The Full Moon Bride

by Shobhan Bantwal

  Lou looked at his watch and turned to me. “It’s not even seven o’clock yet. You’re not thinking of leaving already, are you?” He pulled out a roll of mints from his pocket and offered me one, then tossed one into his mouth.

  “Not yet. I have plenty of time.” I was surprised it was still that early, in spite of our leisurely dinner.

  He took my arm and started walking briskly toward his car. “Good, because I have plans for us.”

  “What kind of plans?” I asked with a coy smile. Flirting wasn’t part of my personality, so I had to put some effort into it. But in the next second I wondered why I was trying so hard to flirt. Something in Lou’s words and expression told me his plans could be of the intimate kind.

  For the first time since I’d made this date I began to feel a smidgen of alarm.

  “I’m taking you back to my house.” He smiled down at me, teeth gleaming in the lights shining from nearby businesses, confirming my suspicion.

  My pulse skittered. “You are?”

  “It’s just a little rancher. Nothing compared to what you’re used to, I’m sure. But it’s my home. I’d like you to see it.”

  “Is it far?”

  “No, only about fifteen minutes from here.”

  “I’m sure you have a lovely house, Lou.” The word home made me swallow hard. His home and Lynne’s. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to set foot in the place where his wife and he had made a happy life for themselves, made love, made plans for the future—the future that wasn’t meant to be.

  It was also the house where she might have died.

  Lou came to a stop beside his vehicle, then leaned toward me and engaged me in a hard kiss, filled with promise—probably a taste of what was yet to come.

  He tasted of mint and . . . desire. The kiss didn’t last long since there were too many pedestrians milling around to allow privacy. But the message was clear. The man fairly reeked of lust. Even I could sense it.

  The alarm bells in my head went up by a few decibels.

  I started to get the feeling that Lou’s plans included an evening of sex—in the bed he’d likely shared with Lynne. And what did he mean when he said he’d like for me to see his house? Was I giving him ideas about a possible future together? Was seeing a woman a couple of times enough to have a man thinking about a permanent relationship? I wished I knew the answers.

  What was I thinking when I’d called him to suggest this rendezvous?

  I was still a virgin, an embarrassment at my age. And then there was the fact that I wasn’t prepared for intimacy with this man. Any man. Was I ready to give up my virginity to a widower I barely knew, just to prove a point?

  Why the heck had I imagined I could enjoy a normal date like my friends? I wasn’t like them. I could never be exactly like them.

  Dad’s words started pounding in my head again. If this is your idea of getting even with your mom and me and Rajesh, I pray that you come to your senses before you do something you’ll regret, Soorya.

  I couldn’t do this, I realized, the panic rising as Lou turned on the ignition and slowly maneuvered the car out of its spot and merged into the traffic. I couldn’t sleep with Lou. Not now. Not ever.

  Besides, I couldn’t lead him on and then break up with him later. He was still hurting from losing his wife. I couldn’t add to that pain.

  Setting up this date with him was a mistake. But it wasn’t too late to correct it.

  “Lou, I think we better skip any further plans for the evening,” I murmured as we came to a stoplight.

  He chewed vigorously on his mint and angled a confused glance at me. “Didn’t you say you were in no hurry to get back?”

  “Yes, but I’m beginning to realize it’s a long train ride and then another drive back to my house.”

  He went quiet for a minute. “Are you mad at me? Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, Lou.” I fidgeted with my gloves. Perhaps the truth would be best. “It’s just that . . . I’m not prepared to go to your house yet. It’s too soon for that.”

  “Humph,” he grunted and accelerated again as the light turned green.

  I noticed we were already on Washington Road. His house was probably not too far. I had to make him take me back to the train station before we ended up in his driveway, before it became too late to turn back. I put a hand on his arm. “Lou, no offense, but I think I should take the next train back home.”

  “Why?” He looked tense and irritated, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “I don’t want my parents worrying about my safety.”

