Loving Me for Me

by Naleighna Kai

  “This place you want us to leave, was built on the backs of people who were property from the time they were born to the point when slavery sent them to a much too early grave.” Jay paused, scanned the horrified, anxious, and saddened expressions. “Almost, but not quite, the same as it was in India, right? But how long did y’all put up with that? How long did the British violate your women? How long did they force your people to build their railroads? How long did they kill off thousands, maybe millions of those who fought back?”

  Devesh slipped his hand inside Reign’s, and she laid her head on his shoulder as they continued to listen.

  “See, the difference is,” Jay said turning slowly in a circle to look at everyone. “Y’all had the home court advantage. You ran them up out of there, took India back, retained your culture and your land, became a powerful nation again. How many of your ancestors died for that?” Jay lined his body so he was mere inches from Bhavin. “How many of mine died on—This. Soil. Right. Here.” He punctuated each word with a finger pointing to the ground. “Enduring things that were much worse than what was done to your ancestors.” He laughed, but the sound was hollow. “What part of America does not belong to us, too? And you want us to do what?!”

  Leena tipped in and said, “Is it safe now? Are y’all done with grownup stuff?”

  “Give us a minute,” Jay replied, and she ducked away while he locked in on Bhavin once again. He looked at his mother. “Do you feel comfortable sharing your encounter with the police?”

  She gave a pensive look in Devesh’s direction before starting. “About three months before I moved here, I was pulled over by the police.”

  Devesh’s shoulders tensed and she held up her hand to signal that he should be calm.

  “I wasn’t speeding or anything,” she said. “They believed I was holding my phone and talking while driving. It was dark. They couldn’t see into the car to know that I had a blue-tooth connection with a hands-free feature.” Reign scanned the family. “For the first time in my life, I felt afraid of the very people who are supposed to serve and protect. Sandra Bland had been killed because a White police officer got pissed at her questioning his motives. She was killed because he felt she’d been arrogant. A simple traffic stop cost her life. Cost Eric Garner his life. Cost Philando Castile his life. And so many others. And people who don’t understand the dynamics, justify those lives being taken by saying, ‘Well, she should have just put the cigarette out. Well, he shouldn’t have done x,y,z. How depraved have we become that we cannot see that injustice is being doled out toward one group more than any other?”

  “Don’t come for me unless I send for you,” Jay warned. “Because I’m going to be ready for you every single time. I am not my mother. And truthfully, she can read y’all a whole lot better than I ever could. Y’all better be glad she loves this man right here,” he said gesturing toward Devesh.

  “Jay, you don’t—”

  “Mama, quit playing,” he said, turning to face her. “You love him. And you need to be a grown up and own up.”

  Reign flinched under the intensity of those words. Pranav nodded and looked as though he wanted to give Jay a high five.

  Devesh’s eyes glazed over and he quickly averted his eyes, saying, “There’s something in my eye. Must be these allergies or something.”

  “Or something,” Jay said, chuckling. “You don’t have allergies.”

  Devesh held out his fist and gave Jay a pound. “True.”

  Papa removed his hand from Mumma’s waist and stepped forward to speak to Jay. “How do you know so much about our history?”

  Jay looked Papa square in the eye. “I felt that if I was going to be part of this family, I needed to learn something about this family. I would hope y’all did the same for us. How else can we have a peaceful and respectful understanding built on knowledge and not assumptions? Built on truth and love. If you want our respect, earn it in the same way we hope to earn yours.” Jay’s gaze went to the entrance. “Kamran is that your tummy growling so loud?”

  “Yep. It sure is,” Leena answered for her brother who was nodding. “Y’all can do this grownup thing some other time, but we’d like to eat now, thank you.”

  Kamran gave a single nod. And that’s that. The rest of the kiddie crew was in total agreement.

  “Alright, Leena,” Jay conceded. “I’ll climb down off my soap box now.”

