24
Were they even married, technically? They hadn’t said I do .
This question did not hang heavy in the lobby of Tizoc Grand Islands Resort and Spa’s Building C, where a party was underway. Dan flinched as the first champagne bottle popped. Someone had swiped the sound system from the Maize Pool, and the mariachi band was performing Montell Jordan’s “This is How We Do It” at an ear-piercing volume. Lenny manned a sandwich table, made reproductions of his famous subs from the deli back home in Jersey City, called out orders like he was conducting an auction. Gloria led guests in resituating furniture so there was a dance floor, and she currently had her hands in the air, waving them like she just didn’t care, singing and bobbing her head off beat. Dan and Mara, legs weak, sat at a table in the corner. Mara drank from a champagne flute and pulled Dan in for a big kiss.
“We did it,” she said, still ravishing in her wedding gown. And not an ounce of blood on it!
“We did it,” Dan repeated, though not as enthusiastically. Then, after a moment, he whispered, “You could’ve told me.”
Mara’s face dropped. She looked away. “I couldn’t, Danny.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t’ve let me.”
“ Let you? Like I can stop you from doing any—”
“You would’ve told Alan. You would’ve blown it.”
Dan didn’t want his first conversation with his maybe-wife to be an argument, so he let that fester. But then someone knocked over a table of drinks while attempting to moonwalk. He turned back to her.
“Maybe someone should have blown it.” He paused. “Clear something up for me. Did the plan always have you brandishing scissors? What the hell was that? I thought Lenny was going to make it look like we weren’t involved. I thought—”
“You said it yourself. Rico would’ve killed us.” She smiled at someone as they passed, and then her head snapped back to Dan. “I did what I thought was right.”
“I had a seat for you on that plane, Mara. Then we all had seats. What about your mom? Or Raveena? I’m glad everyone here is better off, really, but what about—”
Someone slammed a bottle on their table, beer shooting from the spout like a geyser. A woman and her husband. Dan recognized her—she’d been at his riot, she’d steadied him when he tripped on a sprinkler. She bent down and pulled Dan into a hug.
“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. When I heard about the wedding, and I heard that Lilyanna and Building A were throwing it, I knew there was no way—no way—I knew you had to be up to something, Dan Foster. You did it!”
She pulled back, shook Dan’s hand. Her husband hugged Mara tearfully. His bottom lip quivered. “We just—I know things aren’t perfect now, I know we might still… But we have food and guards of our own and—maybe we can hang on, you know, maybe—” He lost it, hugged Mara again, hugged Dan.
“We’re with you all the way,” the wife said. Then she laughed. “The look on Lilyanna’s face! Girl, you have a mean right hook. Hey, what’s that design on your hand?”
Gloria appeared, seized Dan and Mara, pulled them onto the dance floor. Lenny snatched the mic from the mariachi band and introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Foster, and the place just erupted. Dan was swept up in the spirit of it all—it was impossible not to be—and he had some drinks and Mara had some drinks and he was still mad and his stomach hurt, but soon they were on a table leading the crowd in a rollicking rendition of “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
When that was over, someone yelled out, “Speech!” then another person echoed that, then the whole room chanted, “Speech, speech, speech,” and Lenny chanted it too as he ran the microphone to Dan. Dan shook his head emphatically—he didn’t do this. He wasn’t even consulted on this. “This one’s yours,” he said to Mara, his voice completely drowned out.
Mara nodded, understood. She grasped the microphone in one hand, grasped Dan with the other. She took an uneasy breath as the room quieted down.
“Hi.” Her voice trembled. Gloria hollered from somewhere, which made Mara laugh, and then she tucked a delinquent hair behind her ear and swallowed her nerves. “Hi. I guess most of you know me by now, but for those who don’t, my name is Mara N—” She paused and looked at Dan. He shrugged, because despite how Lenny introduced them, he didn’t know either. “My name is Mara. And this is Dan. I think you know him.”
Massive cheers. Someone threw part of a sub sandwich in the air while Dan squirmed. After everything, they still had the wrong guy. Their savior was standing on the table, but it wasn’t him.
If it were up to him, they’d be halfway to Florida by now.
“Yeah,” Mara said, rubbing Dan’s shoulder. She grinned. “He’s pretty great. Okay. I won’t take long because I want to dance. But—” She closed her eyes a second, chewed her bottom lip. “I have been thinking about something this week. Growing up, my mom hung a wooden sign above our kitchen door. It was a Hindu saying—my mom’s Hindu.”
She had them. They were hanging on every word. Dan had to scream to get the attention of a room like this, Mara spoke as if she was sipping coffee across from a friend.
“ Aap bhale to jag bhala ,” Mara said, her head bouncing as she recalled each syllable. “I’m sorry to anyone who speaks Hindi—I probably butchered it. But what it means is, If you are good, then the world is good .” She lingered on that a moment. “Do good, find good. When the sun exploded—or whatever—I wasn’t thinking about others. I wasn’t thinking about how I could help. My only thought was getting home to my mom. My sister.” She pumped Dan’s hand. “I know you’d love to see your families too.”
Her eyes glistened. Dan looked out. The room was chock-full of glistening eyes. Lenny sniffled, kissed his girl on the forehead. Even Charles, who’d been off trying to calm Alan down, was in the crowd now, entranced by it all. He hugged the stranger next to him, wrapped her up in all his folds.
“And while I’m sad about that”—Mara wiped her face with the inside of her wrist—“I also know why Mom hung that sign where she did. She wanted it to be the last thing we saw before we left the house every day, before we each went out into the world. She wanted me—she wanted us—to remember that we always have a choice. Well, today we made that choice. We chose to do good.” Applause. “And because of that, I think we proved that even if this is the end…the world is good too.”
The place shattered. Dan was in awe. He clapped too, though he didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t made that choice. Not like Mara. The choice was made for him.
“Having said that,” Mara said with a laugh, cutting through the ovation. “I have to admit, it felt really good to punch that man.” They roared. The building shook, ceiling tiles bounced in place. Dan and Mara suddenly had drinks in their hands, and when Mara raised hers, everyone followed suit. “ Aap bhale to jag bhala! ” she said, and they all did their best to say it back. The mariachi band was on it . The choice of “Walking on Sunshine” was a little cheeky, admittedly, but something about it felt good, and Dan and Mara hopped from the table, and the crowd parted for Mara like the sea parted for Moses, and they waltzed hand in hand to the middle of the dance floor and got their boogie on, Dan pretending everything was fine. Then Lenny was there, he danced exactly like you’d expect a deli owner from Jersey City to dance, and Gloria smelled like smoke, but she was hilarious, she was always hilarious, and Charles grabbed Mara’s hands and shimmied with her and then did a twirl and told Dan how lucky he was, and Dan said he knew. And they danced for what felt like forever and no time at all, danced because they didn’t know if they’d ever dance again, danced like if they danced hard enough the sun might come back just to watch.