usual.
Suresh is home with a migraine, so Ravi picks Mia up from day care even though it isn’t his turn.
When he returns, he finds Suresh on the couch with a pained furrow in his brow that deepens when Mia climbs on top of him.
Ravi offers to stay back, but Suresh insists he’ll be fine.
And, well, even though he still looks pained, his smile when Mia kisses his forehead and says “It’ll be better now, Daddy” is genuine.
On his way to Northwest Portland, Ravi listens to the final cut of the new episode again.
He’s not sure why he does it at first—he looks through other podcasts and playlists while he waits at the bus stop, but very little catches his interest, and nothing holds it.
It’s already there in his downloaded files, and without really thinking about it, he hits play.
Halfway across the bridge, though, he realizes he’s looking for clues. Trying to marry the sound and cadence of Podcast Elle with the voice whispering over the phone two weeks ago so he can piece together what the real her would be like.
A pointless effort, because the reality is she doesn’t want him to know. When he offered to call again last night, she’d been skittish, and he hadn’t pressed. But he had wanted to.
He stares down at the tie-dyed pants folded in the Trader Joe’s canvas bag (both freshly laundered) on his lap. Maybe that’s part of it, too. He wants to remind himself of the person he can’t have so he doesn’t think about the person he shouldn’t want.
After a week of clear skies, it’s raining again, and in his rush to leave the house, Ravi pulls the lined denim jacket off the hook by the door instead of digging in the closet for his rain shell.
A quick glance at the TransitTracker app tells him that the streetcar has the worst delay Ravi’s seen since moving to Portland, so he opts to walk instead and arrives at Kennedy with wet marks on his shoulders and water from his hair dripping down his forehead.
Sherine stares disapprovingly over her reading glasses at him while he signs in.
As if he’d chosen to show up like this in order to inconvenience her, personally.
As he pushes open the door to the library, he tries to shake some of the water out of his hair, but all that does is make a rivulet of rain trail from his hairline to his brow. He combs it back with his fingers, finally accepting that unkempt and out of the way is better than the alternative.
“Nice of you to join us,” Yael says from the already populated circle of chairs. He’s always hated being the last one to arrive somewhere, how it makes everyone stare at him.
“What’d I miss?” he asks, approaching his seat.
Her brows lift briefly. “Zoe would like us to skip ahead to adult romance.”
“But we still haven’t read The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School,” Ravi says. He withdraws his notebook from the bag, then tucks it under his chair so nobody can see what’s inside.
“THANK YOU!” JQ says, slapping their hands on their knees.
Zoe frowns at Ravi, and he can’t help but laugh. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to take sides. I was just excited for that one.”
“See, Ravi wants to read it, so we can’t skip,” JQ says.
“Please don’t make this my fault,” Ravi says. He scans the circle, disappointed when he doesn’t find Leo.
“But we’ve been reading so much YA contemporary!” Zoe says. “I am a contemporary young adult; I don’t need to read about it all the time.”
JQ narrows their eyes at her. “I thought you said that every book we’ve read is amazing.”
“That’s not the point.” Zoe pouts.
“Okay,” Yael interrupts, face stern. “It’s almost Halloween, why don’t we have a brief break for some Chuck Tingle?”
Zoe’s jaw drops in delight. “Really?!”
“I ordered us a few copies of Camp Damascus, Zoe,” Yael says. “Not his erotica.”
“But Ladybuck on Ladybuck looks so funny!”
Ravi laughs into his hand, and Yael throws her hands in the air. “I swear, you are all trying to get me fired,” she says, amusement in her eyes.
“I could do horror,” Eli says. Jackson, whose legs are draped over Eli’s lap, nods in agreement.
“Me too,” Ravi says.
The corner of Yael’s lips quirks. “You sure? N. K. Jemisin called Camp Damascus ‘a genuinely terrifying nightmare,’” she says.
“I’ll ask someone to hold my hand through the scariest parts,” Ravi says, earning a few scattered snickers from around the circle.
Yael stands. “Alright, well, we’re gonna have to share copies for this one, or you’ll have to get some from Multnomah County Library.
We’re a little thin on book club funds, and this doesn’t really fit within the bounds of the normal Kennedy Library catalog.
” Ravi thinks he hears a little bitterness in her words.
She walks off, presumably to retrieve the books, and every pair of eyes in the room lands on Ravi. He reaches for a sip from his water bottle.
“Are you and Ms. Koenig together?” Ana asks.
Half the water goes into Ravi’s airway, and Ravi coughs violently. “I’m sorry, what?” he wheezes out.
