The Dowry Bride (28 page)

He finished his oil massage ritual and carefully wiped his hands on a small towel. “Then why are you going so many times to the astrologer?”

Chandramma turned to face him, defensive as ever. “How did you know I went to see the astrologer?”

“He came to the bank this afternoon to deposit the cash you paid him to do a special reading. He told me about your recent visits. He seemed to assume that I knew.”

“So the old bastard couldn’t wait to run to you about my consultations!” Chandramma’s brows descended over her nose in annoyed contempt.

Climbing onto his side of the bed and sitting cross-legged to do his usual bedtime yoga exercises, Vinayak replied, “He didn’t run to me. He was at the bank today to make a deposit and I noticed him on my way to the café, so I stopped to talk. I asked him about his business and he said it was doing quite well, especially this week. Thanks to your three special readings, he made two hundred rupees per sitting.” Noticing the hooded look in his wife’s eyes, Vinayak continued, “So, what were the special readings about? For six hundred rupees they had to be important, no?”

Chandramma stuck her double chin out. “Have you forgotten that we have a daughter of marriageable age? A good mother is supposed to go to the astrologer to get horoscopes matched for her grown children. He is the best astrologer in town and he has a computer now, you know. He charges more lately to recover the cost of that computer.”

“Never mind the cost. I didn’t know we had any boys’ families inquiring about our Shanti. Besides, Shanti has made it quite clear that she is not interested in marriage right now. She is only nineteen.”

Chandramma was a pathological liar, but Vinayak knew she was not one to let herself get caught lying. “Marriages take a long time to arrange, Ree. Just because I didn’t tell you it does not mean there are no prospective boys for Shanti. Before we know it she will be twenty years old, a college graduate, and ready to marry.” She sent him a defiant glance and waited for his reaction.

Too tired to argue further, Vinayak dismissed the matter with a shake of his head. He closed his eyes, did his deep-breathing exercises and meditated for five full minutes. Then he turned off the light and pulled the covers over himself. He could never win with Chandramma. She had the mind of a stubborn donkey. Just before he drifted off to sleep he wondered whether it would be wise to keep a closer eye on Chandramma in the next several days.

He had the uneasy feeling that his wife’s latest activities might have something to do with their daughter-in-law. Was Chandramma still trying to hunt Megha down and kill her? Did Chandramma’s New Year’s resolution include another murder plot?

Vinayak’s hand trembled in fear. What kind of hell was his wife dragging him into? The thought was frightening.

D
espite all her attempts at getting the depression out of her system, Megha failed. Kiran came home from work and seemed to guess at once that she was in a bad mood.

Tossing his briefcase and suit jacket on the chair, he studied her face across the room. “What’s the matter, Megha?”

“Nothing,” she replied and went back to her task of setting the table. A man would never understand a woman’s emotions.

His frown deepened. “You’re not…uh…you’re…how should I say this?”

She sent him an uneasy glance. “What are you trying to say?” It wasn’t like him to dance around any issue.

Kiran looked uncomfortable. “You…um…don’t have any morning sickness or anything, do you?”

So that’s what had him so worried. It wasn’t just she who was troubled about her becoming pregnant from that single night they had slept together. He had obviously been under the same kind of strain. “No, Kiran, I’m not…I’m not having a baby, if that’s what you’re asking. Everything’s okay,” she informed him. She couldn’t help the telltale surge of heat in her neck and face. This was an awkward topic.

His frown eased a little but his eyes were still watchful. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Well, that’s a relief!” he murmured. “I was so damn worried that I might have got you…landed us both in trouble.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what might have happened, Kiran.” She was too embarrassed to meet his gaze, so she continued to go back and forth between the kitchen and dining areas, bringing the food to the table. “I was an equal and willing participant.”

“But you’re so young and innocent. I should have known better than to talk you into doing something so entirely foolish.”

“What!” She couldn’t let him shoulder all the responsibility for this. She wouldn’t. They were two young people in love, with normal, healthy reflexes. It was only a small miracle that had kept them apart for so long in the first place. She’d be damned if she’d let him live with a guilty conscience all alone.

She left the plates on the table and came to stand before him, so she could look him in the eye. “Look, let’s get this straight: I’m a grown and married woman, not an innocent child, Kiran. And you didn’t talk me into anything; I did it on my own. We both acted impulsively that night, but it’s never going to happen again. We won’t let it happen, so stop worrying. Besides, I’m not pregnant, so let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Fine. But I want you to know something first,” he said.

There was such a sad and regretful note in his voice that it tugged at her. “What?”

“Although it’s a relief that it didn’t happen, in other ways I’m disappointed.”

She knew the exact feeling. “Why, Kiran?”

“If the circumstances were right…I mean if you were my wife, discovering that you were carrying our child would be the most wonderful news in my life. Nothing would make me happier.” He must have seen the look of intense longing in her eyes, the one that matched his own, because he laid a hand on her arm. “We’ll make it happen someday…when the time is right.”