  His jaw tightened. “They think I’ll take advantage of you? What kind of a man do they think I am?”

  “It’s nothing like that,” I replied. “They think you’re a great guy, especially after the way you came through for me when my grandmother was ill.”

  “Then what is it?” he demanded as he drove through yet another busy intersection—this time a bit too fast for my comfort. “Is it because I’m black?”

  “It’s not that, either.” I didn’t have an answer, even for myself. I liked Lou immensely and enjoyed his company. His ethnicity didn’t matter to me one bit. And yet there were too many things that seemed wrong with the two of us coming together as more than friends—like a puzzle where no matter which way you tried, the pieces didn’t fit. So all I said was, “It’s difficult to explain.”

  He drew an audible breath and slowed the vehicle, clearly trying to calm himself. Maybe he was trying to understand my capriciousness, or trying to summon patience to deal with an unpredictable woman like me. “Tell me honestly, why did you ask me to meet you today?” he demanded.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Lou. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “But now you’re regretting it.”

  My silence was enough of an answer.

  “Fine, I’ll take you back to the train station.” We drove the rest of the way in silence at a reasonable speed. The dashboard clock read 7:12 P.M. when we reached our destination and found a temporary parking spot. The next train wasn’t due for several minutes.

  “I’m really sorry, Lou,” I mumbled, feeling more foolish and rueful than ever. “I guess I’m not used to this sort of thing.”

  He sat staring out the windshield for a long time, his face frozen, his thick fingers drumming a tattoo on the steering wheel, making me wonder if this was the calm before he exploded in a fit of rage. I didn’t know him well enough to gauge his every mood.

  Then slowly he turned toward me. “That’s okay, Soorya.”

  “No, it’s not okay. It’s all my fault.” I was on the verge of tears and my voice wobbled. “I—I don’t know how to make it up to you, Lou. I’ve treated you very badly. I’ve been selfish and stupid.”

  He patted my hand. “Don’t punish yourself. It wouldn’t have worked between us, anyway.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “We’d probably end up having an affair, but it wouldn’t have gone anywhere. We’re from different worlds. You’ve had a lavish life and I grew up in a ghetto.”

  “Our lifestyles have nothing to do with this,” I countered, trying not to sniffle. The tears were close to spilling. “I’m proud of who you are and what you’ve done with your life.”

  “But you just can’t accept me as a guy you could go out with.”

  I chewed on that for a bit. “I can’t explain it, Lou. I know something doesn’t feel right about us in the romantic sense. I’ve come to respect and like you very much. I want us to be friends, if you’re willing to accept that.”

  He took his time responding. “I’ll accept that.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  He let out a resigned sigh. “To tell you the truth, I still miss Lynne. I think I was only trying to prove to myself that I’m still alive, and still able to feel something.”

  “I can understand that.” I really did, to some extent. He was desperately trying to put the past behind him and get on with his life, a
nd I happened to be there at the right time. It was generous of him to confess his sentiments instead of letting me wallow in guilt.

  “My mistake was in trying to do it with someone like you, inexperienced and unprepared for an affair.” He put a hand on mine and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry I came on strong.”

  “You didn’t,” I assured him, vastly relieved at the mature way he was handling all this. “You’re not mad at me, then?” When he shook his head, I started to cry in earnest. How could he forgive me so easily?

  “I’m not mad at you, honey. Please don’t cry.” He wiped away my tears with his thumbs. It was an unexpected and tender gesture. Instead of consoling me, it only brought on more tears. “I’m mad at myself for being foolish enough to think a woman like you could have a relationship with a man like me.”

  “You’re not foolish, Lou.” I sniffled. “Some things are meant to happen, while some are not. I’m sure you’ll meet the right woman one of these days.”

  “You’re a kind young lady, but I believe your mind is on that young man who came to visit your grandma in the hospital.” He looked at me closely. “Am I right?”