  “Good, ‘cause I was gonna throw you a washcloth and some water.”

  Jay moved toward Leena. She took off running and giggling as everyone laughed at her feisty response to her big brother.

  The family and guests began to disperse into different areas, but not before coming to say something encouraging to Jay, beginning an exchange of understanding that was sure to have a lasting impact.

  Aunt Kavya pointed the spatula at Bhavin and gave him the evil eye.

  Bhavin quickly held up his hands in complete surrender. She leaned in, kissed his cheek, then playfully swatted his rear end on her way to the kitchen to help with dinner service.

  “I apologize,” Bhavin said to Jay.

  All conversations trickled to a halt—again. Even Mumma’s head snapped to Bhavin, eyes as wide as saucers. “Did … did he … he just apologize?” she asked in a breathy whisper.

  Papa simply nodded as his jaw went slack.

  “I meant no disrespect,” Bhavin continued.

  “Yes, you did,” Jay countered smoothly, but added a smile to take away the sting. “But now that you have a little understanding, things could change. You know my mother and my sister and brother. We are nothing like you said. And there are more like us, than the media likes to portray. There’s good and bad in every ethnic background. I chose to believe the best in everyone I meet, until they show me something different.”

  “You’re right,” Bhavin said smiling as he extended a hand to Jay. “I’m learning.”

  Anaya gripped Pranav’s chest to steady herself, when Jay shook Bhavin’s hand and then embraced him before he said, “And don’t be mad because we ran a Boston on you and won the game.”

  Everyone broke out into laughter, chuckles, and guffaws.

  Papa and Mumma went to Jay and embraced him warmly and said, “Welcome to the family, son.”

  A short while later, all of the family filed in from the patio, solarium, game room, theatre and into the dining room where tonight’s spread of food was situated.

  Bhavin was the one to put his gaze on Pranav first and then to Reign, peering at them as though he had missed out on something. Then he looked down at the desserts and frowned before putting his focus on Mumma. “Where’s the rasumulai?”

  “Devesh asked me to only serve rice khir instead,” she replied unbothered by the curious glances shot her way.

  Everyone’s attention shifted to Devesh. Those seated around the main table began serving up their meal.

  Anaya gestured to the serving bowl of rice khir, then looked at her brother and asked, “What gives?”

  He shrugged and said, “Well it’s white.”

  “But it’s not the same,” she shot back.

  “It’s creamy,” he countered, peering over the rim of the bowl to check the contents.

  “And it’s different,” Sana said.

  Mumma leaned into Papa, who gave her a kiss on the cheek before the both of them settled into the head seats on opposite ends of the main table, watching their youngest son.

  “And it has most of the same ingredients,” Devesh said, stirring the dessert a little.

  “Rice khir is not the same as rasmulai,” Bhavin offered.

  “Right,” Devesh said simply. “Now you understand.”

  Anaya shared a speaking glance with her parents, then her husband before scanning all of the confused expressions at the table. “I don’t get it.”

  “You all are trying to make me have rice khir when what I want is rasmulai.”

  Dinner came to a screeching halt. He let those words bounce off the walls for a m
inute.

  “We’re going to have this discussion one last time,” Devesh said, and there was a warning in his tone. “The moral of the story is, you have a problem with my woman, then you have a problem with me. And what that means is that I’m tired of the side discussions and the disrespect aimed at my wife and children. There are no more warnings about this. I will not have my woman subjected to it any longer, and that means I’m about to clean house and some of you all will not be welcome here.”

  The only sound in the house was a Buick commercial playing on the television filtering in from the game room.

  “You have an issue, let it stay your issue,” Devesh warned with a stern look at the people spread across the different rooms. “That means leave it at home or stay home with it. This place benefits all of you. Not simply for these awesome meals, but that your children stay here during the day or after school and receive excellent care. They learn Hindi and Indian culture. That’s a bonus. But it’s also a privilege. I will shut it all down and take my wife and children, Mumma, Papa, Aunt Kavya, Pranav, and Jay on the road with me and leave the rest of you to figure it all out on your own.”

