“What’s weird? He’s sad. Why is that weird?” She now busied herself with sorting the cut pieces into matching piles.
“Well, it’s just that it’s been six weeks. I mean, you’re getting on with it. He must have such strong feelings if he isn’t. Are you sure you don’t want to give him another chance?”
Claire had lied to Maureen and Sally. She knew it was a horrible thing to do, but she just couldn’t talk about Satish, anymore. If she told them that Satish wasn’t currently married, but was going to marry someone he barely knew, it would launch endless conversations. They wouldn’t understand—they would judge Satish harshly. It just seemed easier to make them believe that she had broken it off.
Instead of the truth, she’d told them that Satish had asked her to breakfast to clear up the rumor that he was married, but that she had decided he was far too complicated, so she didn’t want to pursue the relationship. They both knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth, but what could they do? She was tight-lipped and pissy, so they avoided the subject—until now.
Claire had no patterns left to sort and couldn’t escape Maureen. “Can we just get this work done? I have three more scarves to finish for the goody bags tonight and I’d like to take a nap, as well—I have a huge headache.” Claire sat back on her stool to renew her cutting.
Maureen stared at her. “I think you should think about it, that’s all,” she said, pouting a little.
Just then, a loud knock made them jump. Claire looked over the counter through the huge, street-level windows to see a stunning, dark-haired girl. She lifted her hand in a slight wave.
Maureen looked at Claire and shrugged; the shop was obviously closed and they weren’t expecting anyone. Claire gave Maureen a gentle shove out of her way and stepped around the counter, making her way through the shop to open the door. The girl stepped forward, holding a large, wrapped bundle, and she gave a tentative smile.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. “Have we met before?”
42
Nandita
Six weeks earlier
…
It was a little chilly on the bench outside the New Brunswick train station. The evening had cooled quickly, and Nandita had forgotten her sweater. She didn’t mind, though, because satisfaction and the wonderful feeling that something amazing could happen at any minute filled her body. A shiny city bicycle flew past her and barely missed her toes.
“Sorry,” a floppy-haired student called over his shoulder. Nandita smiled at him—she smiled at everyone, nowadays. They must have thought she was slightly unhinged.
She patted her backpack on the bench next to her to find which pocket she had tucked her water bottle in. The street was buzzing in front of her with large groups of students falling over each other, laughing at jokes, and shoving one another, teasing. It was the end of the year, so she had to enjoy the crowds now, because New Brunswick was about to empty out for the summer. This train station would be the main exit, moving these excited, young faces back to various corners of New Jersey and beyond to face summer jobs and parents who didn’t understand them, anymore. Not Nandita, though: she had the absolute joy of enrolling in summer school. College! She couldn’t believe how much her luck had changed.
Satish had gone to retrieve the car from the parking garage, and they would soon be home. She would cook him an amazing vegetable curry as a thank you for trailing after her all day—even though he had been kind of a drag. Nandita was worried about her brother. She could see he was making every effort to share her excitement, but he was sad.
Running away had been impulsive and immature, but she’d felt as if she would die if she stayed for one more second in that apartment with her father. Satish had assured her that he had smoothed everything over and that Nandita was here with father’s blessing, but she didn't believe him. In fact, she knew it was impossible. It was selfish of her to allow Satish’s words of assurance to let her off the hook, but she needed to believe that it was alright at home. She needed to believe it, because no matter how much she disliked her father’s controlling habits, she, too, was driven by a sense of massive obligation. Without her brother’s assurances that everything was alright, she may have given in and asked him to take her back to India. She may have married Naveen. She may have broken up with Sachin, who was waiting patiently for her to come back to him as a strong, educated woman.
Now she was here, though, getting an education and living away from the feelings of constant oppression by her father. She was going to keep believing Satish, even if she had to lie to herself until she graduated. What about him, though? What was going on with him? When he had arrived in India, he had been full of smiles and had looked lifted up by joy. Now he was quiet, distracted, and sad.
A black Lexus pulled up against the curb and Nandita leaped from the bench and jumped into the passenger seat. Satish turned to her and smiled affectionately. “So, update me on everything we did today.”
Nandita regaled him with the details of the registration and shopping. She had managed to get into all the courses she wanted, and had even managed to secure an exclusion from an English prerequisite, so she could get into women’s literature. Her backpack was a dead weight, filled with the thick, expensive tomes required for her three summer school courses.