Hearing him voice her own sentiments so candidly brought a lump to Megha’s throat.
Oh, Kiran! I would give anything in the world to have your baby.
But she couldn’t say it aloud. Instead she said. “The circumstances are far from right, so it’s best not to dwell on it.”

“All right,” he agreed. “If it’s not that, then why are you so tense? You’re not—”

“No! I’m not planning to run away or attempt suicide again, if that’s what you’re insinuating,” she interrupted, at once reading his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that. But something’s still bothering you. I can tell.”

“Don’t pay any attention to me; I was just indulging in a bit of reminiscing and self-pity. It’s a woman thing—we tend to get emotional for no particular reason sometimes.”

“Let me get changed and we’ll talk.” Kiran plucked his jacket off the chair and disappeared into the bedroom. Several minutes later he came out, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Pulling out a chair, he sat at the table and sniffed the food she’d just finished ladling on his plate. “Umm, this smells wonderful.
Aviyal
is one of my favorites.” Then he spooned some of the mixed-vegetable curry cooked in a white, ground-coconut gravy into his mouth. “Excellent.”

“Glad you like it.” Relieved that Kiran had temporarily forgotten her glumness, she started to eat her own dinner. She knew he planned to go out later to visit his grandmother. Ajji, as everyone referred to the elder Mrs. Rao, was in a nursing home, where she was recovering from a heart attack followed by a crippling hip fracture. He diligently visited his grandmother every Wednesday. Each member of the family picked a different day of the week to visit Ajji, so the old lady would have someone for company every day.

“I have an idea,” Kiran announced after a few seconds of quiet introspection.

“If it’s more shopping, forget it, Kiran,” she said. “I have all the clothes, toiletries, makeup and footwear I’ll ever need.”

He shook his head. “Not shopping, but a visit to someone special.”

She looked at him sharply. “Visit?” Her furtive visits to Harini’s house were enough to keep her in a constant state of nervousness. Still suspicious that someone, most likely Amma, was watching her every move, she couldn’t stand another clandestine outing. Her nerves couldn’t possibly handle it.

“Don’t look so scared, Megha. I’m sure Ajji would love to see you.”

“Ajji! You must be joking! Your grandmother is family. She’ll tell the rest of them that I’m still in town and that I’m staying with you.”

“No, she won’t—not if I tell her not to.”

“But she’s Amma’s mother and your grandmother! Why would she protect
me?
”

“She’s a very bright and astute lady. You’ll be surprised at how good she is at keeping secrets. She’s known many of my childhood secrets. She hasn’t divulged a single one yet.”

“You don’t have any real secrets. I’m probably your first and only dirty secret.”

“Don’t put me on a pedestal, Megha.” He looked amused. “I wasn’t exactly a saint in my adolescent days, and I’m not one now either. You should know that better than anyone else.”

Megha flushed furiously, recalling their naked bodies tangled amidst the sheets the other night. “But this is not the same. I’m her grandson’s runaway wife being sheltered by her other grandson. How is she going to react to that?”

“Listen, I know how serious this is.” Kiran put his spoon down and leaned forward. “But believe me, Ajji is one person you can trust. She’s the only one who is likely to believe that Amma is capable of murder. And, she’s also the only individual in the family, besides me, who’ll be willing to protect you.”

Toying with her food for several minutes, Megha deliberated over the idea. The thought of going out of the house in itself was enough to give her heart palpitations. On top of that, visiting the Rao family matriarch? How could she manage that? The old lady was an elder, most likely a woman of honor with conservative ideas and a stringent code of ethics. She probably believed Brahmin women had a role to play and it certainly wouldn’t include abandoning one’s husband and in-laws.

But on the other hand, Megha argued with herself, maybe it was time she met Ajji, got to know her a little. If Kiran said she could be trusted, then it was probably safe to do it. Also, it would feel good to get out for a change, breathe in some fresh air. She looked at Kiran hesitantly. “I…I guess I could go.”

“Good. We can wish Ajji a Happy New Year together—cheer her up a little,” he said with an encouraging nod.

Megha vaguely remembered meeting Ajji a year ago, on her wedding day to be exact. That was the one and only time she’d met the old lady. Almost immediately after the wedding, Ajji had gone off with other elderly relatives on a pilgrimage of the famous temples of central and south India. Then, at the end of the trip, she had stayed with her widowed sister in Chennai for several months. A few days after her return, Ajji had suffered a severe heart attack followed by a fall in the bathroom that ended in a fractured hip. The doctor had advised her to remain in a nursing home for several weeks while she recuperated because the family was not capable of giving her the constant care she needed.

Although Amma visited Ajji every Monday and Thursday, sometimes accompanied by Appaji or Suresh or Shanti, she had never invited Megha to go with her. Whether it was because Amma wanted to make her feel like an outsider or some other reason, Megha had never been able to comprehend. Although Megha had wanted to visit Ajji and get to know her, she hadn’t had the courage to ask. What if Amma denied her request in that brusque way of hers, saying she wasn’t welcome? In recent months, everything that Megha did or said had set Amma off.

