Read The Sari Shop Widow Online

Authors: Shobhan Bantwal

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Widows, #Contemporary Women, #Cultural Heritage, #Businesswomen, #East Indians, #Edison (N.J.: Township), #Edison (N.J. : Township)

The Sari Shop Widow (36 page)

BOOK: The Sari Shop Widow
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When her mother was on the war path, there was no stopping her.

But despite her curiosity Anjali had refrained from questioning her mother about it. And none of the elders had volunteered any information. It was all very strange, like the code of silence surrounding the emperor’s new clothes. Everyone knew that the others knew and yet no one talked about it.

And Rishi had mysteriously disappeared, just as inexplicably as he’d appeared in their lives. No one talked about that either. Had her parents, in their attempts to protect her, told him to get out of town and leave her alone? Or had Rishi decided he was better off returning to London?

Anjali wanted to know, and yet on some level she didn’t. It would hurt even more if she discovered he had indeed gone back to his former life and lover.

Usha threw her another curious look. But Anjali was in no mood to discuss anything deeply personal at the moment. However, there was one thing she was sure of: this time around she wasn’t going to allow herself to fall to pieces. Life had taught her a tough lesson, and she was older now, more mature, more philosophical.

And she wasn’t going to think about tomorrow. The business seemed to be back on its feet today, her family was with her today, and there was work to be completed today. That’s all she needed. Today.

Suddenly her mother said something that interrupted Anjali’s thoughts. “I wonder how Rishi is doing with his California client.” She made it sound matter-of-fact, but Anjali knew better than to take the bait.

So that’s where he was. Anjali worked her needle and thread silently over the buttery fabric. He’d mentioned going to California sometime soon, but he hadn’t said anything about leaving right away.

Usha claimed her attention directly this time. “Did he mention when he was coming back?”

Anjali shrugged. “Why should he mention anything to me?”

“You two are friends. You go out to dinner on Sunday evenings and all that.”

“We discuss business.”

Usha tossed her a wry look. “I’m sure you talk about more than that.”

“He doesn’t discuss his itinerary with me, Mom. I didn’t even know he was going to California—at least not this soon.”

“What I meant was, since you and he are friends and partners he may have mentioned it to you in passing.”

“He doesn’t answer to me or anyone else. And we’re partners, nothing more.”

Obviously finished with her chore, Usha put the polished silver back, shut the display case, and locked it. “He said he was leaving for California yesterday morning to meet with some new client.”

Anjali had assumed he’d stayed away from the store to avoid her. For that she was both disappointed as well as grateful. She still didn’t know what she wanted. She needed to see him and yet she wasn’t sure if she could stand to look at him anymore. She needed to feel his touch and hear his voice, but she didn’t know whether she’d cringe at both. She’d never experienced such conflicting emotions before.

She was startled when she heard her father calling urgently. “Usha! Anju!”

Her mother was the first one to start running. Anjali dropped the garment and followed on her heels. Something was clearly wrong.

When they got to the office they found Jeevan-kaka sitting on a folding chair, doubled over and clutching his middle. Her father looked frantic. “He suddenly started complaining that his stomach is hurting,” Mohan explained. “I took him to the bathroom a minute ago. He threw up.”

Anju went down on one knee beside the old man. “What’s wrong, Jeevan-kaka?”

“I have this pain…in my abdomen.” The old man’s face was pale and slick with perspiration.

“Have you been taking your medicines regularly?”

“Yes.”

Anjali and her father exchanged a glance. She could see the panic rising in her father’s face. They had no idea what kinds of complications advanced colon cancer could bring on.

“Has this happened before?” Usha asked.

“A few times,” replied Jeevan-kaka, trying to catch his breath.

Anjali turned to her father. “Dad, call 911. He needs a doctor.”

Jeevan-kaka put up a hand to stop him. “No! I don’t want to go to a hospital, Mohan. Your
Amreekan
hospitals are going to charge a lot of money for giving me aspirin and sending me home.”

“But you’re seriously ill, Jeevan-bhai. You need medical help.”

“Just take me home. My pain tablets are in my bag, and I will take those.”