  I frowned at him and blew my nose with a tissue. “Roger? He’s just a family friend.” Was I that transparent?

  Lou chuckled, allowing me to breathe easier and regain my composure. “I saw you staring at him, my dear. I got the distinct impression he’s more than a friend. Your parents seem to like him a lot, too.”

  “They certainly like him,” I said.

  “I admit I was a little jealous of him. I still am.”

  I wasn’t surprised to hear that. Lou’s reaction to Roger that day in the hospital had been a clear case of jealousy. “You’ve no reason to be,” I said. “But I’m flattered.”

  Lou looked at the clock and unhooked his seat belt. “Your train should be here in about five minutes. I’ll wait inside the station with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m a big girl and there are plenty of people on the platform.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely. Thanks for a lovely dinner.” Gingerly I kissed his cheek. “Again, I’m sorry for ruining your evening.”

  “You did not ruin my evening,” he assured me. “Let me know you got home safely, Soorya.”

  “I will.” I hurried toward the platform with my head down. What I’d done was pretty disgusting—using a vulnerable man for my petty, selfish purposes.

  I couldn’t let it happen again.

  He’d wait in the car until I boarded the train. I was certain of that. Lou was a gentleman.

  Chapter 30

  As I approached the house, I noticed the lights on in the family room and foyer. Mom and Dad were probably watching TV or reading. There was no way to avoid them. They’d wonder why I was returning home hours earlier than their estimate.

  It was likely to raise a lot of questions. Thank goodness, I’d had enough time on the train to compose myself after my fit of tears.

  Since I’d promised Lou I’d call him when I reached home, I stopped on the street outside for a minute and used my cell phone to let him know before pulling into the garage. I got out of the car and shut the door reluctantly.

  I entered the house, bracing myself for the third degree.

  As expected, Mom was the first to appear in the foyer. She was in her usual nightgown, face glistening with moisturizer. “You’re early.”

  “Yes.” I unbuttoned my coat.

  She bit her lower lip and studied me. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “I thought you would be very late.”

  Hanging up the coat, I shut the closet door. “I was a little tired and decided to come home early.”

  “Is that the only reason?” It was Dad who asked that, emerging from the family room. He was dressed for bed as well, a robe covering his pajamas.

  “Yes.” I wasn’t about to confess that I’d had cold feet, that his earlier words of warning had hounded me all evening. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead I walked toward the staircase. “I’m off to bed.”

  I saw Dad and Mom exchange a private look—a familiar look. It generally preceded a lecture.

  “Stop right there, Soorya,” commanded Dad. “Your mother and I want to talk to you.” His tone, too, had a familiar ring—it meant I had no choice but to concede. He was in Indian Dad mode.

  “I have nothing to say, Dad,” I informed him wearily.

  “But we have something to say to you. Stop behaving like a petulant child and sit down,” he said, shepherding me into the family room. “This nonsense has gone on long enough.”

  From habit I sat on the edge of the recliner, keeping my eyes trained on the carpet. Dad and Mom sat side by side on the couch. Again, this was a familiar scene from my childhood, when I was about to be reprimanded for some wild or stupid thing I’d done. Even the tightening in my tummy was reminiscent of those days.

  “Soorya, why are you behaving like this?” Dad asked.

  His words echoed what Roger had said to me the previous night. “Behaving like what, Dad?” My defenses were already up and Dad’s question only served to reinforce them.

  “I know exactly why you’re giving us the silent treatment since last night—and why you’re having an affair with that Draper fellow.”

  “I’m not having an affair with Lou.”

  “Didn’t you say you had a date with him? Isn’t that your way of punishing me and your mother?”

  “That’s not true!” My voice sounded whiny and defensive even to my own ears.

  He held up one index finger. “Remember one thing, though. That kind of retribution will end up hurting you more than anyone else. It’s self-destructive.”

  I suppressed my urge to tell him that I’d already recognized that. All through the evening I’d been obsessing over my impulsiveness. My mistake. My stupidity.

