Chapter 12
This town—like every small town we’ve driven through on this trip—is beautiful, but that’s the only silver lining of the past few hours because the garage doesn’t have the parts we need, and they’re not sure when they’ll get them.
The rental company called around to other local garages, but they all confirmed that these parts need to be ordered and will take at least a day to arrive.
We decided to stop and eat something before we figure out our next steps. The mechanic recommended a small shop only a short walk from the garage.
Jacob’s sandwiched between my father and me as we head there, but we both notice the way my father’s breathing changes just a few feet from the restaurant, growing labored and loud. He coughs, and his face looks paler than usual.
“Dad?”
“Uncle, are you—”
He coughs again, shaking his head. “I’m okay. I just need some water.”
Jacob and I exchange a worried look. Once we’re inside, he helps my father to a table by the window while I buy some water and order a couple sandwiches at the front counter.
A few minutes later, Jacob comes to stand beside me as we wait for the food to be ready. “He’s overexerting himself,” Jacob says quietly.
“You think it’s his blood pressure or—”
“No, he says his pressure is probably fine. His pulse was high, but he thinks it’s from stress. He’s doing some breathing exercises now.”
We both glance over at my dad. His eyes are closed, one hand on his chest as he breathes deeply.
“Do you think he’s right? You think it’s anything more serious than that?” I ask.
“He’s the doctor. I’m sure he knows.” Jacob lets out a long breath. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on him.”
The sandwiches come out with thick, hot chips served on the side, and Jacob helps me carry everything back to the table.
I pass my father the curried chicken and push the plate with the jeely piece in Jacob’s direction.
His eyes soften when he sees it, and when my father’s not looking, distracted by his own meal, Jacob mouths a silent thank you.
Warmth spreads through my chest.
We look up the bus schedule on our phones and realize we’ll have to do a bus-train-bus combo tomorrow morning, because it’s too late for anything to leave from here now.
In total, it’ll take longer than a direct drive there, but when I look at my dad, at the clear exhaustion on his face, I think that spending the night here and giving him a chance to rest is probably a good idea anyway.
Besides, I don’t think we’re in the same hurry as before, now that we know that Maggie’s safe and at least physically okay.
“Have you talked to Maggie since the car broke down?” I ask Jacob.
He swallows his bite of bread and jam and nods. “I sent her a text when the car stalled. Told her we’d take longer than an hour, but that we’d keep her updated. I should tell her we won’t be getting there tonight after all.”
He dials her number, and while Jacob talks to her, I check my flight information on my phone. There’s no world in which I’m getting back to Aberdeen in time for my return flight. I push it back another two days.
Jacob fills Maggie in on the car situation and tells her that we’ll be able to get there tomorrow via the bus and train, but she says something that makes him stop.
“You—you want to talk to Ajit?” Jacob asks.
He looks at my father, who’s wearing an identical expression of surprise.
“Sure, that’s—yeah,” he says. “I’ll pass it to him now.”
My father takes the phone from him, his eyes bouncing between the two of us, then he gets up and steps outside. He doesn’t go too far, though; Jacob and I can still watch him through the glass door.
“Do you know what she wants to talk to him about?” I ask.
“Not a clue.”
We eat quietly for a moment, then Jacob clears his throat. “This was nice,” he says. “The jeely piece.”
“I’m glad.”
“Something familiar even though we’re someplace new,” he says. “I get it now.”
I go still. I think this might be the first time he’s intentionally referenced that night we spent together, quoting what I said about ordering Caesar salad everywhere I go.
“And I understand the appeal of the jeely piece now,” I say, lifting my own. “It’s comforting.”
“It is.” The corners of his mouth tilt up, and there’s a smear of red jelly beneath his bottom lip. He must feel it, though, or notice me staring at it, because he wipes it away with a paper napkin before I can say anything.
“He looks better now that he’s eaten something,” Jacob says, inclining his head toward the window.
I follow his gaze, watching my father. He’s hunched over slightly, half turned away. I can’t tell whether he’s hearing good or bad news.
“I think so too,” I say. I polish off the rest of my sandwich, crumbs accidentally falling on the table. I sweep them away into my open palm. “I don’t know too much about his health situation. I only know what he’s told me, but he’s been doing okay, right? Since the surgery?”