Ajji, the tiny woman with soft gray hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck and dressed in a simple widow’s white silk sari, had sat in the front row at Suresh and Megha’s wedding, an honored place reserved for the eldest member of the Rao family. The old lady had very sharp features and despite the wrinkles, had an expressive face that was still attractive. Somehow Ajji had reminded Megha of a delicate and exotic white-plumed bird. When Megha, the new bride, had bowed low to touch the lady’s feet in the reverent Hindu tradition, Ajji had beamed. “What a beautiful girl you are! You will make our Suresh a very happy man, no? May God bless you with a long marriage and many healthy children.”

When Kiran pulled into the parking lot of the single story building that housed the nursing home, Megha glanced around to make sure no one else from the family was there. Kiran, noticing the look on her face, said, “I’ll go inside and make sure nobody else is visiting her. I’ll also explain to Ajji about what’s happened between you and Suresh recently.”

“She must know that already. Amma will have filled her in on all the details—her own twisted version of them.”

Kiran shook his head. “Doesn’t seem that way. I’ve been seeing Ajji every week, and she hasn’t brought it up. Maybe Amma didn’t want to upset her.”

Megha rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, this is too big a thing for Amma not to have mentioned it to her own mother.”

“As of last week, Ajji had no idea. She makes kind inquiries about you all the time, asks why you’ve never come to see her.” He seemed to think the matter over for a second. “I’ll just tell her the truth now.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“Better to tell her the whole story before she sees you, don’t you think? Otherwise, she’s sure to mention your visit to the others since she’ll have no idea you’re hiding from them. I have to first make sure she understands that she can’t tell another soul about you.”

“I’m afraid she’ll hate me, Kiran. How can a woman her age accept something like this?”

“She’s very modern in her thinking, Megha. She’s really quite amazing—sharp as a dagger, you’ll see.” He stepped out of the car. “Stay here; I’ll be right back.”

Several tense minutes later, he returned and opened her door. “I told her everything.”

Megha closed her eyes for a moment. “She’s thoroughly upset and doesn’t want me anywhere within a thousand meters of her, correct?” She should have known this wasn’t going to work. Kiran was too damned optimistic.

“Wrong,” he said. “She’s enraged at Amma, but she’s very sympathetic to your situation and says she wants to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

Kiran shrugged. “I don’t know, but she’s being very mysterious—says she has been meaning to tell me something for a long time, but didn’t know how. Now that we’re both here, she says it’s best if she shares it with both of us. ‘Highly important,’ according to her. Come on.”

Megha hesitated for an instant then pulled the veil partly over her face and followed Kiran around the building to what appeared to be an inconspicuous side entrance, perhaps an employees’ door. He had obviously decided it wasn’t wise to enter through the main door. All visitors used that entryway and they could run into someone they knew.

Now that she was here, Megha wondered what she should say to Ajji. Despite Kiran’s assurances that his grandmother was a modern woman, Megha wasn’t sure of her welcome. What would the old lady think of her grandson living in sin with his cousin-in-law? Or hadn’t Kiran mentioned that part yet?

She began to have serious doubts. Maybe she could still go back to the car and wait for Kiran to visit his grandmother alone.

As if reading her thoughts, Kiran shook his head at her. “Don’t worry. She’ll be happy to see you. She told me that herself.” He escorted her down a short corridor with rooms opening out on either side.

A few wheelchairs were lined up on one side of the aisle. The overhead fluorescent lights were bright, making Megha even more apprehensive about being seen. The smell of antiseptic combined with traces of chlorine cleanser and urine was unmistakable. Memories of visiting her father when he’d had bypass surgery came to mind. The hospital he’d been in was crowded and not particularly clean, but that was all they could afford. Seeing Appa in pain and all those tubes attached to him had made Megha weep. She could picture him now, looking gaunt and lying on the narrow bed, his eyes glazed. She had thought he was going to die, but he had survived and returned home, a pale image of his former self, both physically and emotionally. Life at home had never been the same since.

No matter how upscale, all health-care facilities smelled the same. For a nursing home in a small town in India, this one was surprisingly clean and modern. But then it was a small and exclusive facility for the wealthy, so they probably provided better care.

Voices emerged from a few of the rooms. Megha instinctively pulled the
chunni
lower to cover most of her face. Visiting hours were on and she could easily end up running into a familiar face.

A stooped old man, walking with the help of a metal walker, shuffled along, entirely oblivious to their presence. A heavy-set nurse dressed in a starched white sari marched by, frowning oddly at Megha, making her feel like an object in a shop window. The veil over her face was bound to be an odd sight. An anxious thought struck her just then. What if Amma questioned the nurses about anyone new coming to visit Ajji? She tried to put it out of her mind. The nurse hadn’t been able to see her face.