  “What happened to you last evening?” asked Dad. “You were fine until I mentioned my involvement in Rajesh’s venture. After that you immediately put on a face and clammed up. Why?”

  I sat there for a long time, my thoughts spinning in my head, my lips trembling. I felt like I was thirteen again. I finally looked up. “You want to know why? Because you bought Roger with your millions. Isn’t that what this so-called investment is all about? An attempt to purchase a husband for your loser daughter? And how different is that from the dowry system that you allegedly condemn? What you did is worse. It’s underhanded. It’s bribery, Dad, plain and simple.”

  “No, it is not. When I offered to fund Rajesh’s project, it had nothing to do with you. Do you remember the day the Vadepallis visited us, when Rajesh talked about his play and how Venki maligned him? Well, that night the boy convinced me that there was something to this Broadway idea. I admit it sounded like a vague, unreachable dream, but he had a vision, the willingness to work hard, and all he needed was the money to reach it. He got me thinking.”

  “That’s bullshit, Dad. It had everything to do with me. You wouldn’t have just gone out and found a penniless Broadway dreamer and given him half a million dollars. This was all about me.”

  “Oh, shut up, Soorya! The universe doesn’t revolve around you. Your mom and I do have other things to occupy us. I believed in the boy’s dream and wanted to offer him support. I did it partly for my own pleasure, too—my contribution to the world of theater, which I love so much. Besides, the story was intriguing—all about a young Indian man coming to America with big dreams, and despite the many hurdles, succeeding in realizing those dreams. It was a tale I could relate to, so I not only decided to help out Rajesh but I also called his father and shamed him into putting up half the capital.”

  “And I bet Roger just grabbed it with both hands!”

  “Not at all. Contrary to what you think, Rajesh is a decent young man with scruples.”

  “Really? He didn’t have a problem looking for a rich wife to fund his play.”

  “Looking for busines
s backing is not unscrupulous. It’s practical thinking. Besides, Rajesh was reluctant to accept money from me. You know why? Because he felt you would jump to precisely the conclusion you have. But when I convinced him that it was strictly a loan, he agreed.”

  “Of course he did.” Roger was a talented actor.

  “Thirty years ago, I had a dream of becoming a famous cosmetic surgeon,” continued Dad, ignoring my sarcasm. “I had to beg and borrow money to set up my practice in a dreadfully expensive place like Manhattan, so I knew how the boy felt.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me all this earlier? Why did I have to wait until tonight to find out?”

  “You never gave us a chance to explain last night. You ran off to hide in your room.” His eyes narrowed on me. “I don’t know what made you come home early this evening, but you seem kind of . . . down.” His expression turned more suspicious as he leaned closer to study my face. “Did something happen in Princeton? Did that man—”

  “No! Lou’s a decent guy.” Damn, but my eyes were probably still red and puffy. “We had a very pleasant dinner together, that’s all.”

  “Okay,” Dad murmured. He didn’t pursue the subject.

  “Told you I was merely tired,” I reminded him, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “In that case it’s time to have this out, Soorya, once and for all.”

  “Let’s hear it, then.” I compressed my mouth into a tight line.

  Mom, who’d been quiet all this time, spoke up. “Baby, we want you to know that Venki had asked us to keep it quiet. He said you were likely to react badly—exactly like you’re doing now. Besides, he wanted his son to think all the money came from your dad, so he’d work hard to make it a success. He was afraid Rajesh would take it easy if it was his own father’s money. Last evening’s revelation was a shock to poor Rajesh. Did you see the expression on his face?”

  “Hmm.” That explained Roger’s discomfort outside the restrooms, when I’d thanked him for inviting us. He owed it to us. It was Dad who’d made the whole thing possible. “Why didn’t Roger tell me about your offer? He made it sound like he’d found some capitalist to finance his project, but he never as much as hinted it was you.”