The soft curve of Jacob’s mouth flattens. “Yes,” he says, his voice and posture stiff. “He’s been fine.”
Fine. That same answer, as if my father’s instructed Jacob not to say anything more or share anything real about him. As if they’ve made some silent pact to keep me at arm’s length.
“Good,” I say, but my voice sounds just as hard and unnatural as his.
A minute later, my father returns. He runs a hand over his thinning hair, then passes the phone back to Jacob.
“We should find a place to check in for the night,” my dad says.
Jacob’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t ask any questions, and my father doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t give any hint about what he and Maggie spoke about.
“All right,” I say, pulling out my phone and looking up hotels. “I’ll look for a place for us to stay.” When I search the name of the town, there are only two options, so I book the one closest to us, an inn only a few minutes away.
—
The inn is completely unoccupied tonight, so we’re able to book three rooms, all of us finally getting some much-needed space from one another. My father says he’s going to turn in early, and I head up to my room to take a long shower.
After I’m done, I wrap one towel around my head and another around my body and call my mom.
She answers quickly. “Neelu!”
I’m homesick just from the sound of her warm, excited voice.
“Mom! I miss you.”
“I miss you too. How was the wedding?”
I laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed. “So, funny story, I’m still in Scotland.” I fill her in on all the mishaps of the past couple days, though I leave out the details of the one-night stand.
“And none of you know why Maggie did this? She hasn’t said anything?” my mom asks.
“No, but—” I stop and let out a long breath. “It’s possible I had a role in it. I got a little drunk at the rehearsal dinner and started saying some stuff about Dad.”
“Stuff like?”
“Stuff I shouldn’t have told a bride the night before her wedding. Stuff about how Dad basically left me alone, kept to himself. Though I know it wasn’t just me. I know he did that to you too.”
My mom’s quiet for a long moment. “Neelu, you know that I left him. I made the choice to come to the U.S.”
“Oh, Mom, not this again. You had to go. It was for school, and he should have understood that. He should have gone with you. There was no reason he had to stay here, he could have—”
“He needed to stay behind for work,” my mom says.
I scoff. “I’ve never understood that. As if we don’t need doctors in the U.S.”
“Foreign graduates have a much harder time finding work,” she says, as she’s told me many times before. “He was only getting offers in small, rural areas, and they were nothing like the position he had there. Plus, he would have still been far away, nowhere close to us in L.A.”
“He would have been in the same country, at least!”
“Neelu,” my mom says, her voice soft. “You know it wasn’t just me moving that caused all of this. Your dad and I were having problems anyway. Even if he had come with us, we’d likely still have split.”
“I know,” I say. But maybe if he’d been in the U.S., I’d have seen him more often. Maybe he would have tried harder to be a part of my life.
I sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring all of this back up again. How are you doing? How’s Bobby?”
My mom tells me all about the latest trip they took to Yellowstone.
She and Bobby—her husband—decided to spend their first year of retirement visiting every national park, and they’re starting with the greats.
They did Yosemite a few months ago and just came back from Yellowstone last week.
They’re not huge hikers, but they love driving around, looking for animals.
We never traveled much when I was growing up. My mother worked a lot of overtime to provide for us, and we didn’t have a lot of extra funds to spend on vacations. I’m happy she’s able to do it now.
“It’s early for elk bugling,” my mom says, “but we still heard them. Saw some of them too. I’ll send you a couple videos!”
“Please do.”
“What’s your travel schedule look like for this season? Any chance you’d want to join us at Zion next month?”
“We’re still undecided about where we’re shooting,” I say.
“Natalie’s been emailing me places and we’re reviewing packages.
It’s just all so…uninspiring.” Even when we go somewhere new, the locations look the same.
Ocean and beach and sky. We never get to explore more than that.
“I’m enjoying the Highlands, actually,” I tell my mom.
“It’s different from anywhere I get to go. ”
“Maybe Bobby and I will plan a trip there soon.”
“You should. Oh, and you’ll love this. We saw so many sheep all over the road. I’ll send you the pictures.”
We talk some more about nothing in particular. The same show we’re both binge-watching, mild celebrity gossip, plans to get dinner together when I’m back.
“So, how long are you going to be there?” my mom asks.