Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace) (20 page)

Mummie convulsed, and we drew closer to her in panic. The nurses ran in without being summoned. I stepped aside and turned to Papa, who held me. He pressed my face against his chest so as not to see Mummie like this.

One nurse reached up. She had the code blue button in sight, but Mummie breathed again. Her heart rate returned to normal. The nurses fixed the pillows around her and checked her fluids and tubing, then gave us a comforting nod and left.

“Priya,” she groaned.

I fell over her. “Mummie, I’m here.”

“One more promise.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t waste your future. Please marry Manuk,” she begged with her last breath.

“Mummie…”

“Promise me these two things.”

“I promise.” How could I say no? How could I argue?

“You’ll be happy and successful. That’s all I ever wanted.” And then she was gone.

The machines went off with loud, haunting beeps as she flatlined.

I quivered and stared down at her. Mummie looked at me with half-open eyes, a partially opened mouth, her hand still wrapped around mine.

Death. It hovered over every hospital and lingered around every patient. I had seen it many times, and my eyes had welled up with sadness for people I didn’t know and for their weeping families. Death had finally affected me in a way I didn’t think I could survive.

I turned rigid as nurses moved around me, bumped into me, asked me to step aside. Papa grabbed my shoulders and jerked me back, but my stare never left Mummie’s face. The world slowed down. The pulse behind my ears muffled all the noise. Reality slowly settled in.

Mummie was dead.

The best mother in the world had died in one, excruciating moment. The woman who had protected me, nurtured me, loved me, laughed with me, was gone. Mummie wouldn’t wake up one day and call me to scold me for choosing Ty. I couldn’t stalk the house until she spoke to me. She’d never get over my decision.

Reality punched me in the chest. I groaned, stumbled back, and fell into a chair. Two effing months had gone by without talking to her. Two effing months Mummie had hated me. Two effing months she’d been depressed and hurting. And where the hell was I? Sleeping with Ty. Giggling with Ty. Living life with Ty. All this while Mummie had suffered because of
me
.

Mummie had once told me she was immune to pain. No one could hurt her except Papa or me. Papa never would, but me…

I hated myself.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Priya

The nurses offered condolences of little value. They removed the IVs and tubes, and pulled a sheet over Mummie’s face.

“Please take your time,” they said and left.

But I knew the staff didn’t want us to take too long. They couldn’t say so, but a hospital always needed another free room. Mummie had to be transported to the morgue soon, then a funeral home, if not straight to the funeral home. We had to make arrangements.

Papa sat beside Mummie’s still body. He wept over her when the door closed. Her death, his crying, everything about this broke my heart, which wasn’t whole to begin with.

“I’ll give you some time,” I said, but he didn’t budge, didn’t glance at me.

I stepped out.

“Sweetheart, can I do anything for you?” one of the nurses asked.

“Funeral home.”

She nodded, left, and returned with a brochure. I barely skimmed over it when, to my complete surprise, Manuk and his parents hurried toward me. Madhu, in her awkward way, hugged me while Deepak patted my head.

“Can we see her?” Deepak asked.

“No.” It was difficult to push words through numb lips.

They didn’t seem to expect that answer. Manuk gently asked, “Is it too late?”

I nodded, staring at his collar, which was at eye level. His mother clasped a hand over her mouth and quietly cried. His father led her away.

Manuk gave me a bouquet of white roses. I gaped at the color. White symbolized purification, a new beginning on the foundations of one life ending. Death.

He was so tall that he hovered over me. “I’m so sorry, Priya. Can I do anything? Arrange the funeral, pay for cremation costs?” He saw the brochure. “Call the funeral home?”

I gave him the paper. His words astounded me. “Why?”

“Priya.” He rubbed my shoulders. “This is not something you have to suffer through alone. You and your dad are suffering. Let me help in any way I can. My parents have gotten close to your parents over the past years. Let us help.”

Even after I’d refused the engagement?

“I’ve been busy and traveling for work. I haven’t even had time to text you or hang out. I’m sorry. I wish I’d known she was sick.”

He had no idea about my refusal.

“She felt so strongly about us getting married. I don’t see why we wouldn’t still, and supporting you in this time is my first priority.”

Such loving words. Mummie had picked a good man. She hadn’t pushed just any man on me, but one who could take care of me financially, love me, respect me, try to make me happy.

“Priya…” He stepped forward to hug me, but I stepped back.

“I’m sorry. I appreciate the gesture, I’m just not comfortable with touching.”

“I understand. Please, let me help you.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“You don’t have to be proud.”

“You don’t have to push the matter.”

“Sorry.” He held the brochure. “I’ll make the call.”

“Thanks.”