“She’s asking if you and Ms. Koenig are dating,” Eli says.
Ravi coughs once more. “No, I got that,” he says. “I don’t think you should be asking me this.”
“I told you they were together,” Jackson says.
“We’re not together! I just don’t think it’s appropriate to ask me or Yael about our love lives.”
“Yael,” JQ repeats, and there are a couple of answering “Oohs.”
“Ms. Koenig,” Ravi amends.
“Why do you call her Yael?”
“Because I’m thirty years old. And not her student,” he says. Christ, how long can it possibly take to get a couple of books? He looks to the office for any sign of her, but the door is barely ajar and the single window is almost entirely obscured by boxes.
“Are you dating anybody, then?” Zoe asks.
“As I said, you should not be asking me about my love life,” Ravi says. Yael emerges, books in hand, and Ravi looks at her like save me.
“Sorry it took me so long,” she says. “I lost them under a different pile of books. I trust things haven’t descended into madness in my absence?”
“They’re eating me alive,” Ravi says.
A slow smile. “Good.”
Many looks are exchanged among the students, and Ravi wants to tell Yael that she isn’t helping their case, but he knows that would only make things worse.
“Alright, dramatic reading time,” Yael says, doling out the books. “If it does end up being too upsetting for anybody, you can tell me in confidence tomorrow and we’ll pick something else.”
Ravi doesn’t take one of the copies, nor does he want to crowd over three students to read along, so as Yael reads the first page, he just listens. And watches.
That crease in her bottom lip, the way she can so convincingly fry and pitch her voice to match the twenty-year-old protagonist. The lines of her crossed legs under her long floral-patterned skirt, the bounce of her foot in her (also floral-patterned) boot.
Her fingers tucking that beaded braid she always has in her hair behind her ear.
She finishes reading, and he’s slow to look away. Slower than he should be, not as slow as he wants to be. Her eyes meet his, and he simmers under her gaze.
After the club, Ravi helps Yael put the library back together, as always. A few of the students linger by the doorway, so on one of Ravi’s trips to retrieve a chair, he steps closer to her and, in a low voice, says, “What is the least suspicious way for me to return clothing to you?”
“Library office. After they leave,” Yael says.
He gives a single nod and gets back to it without a second glance her way.
When he next looks up, she’s halfway to the office, looking right at him. She tilts her head, a clear You coming? gesture. Ravi bends to grab the bag and follows her inside, shutting the door behind him.
There’s not a lot of room to stand. The space isn’t all that large to begin with, and most of it is taken up by two oversize desks, one pushed against the windowed wall and piled with open cardboard boxes, the other in the middle of the room and piled with papers. They end up almost toe-to-toe.
“I know, I know,” Yael says, grimacing. “I like to keep everything out there nice for the students, even the checkout counter. So, this becomes my catchall storage zone.”
“I wasn’t judging,” Ravi says. “The leaning tower of cardboard boxes gives us a lot of privacy.”
She rolls her eyes, but she also laughs a little. “Okay, hand it over.”
“Why does it feel like we’re doing a weed deal?” Ravi asks.
Yael scoffs. “I’d never buy from you.”
“I don’t look like a trustworthy dealer? I’m offended. I think I’d be good at it,” Ravi says.
“I wouldn’t know. It’s been legal here for, like, a decade.”
He hands her the bag, and Yael peers inside it. “I washed them. The bag, too. Thank you for lending them to me.”
“Thank you for getting there first,” she says. “Otherwise, it would’ve been on my dress, and that was a lot thinner than your jeans.”
Ravi swallows thickly, remembering that dress and how she looked in it. What he could just barely make out under those diner lights. Yael seems to realize what she’s said; her teeth rake over her bottom lip, and she looks away. Ravi clears his throat. “What was the deal with the books tonight?”
“Hmm?” She makes eye contact again.
“You said you were thin on funds. Is there a way I could donate?”
Her expression sobers. “We’re not, actually. Principal Harrison technically manages the grant I got, and she denied the request because Chuck Tingle also writes erotica. She is concerned about ‘how it might look,’” Yael air quotes.
“I’ll buy a few more copies,” Ravi says.
Yael looks surprised but quickly masks it. “Thank you,” she says.
Ravi nods, opening his mouth to say goodbye before realizing there’s something else he wanted to ask. He rubs at the back of his head, hesitating. “Do you, em, know where Leo was tonight?”
“Oh.” Yael’s face falls. “Super grounded. No extracurriculars until next week, no social stuff for another two after that.”