  Mumma and Papa perked up at hearing that suggestion. Mumma leaned over to whisper something in Aunt Kavya’s ear. The older woman grinned and gave a thumbs up that almost made Reign laugh out loud.

  “You’re sounding mighty Black, my brother,” Jay said low enough so he could hear.

  “Gets the point across?”

  “Indeed.”

  Devesh held back his smile and continued speaking to everyone else. “Reign is beautiful. She is everything I desire in a woman. All the right ingredients for me. You all want me to put my desires aside so you can serve me up something that is not to my taste.”

  He gently pushed the huge serving bowl of rice khir toward the center of the dining room table before accepting the smaller bowl that Mumma held out to him.

  “Rasmulai,” he asked, though he was certain that everyone was already aware of the contents.

  “Of course, my son,” she said, with a loving smile.

  Devesh snatched up the closest spoon, then teased everyone by moaning as the creamy dessert slid down his throat. He placed the spoon on a napkin, then scanned the faces of his family.

  Anaya’s tongue snaked out to wet her lips. Tiya’s infamous sour face was in place again. Bhavin looked as if he was ready to snatch the bowl from Devesh’s hand.

  Devesh lifted the goods and said, “Enjoy your dinner. Oh, and dessert.”

  Then he nodded toward Jay and Pranav, gesturing for them to grab up a few spoons to share in the bounty and follow him. Then hooked his free arm under Reign’s, and whistled all the way to the living room leaving an angry family behind.

  Laughter from Mumma, Papa, and Aunt Kavya trailed after them.

  “I never realized that people we consider the beautiful ones have a whole set of issues that don’t come into play for everyone else,” Reign mused from the lounger out by their condo’s pool. She said the calm of the waters soothed her soul.

  Devesh studied Reign’s face, and saw that she was serious. These sentiments must stem from the discussion that took place at the dinner table tonight. Bhavin still took exception to Devesh and Reign not helping him with his aspirations. He was extremely vocal about it tonight when a commercial came on and Reign’s new client was front and center.

  “How do you mean?” Devesh asked.

  “I didn’t understand that people sometimes become so obsessed with their looks and their bodies that they spend all their time chasing beauty.” She showed him the image of a social media queen who’d become famous because of a sex tape with a young singer. “Face lifts, drugs, injections, overkill when it comes to diets and workout regimens. Whatever will keep them looking young and pretty.”

  Devesh wasn’t sure how to take that. He was careful about what he ate—no pork or beef, organic chicken, and fish, lots of fresh vegetables and grains—worked out every day, ran a few miles every evening. Was she saying that he was vain?

  “It’s the same with prosperity. People want it so much because they don’t understand it,” she said, and he ascertained from the abrupt switch in topic, that this was the real reason for the conversation. Something to do with Tiya, or maybe the issue they were currently experiencing. Money was rolling in faster than they could decide what to do with it.

  “It’s like when people think that hitting the lottery will solve all of their problems.” She let her gaze pass over the smiling faces in the magazine—Devesh and Krish, Reign’s new client, in an advertising spread for Marc Jacobs. “Then they win all that money and have even more problems.” She swiped a hand across her iPad. The characters from House of Cards faded to black. “Remember that guy who was killed because he won a hundred thousand dollars? It cost him his life. Or that woman who spent a good majority of her winnings on a boyfriend who kept landing in jail?” She turned another page. “She wasn’t ready for all that prosperity. Most of it is being whisked away by the government. They’re holding her money hostage because a man she’s too afraid to let go, keeps getting in trouble and they know she’s going to bail him out.”

  Devesh’s forehead furrowed with thought.

  “Then the problems didn’t end there. A church sued her because she told them she’d give them some of it and they wanted their cut.” Reign shook her head. “There are folks who had to go into hiding because of family members always having their hands out.”

