Chapter 27
chapter 27
I don’t owe you shit.
Beads of sweat snaking into his eyes, Dev gritted his teeth and jabbed the speed up on the treadmill. But it didn’t help. Since starting his run forty minutes ago, he’d been steadily increasing his pace, but between the pounding of his feet and the punishing slide of the running belt below, the words wouldn’t go away.
I don’t owe you shit.
When Naomi had hurled those words at him, they had drilled themselves into his brain and had been churning ever since. Dev didn’t feel she owed him anything, but the question of why she hadn’t trusted him enough with such an important part of herself haunted his thoughts and, try as he might, he couldn’t outrun them.
With her, he had felt like a better version of himself, but she hadn’t seen that. She had only seen someone who might turn on her or judge her for the slightest misstep. Someone she could spend time with in or out of the bedroom but not someone to trust.
And while that shredded his insides to bits, he couldn’t help but be a little in awe of her: What must it be like to live your life with the confidence that you didn’t owe anybody anything?
No family reputations to uphold, no demanding mothers to appease. No community to impress simply because you, more or less, shared the same ancestral country?
“Ahem,” said a loud voice.
Dev’s head snapped up to see Veera Auntie standing beside his treadmill, brows raised high enough to alert him that she’d been there for quite some time. He slowed his pace to a light jog while glancing around, half expecting to see his mother and aunt in eavesdropping distance.
Thankfully, it was just the two of them.
“I think we need to have a chat,” the matchmaker said, her eyes pointedly skimming the length of the treadmill.
Dev resisted the urge to stop the machine and tightened his jaw. “I’m not done with my run.”
Veera considered him for a long moment before circling around to the empty treadmill to his right. Her face set in determination, she hiked up the skirt of her beige sari and gingerly stepped onto the machine. She frowned at the panel for a moment before increasing the speed by three beeps.
“Your mother said I would find you here,” she said conversationally, her hands gripping the safety handrail as she began her snail’s pace workout. “I might as well get my money’s worth. Eighteen dollars for a day pass! Can you believe it?”
At the sight of the blue veins in her wrinkled hands, Dev felt a twinge of guilt. “I can reimburse you.”
Veera sniffed, the pallu of her sari swinging behind her. “A matchmaker’s job is not for the weak-willed. Why don’t you slow down so we can chat? You don’t have to prove your stamina to me .”
Once Dev had complied, she continued. “I think we’re overdue for a check-in.” When Dev didn’t reply, she shook her head. “For a few weeks now, I’ve been racking my brain as to why a handsome boy like you, with nice manners, a good job, and”—Veera politely glanced at the ring of sweat around the collar of Dev’s shirt—“an interest in physical activity hasn’t been able to successfully find a match, but the spectacle at the Diwali party clued me in. You had failed to inform me that you already had a girlfriend.”
“I didn’t. I don’t.”
“You’re not the first client to have a secret relationship, you know. What do they call it? A ‘side dish’?”
The current of heat flooding Dev’s neck had nothing to do with physical exertion. “I don’t have a side di—I mean, a secret relationship.”
“Mmm, yes. It was clear that whatever was going on was more than just an extra helping of chutney, if you know what I mean.”
Christ. Dev tilted his chin upward, wondering where the nearest air-conditioning vent was situated, because if Veera Auntie planned to continue down this line of bro talk, he would need it on full blast.
“I wish you had told me, though,” Veera added. “We could have saved ourselves a lot of time.”
“I’m sorry I wasted your time. But if you recall, I was against this matchmaking idea from the start.”
“Oh, no, dear, we still would have proceeded with finding you a potential wife. I just would have scheduled this check-in much sooner.”
Dev swallowed a derisive snort; this felt more like an ambush. “Auntie, I don’t want to get married…” He trailed off. Funny how the familiar phrase sounded hollow to his ears now. The conviction that being alone was a foolproof method of avoiding living his parents’ life without sacrificing his relationship with his family was no longer lodged deep in his chest.
Because he’d gotten a glimpse of what lifelong friendship and lighthearted teasing could feel like. Had experienced how casual, affectionate touch could awaken every single nerve ending. Dev had basked in the comfort of being part of a team, the opulence of relying on someone having his back whether he asked or not. It had all filled him with the kind of warmth he never thought was possible for a guy like him.
He was addicted and damn tired of acting like he didn’t need it.
“Auntie,” Dev tried again, his tongue thick and slow on the uptake, “maybe I don’t want to marry the kind of woman my mother has preapproved for me. Maybe my list of must-haves are different than hers.”
“You aren’t the first person to feel this way, Dev.” Veera’s voice was kind but firm. “But young people don’t think too far ahead when it comes to dating. They want someone they like spending time with, who makes them feel happy and attractive and special.”
And that’s a bad thing?
“But marriage is not dating. When a couple marries, everything changes. Things that might have not mattered will suddenly mean the world to both of you: life goals, expectations, family structures, children…” Veera trailed off and reduced the speed of her treadmill to zero. “Your mother is thinking about those complex matters and trying to improve your odds.”