He rubbed my shoulder, the only physical way of comfort I allowed. “At least she brought us together and blessed our union before she passed. She was a wonderful woman, and I always knew that.” Manuk pressed his lips together sympathetically and met his parents at the far end of the waiting room.

From my peripheral, I caught Ty standing within hearing distance, his mouth dropped open. Crap! I could not deal with this right now.

I turned to duck back into the room, but he was in front of me in three long strides. I couldn’t meet his eyes, just watched his throat. “She’s gone.”

He moved to hug me, but I jumped back. “Don’t.” I spat the shaky demand, a lump so tight in my throat, it was a miracle I could even speak.

“Babe.”

I shook my head and infuriating tears fell. “I’ll lose it. Just please don’t.”

He swallowed. He didn’t ask about Manuk or push the matter. “Let me do
something
.”

“There’s nothing to do right now.”

“The mortician is on his way.” Manuk appeared to my left. He nodded at Ty, who clenched his jaw and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Ty had a fire burning in his eyes. It held so many emotions, pain and sympathy for me, and anger toward Manuk. I could tell he wanted to say something to him, to shove him aside and stand as my white knight to take care of me. Maybe he even resented me a little for not keeping him at my side.

“Thanks.” I took back the brochure and pushed open the door.

Manuk took a step forward.

“Don’t. This is a private moment.” I closed the door and returned to Papa, who hadn’t moved from Mummie’s side.

I sat with him with an arm around his shoulders. He jerked every now and then between quiet sobs.

When the mortician arrived, the nurses came in with him. He discussed things with Papa, who sobered up enough to make decisions. Everything continued in a deadened blur.

The mortician and his assistant brought in a stretcher, laid Mummie on it, covered her, and drew a thick blanket over the four sides. She looked like a box, not a body. People wouldn’t know, wouldn’t get upset when they pushed her down the hall.

We followed them.

When we came out of the room, Tyler stepped forward. “Tyler?” Papa asked.

He shook Papa’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind, sir. I know you don’t want to see me, but Priya was in no condition to drive.”

“Thank you for bringing her here safely. You’re welcome to spend the night at our house.”

What?
Well, Papa was gracious. He’d rather mourn in peace than snap at Tyler, who could easily be seen as the core of all his woes.

“I’ll be busy with arrangements. I’m sure Priya could use a friend to talk to.” Papa sounded dead, hollow, robotic.

His trail of thought continued to confuse me. Maybe he had come to terms with my decision, but he must’ve known that Manuk and his parents didn’t know, which meant they were under the assumption the engagement and wedding would go on as planned.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Manuk, Madhuben, Deepakbhai.” He nodded at the others. They exchanged sentiments, sorrows.

The older generation walked off while the mortician waited for me. Tension rose between Manuk and Ty.

“I have to go. You know where the house is?” I asked.

“Yes,” they said in unison, then glared at each other.

Tension thickened. Manuk knew something was going on between me and Ty. And Ty wasn’t the type to hide. He wasn’t ashamed of anything.

I groaned and hurried after the mortician, hooking my arm with Papa’s and going with him.

The funeral home smelled of flowers, fresh wreaths, wood, and leather. The place was spacious enough to showcase several coffin models. They were beautiful and expensive. Burial plots were expensive, too. Indians believed in cremation. In ancient times, cremation released the soul from the body to fly toward heaven. In modern day, it was cost-effective and efficient.

Not that I wanted to leave Mummie, but I couldn’t get out of the funeral home fast enough.

“You go. I’m going to stay,” Papa said.

“Papa…”

“It’s okay. Go. See you at home.”

Home? He hadn’t spoken to me in months, and in our last conversation, they had said I didn’t have a home with them.

“Excuse me.” I approached one of the funeral home assistants.

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me how to get to Metric from here on the bus?”

He looked over my shoulder. “Can I call you a cab?”

“No. A bus ride and a little walking will help clear my mind.”

He frowned but gave me directions and bus numbers. I found my bearings when the bus hit Lamar, a major and familiar street. I stepped off on Parmer near Metric and walked the rest of the way.

I managed to call my director to take bereavement leave between episodes of sobbing.

She passed on her sympathies. “I’ll turn it in. Don’t worry about it. In fact, you have enough varying circumstances checked off that you’re good for the remainder of your rotation. Take the rest of the month off.”

The weather cooled as the sun fell. A light wind picked up. Leaves rustled and danced around me. Cars came and went. Joggers and walkers with strollers or dogs passed by, but I kept my eyes downcast. Whenever I reminisced about good times, and we’d had many good times, the past two months shredded everything to pieces. Guilt filled me.

Mummie and Papa had always informed me of their ailments since high school. For one thing, I understood medicine and knew how to research and ask their doctors the right questions. For the obvious, as I entered med school and beyond, they figured I had an answer or, at the least, a direction to go in.

