CHAPTER 3
Dilvan
“Hello, Mother,” Dilvan said, greeting Padma at the front door with a warm hug.
Even though he was furious about her decision to basically force him to marry Gabrielle, he still loved and respected his mother very much.
There were always ways around her control tactics.
He wasn’t going to let the marriage nail him down or make him change.
“Hi, son,” Padma responded, kissing her son on the cheek.
His parents lived about a mile away. Padma made it a custom to visit every Tuesday for breakfast. Even though she lived so close, she respected her son’s privacy and wouldn’t intrude or show up at his place unannounced.
Tuesday mornings were her time to catch up with him and Gabrielle – to make sure things were in order.
“I brought Tyson along to watch after the house while you’re away for a few days,” she told him, since he was leaving for Santa Monica in the morning for a photo shoot, and wouldn’t be returning until Sunday night.
His cousin Tyson had volunteered to take care of Dilvan’s house while he was gone as a favor to Padma.
He did no favors for Dilvan. In fact, he couldn’t stand him.
So what if they were first cousins? He always found his behavior just as appalling as it was questionable, and all the while, his family seemed to turn a blind eye to it.
Watching Tyson get out of his silver Range Rover with a gym bag, Dilvan said, “Mother, you know I don’t need Tyson to stay here. Beatrice looks after the house just fine while I’m out of town. And Gabrielle will be here.”
She raised a brow. “Gabrielle is not going with you?”
“No. She doesn’t like traveling,” he told her. Of course it was a lie. He didn’t want her traveling with him.
Padma said, “And Beatrice doesn’t do maintenance things. What if a pipe bursts?”
“A pipe is not going to burst.”
“Okay, well, who’s going to cut your grass, clean the pool, or take care of urgent company matters while you’re running off taking half-naked pictures of yourself for the world to see, Dilvan?”
Dilvan wordlessly shook his head at his mother’s lack of respect for his career. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, she reminded him how his brothers chose to join the family business full-time while he was pursuing a career in which his goods had to be on display to sell some drawls.
“Mother, you know I hire people to do those things. I don’t need Ty—”
“Are we just going to stand at the door, or are you going to invite me in, son?”
He took her by the hand. “Please, come in, Mother.”
Padma walked in wearing a long, flower-printed dress, and gold gladiator sandals. She strolled to the dining room while Dilvan remained at the door, waiting to greet Tyson as he took his time up the walkway.
“Well, hello, my darling, Gabrielle,” Padma said. “Don’t you look lovely?”
Gabrielle stood up and embraced her mother-in-law.
Dilvan walked back into the room with Tyson in tow.
“Gabrielle, have you met Tyson?” Padma asked.
Gabrielle glanced up at him for a split second and dropped her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she breathed. “If I have, please forgive me.”
“Okay, well, this is Dilvan’s cousin, Tyson.”
Without looking up at him, Gabrielle mumbled, “Nice to meet you, Tyson.”
Tyson frowned. How could it be so nice to meet him when she wouldn’t even look at him?
Maybe she was shy. Or perhaps the girl didn’t have all her screws, especially to be married to a man like Dilvan Alexander.
What woman in her right mind would be linked up with a man like him?
Cousin or no cousin – he had no loyalties to him, and in his opinion, Dilvan wasn’t suited to be with a blow-up doll, let alone a real woman.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Tyson responded.
They all gathered around the table. Padma took a basket of roti – leavened flatbread cut into small round pieces – from the center of the table. It was a Sri Lankan-style of bread made with wheat flour, grated coconut, onions and green chilies.
Dilvan made sure Gabrielle sat across from him so that if she attempted to say anything out of line, he could easily keep her in check by kicking her beneath the table.
“So, how’s everything going, Gabrielle?” Padma asked her, all smiles like she expected her to be blissfully in love.
“Um–” Gabrielle began.
“Everything is fine, Mother,” Dilvan interrupted, answering for his wife like he always did.
Tyson looked at Gabrielle, then back to Dilvan when he said, “I believe Aunt Padma was talking to Gabrielle. Weren’t you talking to Gabrielle, Aunt P?”
“I was. How are you, Gabrielle?”
Gabrielle was quiet for a moment. She didn’t know how to answer her mother-in-law. She wanted so badly to tell her the truth – that Dilvan was impossible to live with, but she’d pay a price for telling the truth.
Annoyed by her silence, Dilvan kicked her in the shin beneath the table, which startled her and took her out of a trance.
“Everything’s fine,” Gabrielle finally replied, then took a spoonful of grits to her mouth.
“You sure?” Padma asked.
“Mmm hmm,” Gabrielle mumbled.
“Tyson,” Dilvan cut in. “I was telling Mother you don’t have to house-sit for me. Beatrice is going to be here, and so is Gabrielle.”
“Why aren’t you taking Gabrielle to Santa Monica with you again?” Padma asked, her black eyebrows raised. Then she turned to Gabrielle and asked, “Gabrielle, you didn’t want to go, dear?”
“Gabrielle is busy doing other things,” Dilvan said. “Besides, she’s like you, Mother. She has no interest in my career.”
Tyson glanced at Gabrielle. This was the second time Dilvan spoke for her as if she were incapable.
Padma glanced over at Dilvan, then back over to Gabrielle.
She noticed Gabrielle hadn’t raised her head or made eye contact with anyone at the table.
And why was Dilvan trying to answer questions that she was directing specifically to Gabrielle?
Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was definitely something.