Usha glared at her brother-in-law. “I don’t care what it costs. We’re taking you to an emergency room.”

Jeevan shook his head. “Usha, I have been in a hospital so many times in the last two years, I can’t even count anymore. They can’t do anything for me. Just take me home. I will eat something and take my prescription tablets and then I should be okay.”

“This is my fault,” rued Usha. “I should have brought something homemade for your lunch instead of letting you drink a glass of milk. An empty stomach is what’s causing this, isn’t it?”

“No, no. This kind of thing can happen with or without food. Don’t blame yourself,” scolded Jeevan-kaka. “Rishi knows this for a fact.”

Anjali rose to her feet. “Rishi has seen you through these episodes?”

“At least two times.”

“I better call Rishi, then,” Mohan said and started to dial Rishi’s cell phone number. “Maybe he can tell us how to handle this.”

“Don’t bother that boy when he’s busy with a client, Mohan,” pleaded Jeevan-kaka. “He can’t do anything for me. I just need to take my medicine and get some sleep.”

“From now on, you better not come to the store,” Anjali told him firmly. “You shall stay home and rest.”

Ignoring Jeevan-kaka’s directive, her father called Rishi. Meanwhile Anjali and Usha helped the groaning old man out of the chair and gently led him out the back door to the car. “Are you okay?” they asked him a few times until they got him settled in the backseat. Anjali slid in beside him and her mother got into the front passenger seat.

A few seconds later, Mohan came out of the store and got behind the wheel. “Rishi said it is no use taking him to an emergency room.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” queried Anjali.

“He said we should make sure Jeevan-bhai eats something soft and starchy like plain rice with
dal
and takes two of his pills. After that we should force him to rest.”

“When is Rishi coming back?” asked Usha, throwing an anxious glance over her shoulder at Jeevan.

Mohan started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “He’s planning to catch the earliest flight he can get.”

“But he needs to be with his new client,” insisted Jeevan. “Why did you force Rishi to come back for my sake? It is a waste of his time.”

“He says the tour of the facilities and most of the discussions with his client are over and everything else can easily be done on the phone and computer. So he’s going to check on flights right away.”

“Thank God.” Usha leaned back in her seat. “He seems to have such a calming effect on Jeevan-bhai.”

Anjali reluctantly agreed. Rishi did seem to have that effect on her uncle. In fact, he seemed to have that effect on everyone, except her. When he looked at her intensely with those magic eyes of his, or touched her, he got her pulse scrambling madly. But the man was the personification of calm confidence when it came to business. If it weren’t for his steadying influence, she’d never have survived the grueling tension, the fear and excitement of the last few months.

She didn’t want to see Rishi again, but she had no choice. When he flew back from San Francisco, he’d be sure to rush to Jeevan-kaka’s side. She’d have to tolerate his presence. The important thing was to set aside her personal hang-ups and think about what her uncle needed.

Sitting beside Jeevan in the backseat, Anjali kept a close eye on him. He sat with his eyes shut and his head thrown back against the headrest. The pain was etched on his face. It was frightening to see him like this.

Two nights ago, when he’d mentioned the cancer, it hadn’t hit her with such ferocity. Cancer was just a clinical term, a condition, but now she could see the disease was devastating enough to bring a strong, willful man to his knees. The man who’d seemed so invincible all her life now looked like he was ready to drop. The thought of him dying made her squirm in her seat.

When they reached home, the first thing they did was to coax him to eat a little rice and bland
dal
, and take his medication. An hour later, reclining on the family room couch, he claimed he felt better, and the color was nearly back in his face. So her father helped him up the stairs and to bed.

When Nilesh came home, he found the three of them seated around the kitchen table. They had just sat down to what amounted to dinner. They’d hastily thrown a few things into the microwave, but no one seemed interested in eating.

Nilesh took one look at their faces and stopped short. “Who died?”

“That’s not funny, Nilesh,” his mother chided him.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” he shot back. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jeevan-kaka,” said Anjali.

“What happened to him?” Nilesh washed his hands and wiped them on the kitchen towel.

That’s when Anjali realized that Nilesh hadn’t been told what was going on with their uncle. The poor kid was clueless. “Sit down, Nil. We’ll explain,” she said and got up to get him a plate.