“I always assumed that marriage required compromise,” Dev said, slapping his hand on the emergency stop button on his machine. His mother, after all, had capitulated to all her husband’s wishes.
“Yes, it does. But it is not a bad thing for some things to line up between two people from the get-go. After all, how much can a person compromise in their life?” Veera’s smile was patient. “I don’t want to discourage you. I’m trying to explain that everything your mother and I are doing is meant to help you have a successful partnership with someone special.”
Dev tipped his water bottle to his lips to hide his eye roll. It was hard to buy into the “someone special” line when said someones were reduced to one-page data sheets and a picture.
“And perhaps, if you feel very strongly that your mother’s ideas for what you need in a life partner are wrong, then you should tell her so.”
Dev scoffed. Because that had gone so well for him already.
“But remember,” Veera added, peering at him over her glasses with a piercing stare. “Dating and having fun barely scratch the surface of what it means to be married. So instead of focusing on what puzzle pieces fit together right now, think about the big picture. What is going to keep those pieces locked together for the rest of your life?”
Veera sure knew how to make a strong case for arranged marriage. And while she was right that he had no idea what life would throw at him and his future wife, he knew with absolute certainty that he didn’t want to weather the storm with any of the smart, accomplished women Veera Auntie had tried to set him up with.
He could appreciate the big picture; hell, for the first time in his life, he wanted to work toward it, matrimonial fire and all. But he also knew what he needed so the smaller parts of the whole stayed fused together, strong and resilient in the face of life’s trials. He needed warmth, casual affection, and an easy laugh teasing him out of a bad mood. Someone compassionate enough to stuff chewed-up food in his pockets to save an old woman’s feelings and open-minded enough to try new things and embrace the parts of him that were complicated and tedious. He wanted a luminous, curly-haired goddess who was brave enough to go against the grain and call him out when he wasn’t.
The future might be uncertain, but Dev had never felt more certain about anything—or anyone—in his life. He needed someone who brought the best out of him and loved him even when he was a grump.
And while his mother might not like it, might turn her back on a relationship that didn’t check the right boxes, it wasn’t Gia’s approval Dev was interested in anymore.
When Dev returned to the bazaar from the gym, he knew Naomi wouldn’t be there. It had been three days since Diwali, and even though they had planned a soft opening at the end of the week—with a guest list of family and close friends—Naomi had kept out of sight.
But she was still getting the job done, using Nick to complete the last finishing touches that the casual observer might not even notice but that were so undeniably Naomi, they made Dev’s heart clench. Custom-printed napkins in a peacock design, a tiny plastic kitchen set pushed up against a wall so kids could “play” café in the café, and, Dev’s favorite, a framed picture of a pregnant Gia standing in front of the bazaar around thirty years ago, looking unsure and nervous for what waited ahead. In the background, a young Neel was a blur as he ran out of the frame. Clutching Gia’s hand was a two-year-old Dev, half hidden behind her leg, staring solemnly at the photographer. Beside the photograph, Nick had mounted a short origin story, also framed, about a newly married newcomer to Canada who had inadvertently created a sense of community in a bazaar selling everything from imported incense sticks to brown Jesus keychains.
Throwing a hoodie over his sweaty shirt, Dev stepped out of his vehicle to see Naomi’s mother standing outside the bazaar, her loose genie pants flapping in the wind.
Was she here to wring his neck? Slap him for allowing his mother to talk down at her daughter? But when he caught a glimpse of the New Age crystal pendant hanging around her neck, Dev slowed his gait. Maybe she wanted to assess the bazaar’s spiritual energy.
The only thing that he really cared about was if Naomi was nearby.
Sue must have guessed as much because her face was apologetic. “I came alone. Can we talk?”
He answered by slipping past her and unlocking the bazaar door. Once Sue had stepped inside, he gestured to a nearby table. “Have a seat.”
Sue was busy looking around. “The energy in here is unreal.”
With a half smile, Dev glanced around, too. Even though he had helped revitalize the space every step of the way, the results still impressed him. But as far as “energy” went, it was an empty café, devoid of pastries, tea, or customers. Unsure of how to respond, he gestured to the table again.
Sue waited until Dev had joined her at the table before folding her hands together on the table. “Naomi told me everything.”
Dev couldn’t help shoot a quick glance at the ceiling, where the bed he and Naomi had spent many, many hours was right above them. When he looked back at Sue, she raised her eyebrows.
“I know everything , Dev.”
Dev cleared his throat uneasily and stared at the tabletop. Sue didn’t seem like the traditional Bengali mother who would try to castrate him for sleeping with her daughter, but he was suddenly very grateful he knew where the first-aid kit was stored behind the counter.
“She’s still hurt, you know. And angry with you.”
Dev’s gaze flew up. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”
Unruffled, Sue cocked her head to the side. “No, but I can sense the heaviness inside you, too. Your aura is bleak.”
