Home for Chirappu (2 page)

“But isn’t that a charade in itself?” Trent asked as he reached for the soap. Nik took it from his hands and worked up a lather. He rubbed his hands over Trent’s chest. Trent took comfort in the familiar touch, his touchstone amid all the foreignness of India.

“No, they know we’re together, and they’re fine with it. And like I said, it was a good sign that Abilash picked us up at the airport. It will be fine, and if it isn’t, it’s only two weeks. When it’s over, we’ll go home, and if you hate it, you never have to come back again.”

Trent didn’t reply, choosing to take the soap and wash Nik’s chest instead. They were both tired, and that was never a good time to talk things through. He didn’t want to hate India. He didn’t want this to be the only time they ever came to see Nik’s family. He just didn’t want to pretend they were just friends.

They finished their shower in silence, stealing kisses here and there, not enough to arouse but just to remind each other they were there. By the time they were done, Trent was refreshed and mostly ready to face Nik’s aunt again. “Thank you. I needed that.”

Nik kissed him sweetly. “Anytime, babe.”

The endearment soothed the last of Trent’s nerves. Being in Kerala hadn’t changed the way Nik felt about him. He gave Nik a smile, a real one this time, and took a deep breath. “Okay, time for tea?”

Nik looked him up and down. “Not until you get dressed. I’m not sharing you with anyone else.”

Trent rolled his eyes. “After we get dressed, of course. Tea is next on the agenda, though, right?”

“Right. Get dressed. I’ll do the same, and we can go down together. I don’t actually know where the dining room is either, but we can be lost together.”

“As long as we’re together,” Trent said. He gathered up his clothes and went back into his room to put away his things and get dressed. He ran a comb through his hair, although as short as it was, it didn’t need much more than a good rub with a towel. He checked his shirt and trousers. Nik had suggested bringing light cotton or linen pants instead of shorts and polos instead of T-shirts, so Trent was a little more dressed up than he would usually have been on vacation, but Nik knew his family best. Trent had followed his advice, no questions asked.

“W
HAT
WAS
that dish called again?” Trent asked as they got ready for bed. Nik’s aunt had said good night at the bottom of the steps, so they hadn’t bothered with the pretense of going into separate rooms.

“
Pavakka
,” Nik said. “Bitter gourd. I can’t believe you like it. It’s one of the few things I just can’t make myself eat.”

Trent shrugged. “I thought it was delicious, but you know I love Indian food.”

“There’s a difference between Indian food in a restaurant in Chicago, even a good one, and what my aunts make,” Nik reminded him.

“It was delicious,” Trent repeated. “Your aunt is a very good cook. I can’t believe how much of it was homegrown.”

That, he’d learned, was the explanation for the hole in the bathroom floor. All the water from the shower flowed into downspouts and out to water the fruit trees and vegetable garden that surrounded the house. The engineer in Trent had appreciated the simple effectiveness of it. The foodie had appreciated the fresh produce even more.

Nik smiled. “Feeling a little better about everything now?”

“Yes, I’m still exhausted, but I’m not overly hot, hungry, or dirty anymore. And your aunt couldn’t have been more welcoming. I’m sorry for my meltdown earlier.”

“You’re entitled,” Nik replied. He stretched out on the bed and patted the space beside him. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day. Ramakrishnan uncle wants to leave around ten so we’ll be to Alappuzha by lunchtime, so we can’t be lazy in the morning.”

Trent folded his shirt and pants and lay down next to Nik in just his boxers. He let the cool air from the fan wash over him for a moment before rolling onto his side and kissing Nik softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Sleep well.”

H
E
’
D
EXPECTED
to see farmland at some point as they left Ernakulam and drove toward Alappuzha because Nik had told him Kerala was a rural state, but it was one town after another the whole way. At first, Trent tried to watch for road signs so he could see where they were going, but he gave up after a few minutes. The few signs he saw were in Malayalam, which he couldn’t read, but most of the time he couldn’t even find signs in the first place. He was glad someone else was driving. Between the lack of signs and driving on the left side of the road, he would have had trouble, but that didn’t count the rickshaws and cyclists next to the cars. Or the fact that there were three lanes on the road and five cars across.