“He’s right, Padma,” Gabrielle said. “Besides, I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
Dilvan kicked her again, harder this time, causing her to grimace and jump at the same time.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Padma asked, dropping her eating utensils.
“It’s…it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Mother, will you stop?” Dilvan asked. “Prasad has given you two grandkids already, and if that isn’t enough, then you better hope Heshan decides to have kids because I’m definitely not having kids. My life is too complex to bring kids into the picture.”
What he really meant was, he didn’t want to have kids with Gabrielle. He wanted children. He wasn’t about to have any with a woman he didn’t want. A woman he wasn’t attracted to.
Padma shook her head. “Dilvan, you can’t single-handedly decide you don’t want children. Is this something you’ve discussed with Gabrielle?”
“Of course. Gabrielle agrees with me. She doesn’t want kids either, right Gabrielle?”
Gabrielle nodded with her head down.
“Speak up so she can hear you,” Dilvan told her.
“That’s right, Mrs. Padma. I–I don’t want children.”
Tyson’s brows furrowed once again. Man, something wasn’t right with this girl.
She looked scared. Looked like a woman who’s suffered abuse, and she probably had.
He knew Dilvan’s reputation. His psycho cousin had a mean streak straight from Satan himself.
Even he avoided him when they were teenagers and opted to hang out with Dilvan’s brothers instead – normal people – Heshan and Prasad.
Dilvan was…Dilvan. He was a man who would probably benefit from medication, but his ego wouldn’t allow him to take anything.
That would be admitting that something was wrong.
And there wasn’t a thing wrong with him. He was perfect –or so he thought.
Deciding to find out more about their situation, Tyson asked, “So, Gabrielle, how did you and Dilvan meet?”
“I put them together,” Padma interjected.
It seemed no one was letting Gabrielle talk for herself tonight.
Padma added, “They have an arranged marriage, and I arranged them.”
“Why?” Tyson asked. His father and mother were black, so he wasn’t too familiar with the customs of his aunt and cousins.
“It’s tradition.”
“But it’s not required,” Tyson said, seeking more clarification.
“No, it’s not. It’s what the parents see fit.”
“Oh,” Tyson responded with raised brows, completely taken aback by this. “Didn’t realize people did this in the United States.”
“Yeah. It’s becoming more common here,” Padma advised.
“How long have you guys been married?” Tyson asked, looking at Gabrielle.
“Six months,” Gabrielle replied softly.
“How is it? Being newlyweds?” Tyson inquired.
“It’s fine,” Dilvan said.
“Yeah,” Gabrielle spoke up quickly. “It’s fine.”
Tyson knew better. If it was so fine, why did she look like she was under duress?
He said, “I suppose you’re still getting to know each other, you know, with it being an arranged marriage and all.”
“That’s a never-ending process, Tyson,” Padma chimed in. “I’m still learning things about my husband, and we’ve been together for forty-five years.”
“Wow. Forty-five years,” Gabrielle said, looking at Padma, finally making eye contact with someone. “That’s amazing, Mrs. Padma.”
“Yeah, it is. Hopefully, you and Dilvan can be together and happy for just as long.”
The smile quickly fell off Gabrielle’s face, and it was immediate. How could she be happy when the man hated her and made every day she’d spend in his home miserable? She couldn’t fathom it.
Tyson immediately recognized the change in her demeanor, and it bothered him. He didn’t know if his aunt was turning a blind eye to it or if she was really oblivious, but he didn’t like it – not one bit.
“The food was delicious.”
“It was. Beatrice is the perfect cook and housekeeper,” Dilvan said.
Padma patted her mouth with a napkin. “Dilvan, why don’t you show Tyson to one of your guest bedrooms?”
“Certainly.”
Dilvan stood up, watching Gabrielle aimlessly push food around on her plate with a fork.
She hadn’t eaten much, and that pissed him off.
His mother was already feeling like something was wrong, and he didn’t need any trouble out of her.
Trying his best not to flare his nostrils, he walked over to Gabrielle’s side of the table, leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, feeling her cringe beneath his touch.
Then he said, “You two try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone. ”
His mother smiled, but Gabrielle didn’t. Unlike Padma, she knew it was a threat. Dilvan had never kissed her on her cheek or elsewhere, for that matter. She wasn’t good enough for his lips, he once told her.
At any rate, he led Tyson to one of the three downstairs bedrooms, the one closest to a bathroom, and said, “Yeah, look, man...I really don’t need a house-sitter. My mother oversteps a lot. This is one of those times.”
“Yeah, well, seeing as though I’m already here, I’ll just stay. It’s only for what? Four and a half days?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Plus, I don’t have much else to do this week, so it’s cool.”
Dilvan took a deep breath, held it and slowly released it, attempting to temper his frustration. “This is the room. There’s a bathroom right around the corner.”
“Got it.”
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Dilvan continued, “Beatrice cooks breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.”
“Yeah, every day, unless I tell her not to. She makes whatever she wants. I don’t give her a menu or anything.”
“That’s cool.”
“And Gabrielle shouldn’t bother you too much. She usually stays in her bedroom during the day, or she’ll go out and sit on the beach.”
“Did you say her bedroom?”
“Uh…no. I said the bedroom.”
Tyson nodded, but he knew what he heard.
Dilvan slapped his hands together and said. “Well, I have to get more packing done. My flight leaves early in the morning.”
“All right, man.”
Dilvan left the room but instead of packing, he hung around the living room for a while, only so he could hear Padma’s conversation with Gabrielle. He wanted to make sure Gabrielle didn’t say anything out of line. If she did, he would make her pay later.