“You don’t say.”
Sue flattened her palms against the table and looked at Dev with such earnestness that, despite himself, he sat up straight in his chair and took notice. “My daughter lied to you, and while responsibility for that mistake falls on her shoulders alone, you should know where that lie comes from.”
Dev shifted impatiently in his seat. His mother had already filled him—and Aashi—in on the conversation she had endured with Sue while Naomi and Dev had been outside the community center shredding each other to bits. Sue had revealed that she’d moved her family to another province to get away from people like Gia, and while the comment had offended and baffled his mother, Dev had put the pieces together.
“I know you moved to Alberta to get away from your family,” he said.
“I didn’t just do it to get away from my family. I didn’t want to have anything to do with them anymore, to do with any of the members of the community. And I think…I think you can understand what that might feel like.”
At Dev’s imperceptible nod, Sue sighed. “I thought going the other way would make things easier for me. For Naomi. I wanted to provide her with everything I didn’t have while growing up: the freedom to make my own choices, no forced ties to a culture I didn’t embrace. No gossipy community members looking down on me for not doing what was expected of me.” Sue’s smile was bittersweet. “It never occurred to me that my daughter would want to learn about those things—that the culture might mean something for her. I guess, in trying to protect her from it, I took away the freedom for her to choose.”
“Wait.” Dev’s mind raced. “You never talked about your culture? Your upbringing? You never exposed her to other Bengali people?” Having been immersed in his parents’ culture his entire life, Dev couldn’t begin to imagine the picture Sue was painting for him.
Sue ducked her head. “Aside from maybe ranting about them and all the injustices I lived through, not really. I thought I was doing what was best. It was selfish, too, I guess. I didn’t want to revisit the past.” Sue paused and her gaze wandered over Dev’s shoulder. “Maybe I was afraid she’d want the things I ran away from. That she’d run away from me as a result. I tried to control her.” Realization flashed across Sue’s face and she chuckled. “Kind of ironic, huh?”
Dev wasn’t about to touch that with a ten-foot-pole and decided to change direction instead. “But why would she lie to me about it? To everyone else, I get it. But why me ?” He could barely croak the last words around the giant lump that had formed in his throat.
Sue reached forward to hold his hand, and while the multiple rings on her fingers shifted uncomfortably against his skin, he was grateful for the contact. “I can’t say for sure, Dev. I raised a very independent, fix-everything-herself, ambitious girl. And I love her for it. But she’s not used to sharing burdens, relying on others for help and security. She didn’t have the same support system you probably grew up with.”
Naomi’s claim that she “wasn’t Bengali, not really ” replayed in Dev’s mind, but for the first time, curiosity surfaced above the hurt and betrayal he usually felt when his mind revisited that horrible night. At the time, in the height of his humiliation, it had sounded like an empty excuse for her dishonesty. He had failed to understand that for someone like Naomi, who refused to accept that there were problems she could not overcome, her lack of ties to Bengali culture would be a serious source of shame. Especially next to his family, next to Gia, who cared so much about culture and reminders of home, she was oblivious to what was in front of her.
Because feeling Bengali wasn’t something a person could fake or bluster their way through. Because he was a first-generation Canadian, everything Dev knew about his culture was passed down to him from someone else. Thanks to his parents, he was grounded in it. Sure, sometimes it was ugly, but it was beautiful sometimes, too, and he had access to it.
He had failed to be her support system when she had needed it most, probably confirming everything Sue had ever warned her about the community. She had stood in front of him, secrets bared, asking him to look past the shame and injustices that haunted her, and he had thrown it back in her face. He’d allowed his wounded pride to get in the way of what was really important: She wanted him to love her in return. Unconditionally.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?” As soon as the curse word fell from his lips, Dev winced. He had never sworn in front of a Bengali elder before.
But Sue’s answering smile was sympathetic. “You both did. But if I’ve learned anything from Naomi, there’s always a way to fix things.”
Dev studied Naomi’s mother, trying to look past the crystal necklace and colorful headband holding back her hair. He’d never met someone like her, or anyone, who had left the community, whether voluntarily or by force. He’d heard rumors of it, but the fate of said person was only whispered about, usually from adult to child as a one-way lesson on the dangers of straying from the right path.
He had to ask. “Do you ever regret leaving it all behind? Risking your relationship with your family to pursue what you wanted?”
For several unblinking seconds, Sue stared at Dev as a myriad of emotions warred over her face. “I miss my family. I miss some of our traditions. But I did what I thought was best at the time—best for my daughter and for me—and I can’t regret that. It may be too late for me to fix the mistakes of my past, but…” There was a flash in Sue’s eyes and in it, Dev saw a piece of Naomi: the indomitable optimism that baffled him while drawing him closer, even when he tried to resist.
Sue’s flair for drama was all her own, though, and she made him wait several seconds before grinning at him with a smile that was identical to Naomi’s. “I think there’s still hope for you.”