Ramakrishnan and Susheela made a point of speaking English so Trent could understand them, but the discussion was all around updating Nik on the doings of his various cousins. They may as well have been speaking Malayalam for all Trent could participate in the conversation.

The traffic slowed. Trent craned his neck to see what the cause was. In the middle of the road, he saw a huge gray elephant being guided by a man in a brightly colored lungi.

“Elephants? I expected cows, but not elephants.”

“You won’t see many cows wandering around in Kerala. People have them, but they don’t let them wander here the way they would in the north or in Hyderabad,” Ramakrishnan uncle said. “The elephants belong to the temples. With Chirappu starting, they’re taking them to bathe before the processions over the next few days.”

Trent shook his head. Elephants in the street. Nik hadn’t been kidding yesterday when he’d said they weren’t in Chicago anymore.

“Almost there,” Nik murmured. “We’re in Alappuzha. We just have to get to Thathampally, our neighborhood.”

“The main days of Chirappu don’t start until tomorrow, so traffic shouldn’t be too busy,” Susheela aunty said. “Tomorrow, though, you will hardly recognize the city. You remember, Nikhilesh.”

“I remember, aunty. Aysha, Reena, and I always looked forward to it. We’d eat so much sugarcane we’d get sick, and then we’d go back and do it again the next day,” Nik said with a smile. “Last I heard, Reena had moved back to Alappuzha after university. I wonder if Amma has any news from her mother.” He saw Trent’s confusion and explained, “Aysha and Reena were my best friends in school. We did everything together. I can’t tell you how many times I went to the mosque with Aysha or to church with Reena. And they always came to the temple with me for Chirappu. Reena’s mother gave Aysha and me Christmas presents along with her own children every year.”

“Leelavati used to worry about him getting in trouble with the girls,” Susheela aunty said to Trent. “It turns out he was safer with them than he would have been with boys his age.”

Trent blinked in surprise at the casual reference to Nik being gay. Nik’s parents accepted him and had been friendly to Trent when they visited, but he hadn’t expected the easy acceptance from the wider family, especially given the separate rooms they’d been assigned last night. He relaxed a little. Maybe the trip wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all.

“They were my best friends,” Nik said. “It never occurred to me to think of them any differently than I thought about Nandini.”

Trent knew that name. Nik’s sister was five years younger than him and had just finished medical school. If he remembered correctly, she was doing the Indian equivalent of a residency right now. He hadn’t met her, but Nik talked about her all the time.

“I had a friend like that,” Trent said. “Not that I have a sister to compare the relationship to.”

“Do you have brothers?”

“No, I’m an only child,” Trent said.

Susheela aunty tutted softly. “Did you warn him about your family, Nikhilesh?”

“I drew him a family tree and everything,” Nik said.

She tsked at him again. “I apologize in advance for everything. Our side of the family is bigger than
Chechi’s
side—Leelavati, I mean—but her side isn’t small either. If it gets to be too much, tell Nikhilesh, or if you can’t find him, tell me.” She turned to Nik. “Really, dropping your whole family on him at once when he isn’t used to large families. Are you
trying
to scare him off?”

Trent decided Susheela was his favorite aunt too.

“Of course not, aunty,” Nik protested, “but once I told Amma we were coming for a visit, nothing would do but to invite everyone. I haven’t been home in ten years.”

“And whose fault is that? Not Trent’s, but he’s the one who will have to survive the craziness.” She switched into Malayalam after that, a spate of sound so rapid he could barely distinguish one sound from the next. He’d already learned he wouldn’t be able to pick out words. Nik flushed beneath his dark skin, something Trent usually only saw when they were in bed, and reached for Trent’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said when Susheela aunty had finished her tirade. “Promise you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much?”

Trent really wanted to know what Nik’s aunt had said to make him look so sheepish, but he settled for squeezing Trent’s hand. “I promise.”

They crossed over a canal on a white stone bridge and Nik leaned over Trent to point out the window. “There’s the Jilla Cout Jama Masjid, and that’s the Sri Bhuvaneswari temple, and then next to it is St. Michael’s church. We’re almost there.”