Helping himself to generous portions of the rice,
dal
, and vegetable
shaak
, he sat down. “Where is he?”

“Resting in his room.” Usha explained everything to Nilesh as succinctly as she could.

Anjali watched the expression on her young brother’s face progress from relative nonchalance to shock to genuine regret. “So he’s, like…dying?”

“He says he doesn’t have much time left.”

“Shit!” Nilesh murmured under his breath. “So that’s why he got so thin and he drinks nothing but milk.” He took a forkful of food and chewed on it for a while. “What’s going to happen to him now?”

Poor Nil, reflected Anjali. He didn’t really know what death was. He was four when their maternal grandfather had passed away. As far as grandparents went, only their maternal grandmother was still around, and she lived in India with her son—Usha’s eldest brother—and his family.

When Vik had died, Nilesh was a nine-year-old. But now he was old enough to know about death, and yet still too young to accept it so close to home. Anjali patted his hand across the table. “Rishi’s on his way back from California. We’ll figure something out when he returns.”

“I didn’t know Rishi was in California,” said Nilesh. “What’s he doing there?”

Anjali shrugged. “Beats me.”

Her mother gave her a sharp look. “I told you he’s there to see a new client.”

“So you did.” Anjali rose to her feet, dumped the uneaten food from her plate in the garbage can, and put the plate in the dishwasher. Why was her mother defending Rishi all of a sudden? Usha was too smart to fall for a lame excuse like a business loan to an ex-girlfriend. But then Rishi was an expert at working his charm, especially on women.

A minute later her mother joined her with the rest of the dishes, and the two of them silently cleaned up while Nilesh and her father went upstairs to check on Jeevan-kaka.

That night, Anjali and her parents decided to take turns watching over Jeevan in shifts. Although he was sleeping at the moment, they weren’t sure if it was safe to leave him alone. Mohan volunteered to take the first shift.

Anjali relieved her father a little after 1:00
A.M.
She made herself comfortable in the armchair by the window, turned on the gooseneck lamp, and settled down to read a book. She noticed her uncle slept in fits, but he didn’t complain of pain anymore and seemed oblivious to her presence.

When he woke up and found Anjali in the room, he blinked at her. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re all right.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Just a few hours,” she told him.

“I don’t need a private nurse. Go to sleep,” he murmured with an ornery scowl.

She got to her feet and approached the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Much better. There is no need to worry. This happens sometimes.” He turned his head to look at the bedside clock. 4:37
A.M.
“Do you know when Rishi is returning?”

“He called Dad to say he managed to get a seat on a late flight. He’s supposed to arrive in Newark later this morning.”

Jeevan-kaka surprised her by patting the spot on the bed beside him. “Since you are awake anyway, sit here. I want to talk to you.”

“About what?” She sat on the edge of the bed.

“Something important.” He shifted a little to make more room for her. “I may die tomorrow, or I may die next year, but before it happens, I want to tell you a secret.”

Chapter 31

A
njali studied her uncle’s face. It was hard to read his expression. “All right, what’s on your mind?” she asked him.

“I know you are angry at Rishi, but please don’t be, Anju.”

“I’m not angry anymore. I’m hurt that he didn’t tell me he still had ties to Samantha. He said it was all over between them after he broke up with her during his trip to London.”

“He told you the truth. He cares about you.”

“Fine way of showing it, right? He didn’t even tell me he was going to California.”

“How can he inform you about his trip when you refuse to take his phone calls?”

She looked away to gaze at her hands. She hadn’t bothered to listen to Rishi’s voice mail messages. She’d deleted them without hearing a single one. Perhaps he had mentioned California. “Maybe he’s realized it’s a mistake proposing to me after all.”

“No. Your parents and I had a talk with him.”

“So you did visit him the other morning like I suspected.”

“Yes. He said he still wants to marry you and he has nothing to do with Samantha anymore.”

“And you believed him?” Friendship and loyalty were admirable traits, but in this case Rishi had brainwashed her uncle to the degree that Jeevan-kaka had become blind and deaf to Rishi’s faults.

BOOK: The Sari Shop Widow
2.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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