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Authors: Sonali Dev
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with her fork, pulled a long face, and thrust some into her mouth. The most delicate blend of spices exploded on her tongue. “Oh God, Uma Atya, this is incredible.”
Uma adjusted the scarf on Ria’s shoulder, smiling away. “No wonder you’re my favorite niece.”
“Actually, I’m your only niece.”
“And therefore even more special.” Uma switched to her native Marathi, like she always did when she wanted to be especially affectionate.
“You do realize that makes no sense at all, right?” Ria switched to Marathi too. A giggle escaped her, the sound taking her completely by surprise.
Uma’s eyes glowed, her smile one part pride, one part protectiveness, three parts pure joy at having Ria in her life. “I’m so glad you’re home, beta. ” That smile had lit up the love-starved corners of Ria’s childhood. Now its warmth melted the sharp edges of hopelessness inside her and despite the horrors that lay ahead, for one precious moment, she was glad to be home.
6
T he house was dead silent when Ria awoke. When she had slipped upstairs last night it had still been buzzing with activity. It would be a while before anyone else woke up. She threw on a silk kimono over her white-eyelet pajamas and knotted the corded sash at her waist. The huge turquoise flowers on the kimono made her feel like she was in a commercial for bathroom fixtures.
Turquoise was her designer’s color this season. He’d picked up an obsession for it on his Mediterranean vacation that summer. And he’d virtually drowned Ria in it ever since, insisting it was perfect for “that particular beer-bottle brown” of her eyes. It makes that silent sensuous thing you do scream out, darling! A few years ago red had done the same thing. That had been the year he’d visited China.
Ria slipped her feet into silk thong slippers, also turquoise, and padded down the stairs, determined that today would be different from yesterday. Was it really just a few hours since the last time she’d come down the stairs terrified about seeing Vikram again? After ten years of living a life that felt as much like suspended animation on the inside as how fast and eventful it appeared on the outside, in the past day she had traveled years through time. The lines between her memories and reality turned fuzzy, like the wind messing up the edges of a rangoli painting drawn with colored dust.
With or without jet lag, sleep had been impossible. Images of Vikram and Mira climbing all over each other had haunted Ria all night. She gave her head a violent shake. Some of the positions she’d imagined them in technically weren’t even possible, unless you were a particularly skilled acrobat.
She tightened the cord around her waist and ran her fingers up and down the twisted silk in her hands, focusing on the texture, and consciously anchored herself in the present. Admittedly, yesterday’s encounter with him had been a disaster. But then, how could it not have been? If she was anything she was a realist. She never lied to herself. It would have been nice to have handled it better and to not have let herself turn into such a colossal mess afterward. But it was over now. The drama and the shock of seeing him again—even though she would give anything to have changed the specifics of the meeting—was behind her.
Uma Atya, Vijay Kaka, Nikhil, and Jen needed her. She had so much she’d missed with the aunties that she needed to catch up on. Those were the things she needed to focus on, and with all that remained to be done for the wedding, two weeks would be gone in a heartbeat.
“It’s two weeks. Just two measly weeks,” she chanted it under her breath as she entered the kitchen. Starlight streamed through the windows and mingled with the fluorescence of the appliances to cast a fuzzy glow over the room. Not that she needed mood lighting to make it magical. One step in and it was like her fairy godmother had tapped her with a wand and sprinkled stardust all over
Uma adjusted the scarf on Ria’s shoulder, smiling away. “No wonder you’re my favorite niece.”
“Actually, I’m your only niece.”
“And therefore even more special.” Uma switched to her native Marathi, like she always did when she wanted to be especially affectionate.
“You do realize that makes no sense at all, right?” Ria switched to Marathi too. A giggle escaped her, the sound taking her completely by surprise.
Uma’s eyes glowed, her smile one part pride, one part protectiveness, three parts pure joy at having Ria in her life. “I’m so glad you’re home, beta. ” That smile had lit up the love-starved corners of Ria’s childhood. Now its warmth melted the sharp edges of hopelessness inside her and despite the horrors that lay ahead, for one precious moment, she was glad to be home.
6
T he house was dead silent when Ria awoke. When she had slipped upstairs last night it had still been buzzing with activity. It would be a while before anyone else woke up. She threw on a silk kimono over her white-eyelet pajamas and knotted the corded sash at her waist. The huge turquoise flowers on the kimono made her feel like she was in a commercial for bathroom fixtures.
Turquoise was her designer’s color this season. He’d picked up an obsession for it on his Mediterranean vacation that summer. And he’d virtually drowned Ria in it ever since, insisting it was perfect for “that particular beer-bottle brown” of her eyes. It makes that silent sensuous thing you do scream out, darling! A few years ago red had done the same thing. That had been the year he’d visited China.
Ria slipped her feet into silk thong slippers, also turquoise, and padded down the stairs, determined that today would be different from yesterday. Was it really just a few hours since the last time she’d come down the stairs terrified about seeing Vikram again? After ten years of living a life that felt as much like suspended animation on the inside as how fast and eventful it appeared on the outside, in the past day she had traveled years through time. The lines between her memories and reality turned fuzzy, like the wind messing up the edges of a rangoli painting drawn with colored dust.
With or without jet lag, sleep had been impossible. Images of Vikram and Mira climbing all over each other had haunted Ria all night. She gave her head a violent shake. Some of the positions she’d imagined them in technically weren’t even possible, unless you were a particularly skilled acrobat.
She tightened the cord around her waist and ran her fingers up and down the twisted silk in her hands, focusing on the texture, and consciously anchored herself in the present. Admittedly, yesterday’s encounter with him had been a disaster. But then, how could it not have been? If she was anything she was a realist. She never lied to herself. It would have been nice to have handled it better and to not have let herself turn into such a colossal mess afterward. But it was over now. The drama and the shock of seeing him again—even though she would give anything to have changed the specifics of the meeting—was behind her.
Uma Atya, Vijay Kaka, Nikhil, and Jen needed her. She had so much she’d missed with the aunties that she needed to catch up on. Those were the things she needed to focus on, and with all that remained to be done for the wedding, two weeks would be gone in a heartbeat.
“It’s two weeks. Just two measly weeks,” she chanted it under her breath as she entered the kitchen. Starlight streamed through the windows and mingled with the fluorescence of the appliances to cast a fuzzy glow over the room. Not that she needed mood lighting to make it magical. One step in and it was like her fairy godmother had tapped her with a wand and sprinkled stardust all over
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