“Were they fighting to have the most prominent place in town?” Trent asked.

“No, not at all,” Susheela said. “It’s just easier to celebrate together if we all worship in the same part of town.”

“Wait until Chirappu gets going tomorrow,” Nik said. “You’ll understand then.”

They turned off the main street onto a narrow, dusty road lined on both sides with fences and beautiful flowers. Nik hopped out of the car when his uncle stopped in front of a wrought-iron gate.

“This is Shankar chettan’s house,” Susheela said. “He and Leelavati chechi built it when they first got married. Nikhilesh, Nandini, and Nareshkumar grew up here. Normally Nikhilesh would live here with them as the youngest son, but with him settled in Chicago, Nandini is the only one at home now. She’s doing her medical surgeoncy. Did Nikhilesh tell you? We’re very proud of her, following in her father’s footsteps that way.”

“He mentioned she was studying medicine,” Trent said.

“Shankar chettan hoped one of his sons would go into medicine and take over his practice, but they both went into engineering. Then Nandini surprised everyone with her interest. She finished at the top of her class.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Trent said. “Nik talks about her all the time.”

N
IKHILESH
HELD
the gate open as his uncle drove inside and parked, but
he focused on the house—the house that would have been his if he’d stayed in India—instead. Seeing it again after ten years of being gone and six years of American architecture, it appeared smaller than he remembered, but nothing had changed. He could smell his mother’s flowers, and the tree where Reena always hung a Christmas star to go along with the garlands for Chirappu had gotten taller but still stood waiting for them to decorate it. He’d have to hang a star with Trent this year.

He closed the gate and started toward the house. He ought to wait for Trent, but he couldn’t. He was
home
. He made it halfway to the porch and caught sight of his grandfather sitting in a rocking chair with an imperious expression on his face. His footsteps faltered long enough for Trent to catch up with him.

“That’s my grandfather,” Nikhilesh murmured. “I didn’t think he’d be here already.” His parents had come to Chicago, and he’d talked with Nandini and Nareshkumar on the phone and via e-mail. They didn’t hate him for being gay and had urged him to come for a visit and to bring Trent. Nobody had answered him when he asked what the rest of the family thought. And now he had to face his grandfather without any preparation.

Fingers tingling with adrenaline, he climbed the steps to the porch and approached his grandfather with his hands in front of him. “
Muthassan.
”

His pulse raced as he waited for his grandfather to react. Would he take Nikhilesh’s hands and welcome him home or would he refuse to acknowledge him? Surely if he intended to repudiate him, he would have done so by his absence rather than being here to meet him.

“Nikhilesh.” Muthassan closed his hands over the backs of Nikhilesh’s and drew him closer. Nikhilesh bowed his head, fighting back tears, as Muthassan kissed his forehead. “You took your time coming home. Your mother missed you.”

The sudden surcease of tension left him trembling. “I’m sorry, Muthassan. It’s a long trip from Chicago.”

Muthassan humphed. “At least you didn’t come home alone.”

That was a demand for an introduction if Nikhilesh had ever heard one. “Trent, come meet my grandfather.”

Trent stepped forward with his hands in the position Nikhilesh had taught him. Muthassan wouldn’t reject Trent after the way he’d asked to meet him, but that didn’t mean he would approve once he met him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Muthassan looked him up and down slowly and finally folded his hands over Trent’s. Nikhilesh let out the breath he’d been holding. “Shankar and Leelavati have been looking forward to your visit.”

The words were carefully neutral, but Nikhilesh took them as a good sign. He hadn’t refused to acknowledge Trent’s presence. Trent would win Muthassan over the same way he’d won over Nikhilesh’s parents. As long as Muthassan’s reticence didn’t scare Trent away.

“After all the stories Nik has told me, I’ve been looking forward to visiting.”

Muthassan closed a gnarled fist around Trent’s wrist and reached for Nikhilesh with his other hand. “Help an old man inside.”

“You’re not old, Muthassan,” Nikhilesh said even as he helped Muthassan to his feet. He kept his expression under control even though the words rattled him. Muthassan never used to ask for help. “You’ll outlive all of us.”