Mummie hadn’t told me about her headaches, depression, and fainting spells. If she hadn’t hated me for the past two months, I would have caught this. Even if her condition was untreatable, I could have talked to her on the phone every day. Or if my choice was the deciding factor of whether or not Mummie lived, then the pain of letting go of Ty would have been worth it.

I groaned and hugged my burning stomach.

There weren’t any cars at the house except Ty’s. No
fois
, no
aunties
, no Manuk. Not that the vibrating phone in my pocket didn’t annoy me enough, probably full of messages from said people.

Ty wasn’t in his car or on the porch. I walked around the side of the house, pushed open the squeaky gate, and found him on the swinging bench on the broad, covered patio. He jumped to his feet and ran to me at first sight, scooping me into his arms, hugging me tight, and kissed my forehead.

My effort to push him away didn’t work. He only held me tighter. I gathered the back of his shirt into my fists and cried into his chest. He kept quiet, rocked me, and didn’t let go.

We sat down when I managed to calm down a little. Ty pushed the swing back and forth with his feet firmly planted on the cement. He kept an arm around me, my head on his shoulder.

I mindlessly checked my phone.

Vicki:
Talk to me. Is everything okay?

Priya:
Mummie died today.

Vicki:
WTF! I’m so sorry! What can I do?

Priya:
Feel free to tell your parents. I don’t want to see or talk to anyone.

Vicki:
I can take vacation.

Priya:
No.

Vicki:
Funeral?

Priya:
Dunno yet.

Vicki:
I’ll take vacation then. Want me to tell Tulsi and Jeeta?

Priya:
Please.

Manuk:
Are you okay? Where are you? At the house?

I slid the phone into my pocket. Ty could read everything over my shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He rubbed my arm but stopped and stiffened when Manuk’s text came up.

The faint sound of cars pulling in, engines turning off, and car doors closing alerted us that Papa had arrived. Voices carried. Maybe if we didn’t open the blinds, they wouldn’t see us, but someone had the idea that light could brighten things. One blind after another came up. The window screens were tinted so I couldn’t see inside, didn’t know who saw us.

The back door opened. Ty jumped to his feet and gave Papa a light embrace, muttering, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Papa appeared taken aback, but he must have been used to all the hugs by now. He exhaled and nodded. Before returning, he said, “Thank you. Come inside and eat.”

We removed our shoes and went inside.

The kitchen smelled like the Indian takeout that Manuk’s parents brought. The phone rang off the hook and Manuk, with Papa’s permission, answered and invited people. The
fois
filed in, all on high alert to steer clear of me.

Ty was constantly at my side. He sat where I sat, stood where I stood. Although he had an easiness about him, he seemed out of place here. Everyone made rounds to greet everyone else, including Ty. They asked him who he was and his relationship to me. One look at me and he plainly responded, “Priya’s a friend from Houston. She couldn’t drive in the emotional state she was in.”

It pained him to say he was just my friend, I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. He was selfless enough not to drench this horrible day with drama. But he made a point to ward off Manuk with a deadpan expression.

“I feel worthless,” Ty muttered.

“Don’t. You’re keeping me sane.”

“The dentist is running the show, stepping up. I should be doing that.”

“Did you ask Papa if he needed anything?”

“Yes, several times. He shakes his head and tells me to eat.”

“Better than kicking you out.”

“I don’t like how the dentist acts like he’s your husband. Doesn’t he know about us?”

“I guess my parents never told them. He’s been traveling, so when he stopped texting me, I thought he knew…”

“You didn’t tell him?” He had a hint of restrained anger in the question.

“His parents wanted an answer right away, so I thought my parents had told them.” Ty didn’t understand that the parents were the ones who made or broke arrangements at this stage of courting.

Ty flared his nostrils as Manuk advanced. “Tyler, right?”

Ty nodded.

“Thanks for driving Priya.” He looked at me. “It would have been horrible if you had gotten into an accident trying to get here.”

“How did you know about Mummie?” I asked sharply.

“Well, we planned on coming to town anyway for a function at
mandir
. We wanted to meet up with you, too, it’s been so long. When we called, your dad told us.”

“I see.”

“The priest will be here soon. I’m going to the store to get some things. Want to come?”

“No, but thanks for getting all this ready.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m for. Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“See you in a bit.” He cracked a comforting smile at me then shot Ty a dry look before leaving.

“I should have a talk with him,” Ty grumbled, taking a step after Manuk.

I tugged him back. “It’s okay for now. Later. Don’t leave me.”

He sighed but obliged.

The priest arrived shortly, expecting reverence and awe that I wasn’t in the mood to give. He prepared the living room for a ceremony, posting his altar and Papa’s idols up front. Manuk returned soon after and handed the priest his ceremonial emblems.