  Devesh was all too familiar with that scene. Only Anaya, Pranav, his parents, and now Reign knew that he actually bought the house on Shoreview Drive. They continued to let everyone believe that their parents were the ones who had all the money.

  “That’s why I’ve only told three people what kind of cash I have. I didn’t want to lose people because of it. My parents sacrificed a lot for me to be able to do what I love. That was no small thing. I owed them, but they insisted that the house should be in my name, so there was no misunderstanding with my brother and sister if … if something happened.”

  “And then you break your trust for your children,” she said, and her tone was sad.

  “That wasn’t a sacrifice, honey,” he confessed, sinking further into the padded lounger next to her. “That’s what a husband does for his wife; it’s what a father does for his children. I couldn’t very well ask you to leave everything to be with me without putting some type of security on the table. You gave up a lot, simply because you wanted to do what was best for our children. I will never take that lightly.”

  Devesh extracted the magazine from her hands, flipped it until he came to an advertisement for an island vacation with a couple grinning while on their walk along a tropical beach. “Money has never been all that important to me. Simple things mean so much.” He flipped the pages to the article written about him and the wildly positive reception to his success within the East Indian community. “When I was traveling to Africa, Sri Lanka, Dubai and all over Europe, people took me in, fed me, treated me like family,” he said, giving her a wry smile. “That’s why I was able to meet so many wonderful people and see things, visit the temples and learn what connected and separated people of different cultures. I didn’t have any reason to be afraid; I knew that God had me.” Devesh took her hand in his. “There’s only been one time when I felt any kind of anxiety. When I first told my parents about you, what I saw in their eyes—the disapproval—that was something I couldn’t bear.” Devesh waited a moment to see how she absorbed that piece of information. “So I didn’t pursue what I felt about you seven years ago. How could I go against my family? I wanted children; you had already said you didn’t want any more and I understood. When we talked, there was so much you told me, not knowing that I was keeping all of that information in mind.”

  He watched as her eyes clouded over with some emotion he couldn’t name. Devesh let himself relax slowly, allowing his feelings to come forth in a way that he could share with his wife.

  “But
that week in Atlanta—especially that night—sealed it for me.” He slid his hands over hers. “No matter what the differences were, no matter how my family felt, you were going to be mine. And I told them that when I came home. I told Anaya and Pranav how much you helped me, and how much I loved you,” he said, and his voice took on a breathy sound as the emotions he felt back then resurfaced, especially the feelings associated with the loss of her in his life. “Then you disappeared from social media. My emails bounced back. Phone calls went straight to voicemail, which you didn’t return. I didn’t know what to think. My heart hurt. It was actually a physical hurt—a pain like I never knew.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I—”

  “No, I understand, honey,” he whispered. “I thought I knew what love was. I thought I was ready to be with a woman like you. I really did.” He tightened his hold around her more delicate fingers. “But I would’ve messed things up. I wasn’t mature enough to be in a relationship that people were not ready to accept I wasn’t in the place that I am now, and that would’ve been the wrong dynamic for a relationship. I know that now.” Their eyes met. “You saw me in a different light.”

  Before she could take her next breath, he went in for a kiss that was milder than ones he’d given her before. When he pulled his mouth away, she moaned her protest. He was elated.

  “If we didn’t have that night together five years ago, I would not know that this is making love.” He draped a kiss across the smooth skin of her exposed shoulder, causing another tremor of pleasure to shiver through her body. “Or this…” His lips lowered to the swell of her breasts, and she shivered with undisguised heat. “You’re so in tune with your sensuality. I learned from you that making love starts in the mind and then travels everywhere else.”

  Reign shook her head as though trying to clear her thoughts. “Devesh, we’re supposed to be having an adult conversation here,” she whispered, her arousal evident in her voice and in the heated look in her eyes.