“I then climbed to the train platform and stood on the rails, waiting for the train to run me over.” She turned to Satish for his reaction: he flicked the turn signal and merged on to I-95, his attention on the road in front of him. She knew he wasn’t listening.
“That’s great, Nandita. Wonderful,” he said.
The rest of the drive passed in relative silence as Nandita pondered her next move with this morose brother of hers. She had repeatedly asked Satish what was going on, but he hadn’t told her a thing. It was about time for some drastic intervention, and she ran through her plan while she quietly and surreptitiously slid his phone from between the seat divider and into her bag.
“Oh, no!” said Nandita, smacking her head with her palm as she stood at the sparkling kitchen counter.
Satish looked up from the doorway where he was sorting through the mail. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I forgot the coconut milk,” said Nandita, pushing the can on the shelf beneath her farther back with her foot.
He let the mail drop back on the side table, making a small, decorative vase wobble. He reached out to steady it. “Is it necessary?”
“Of course it is!” she smiled. “I need it for your special dinner tonight. Could you please run out and get me a can? It won’t take you more than a few minutes.”
“Sure.” Satish scooped up his keys and the automated garage opener and then frowned. “Have you seen my phone?”
“You probably left it in the car. Please hurry! I’m sure you’re hungry, so I don’t want it to get too late.”
Satish smiled at his sister. “You are so thoughtful, Nandita. It’s such a pleasure having you here with me. I’m sorry I haven’t been much fun lately, but I promise I will try to be better company. After all, you are going to be here for a while.”
“Don’t be silly, Satish. I am in seventh heaven here.” She came around the counter and gave her brother a brief hug. “I’ll make you a great dinner and we can watch a movie together tonight. Ironically, I need to start educating you on some American classics. It’s The Breakfast Club, tonight.”
He smiled hesitantly again and headed out the door, and Nandita flew into action. By her estimate, she had about eleven minutes. She ran to her room and closed her door, in case he came back up looking for his phone. He does not like to be without his phone. His habit of checking it every few minutes borders on obsessive. She took the iPhone out of her pocket and stared at it. He would kill her if he found out—this kind of behavior was well out of his code of conduct.
She clicked on the messages and scrolled down the list. She had overheard many of Satish’s work conversations, so she recognized many o
f the names. If she didn’t recognize the name, it was easy to tell from the few words of the preview which ones were work-related. She shook her head. God, Satish, you are so boring! She then stopped. Maybe you’re not so boring, after all. Claire—she didn’t recognize that name. Now here were some clues as to how she could cheer up her big brother. It might take her a while, but she would figure out who this Claire was.
Satish came back through his front door in exactly eleven minutes; Nandita was standing at the counter, nonchalantly slicing vegetables. A can of coconut milk appeared before her and Satish cleared his throat weirdly. She looked up with a flush, wondering if he was somehow psychic and had guessed what she had been doing, but it was he who looked guilty. He lifted a brown, paper-wrapped package that Nandita recognized and placed it on the counter in front of her.
“I’m sure you remember this package that you kindly sourced and sent to me.” Nandita nodded and waited. “Well,” Satish continued, “it was for a… umm… a client gift, and the deal fell through, so I didn’t need it. I’m sure you can find some use for it. After all, it was expensive, and it would be a shame to see it go to waste. Would you like it?”
“I’d love it, Satish. Thank you!” Nandita said. She took the package—another clue for her to follow—and turned back to Satish. “Oh, by the way, I found your phone on the floor by the door. You must have dropped it.”
43
Claire
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the girl said, “but I am hoping that you can help me with an emergency. I need a rush job completed—I am willing to pay extra for the service, of course. Can you help me?” She stretched her hands toward Claire, extending the brown, paper package.
Claire was surprised. The shop wasn’t even open, yet, and the only commission jobs she had taken on, so far, had come directly from Sally’s connections. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for business—she needed all she could get—but something felt weird. She could swear she had seen this girl before, but she couldn’t place her. She took the package from her and smiled at her warmly.
“I’d be happy to see if there is something I can do.” She tucked the package under her arm and extended her free hand, “I’m Claire and this is my shop. Welcome.”
“Thank you,” the girl said with a relieved sigh. “My name is Mia. I need your help with what’s in that package.”
“Okay, then, let’s take a look.” Claire walked to the counter and placed the package before her. She unwrapped it slowly to uncover the most exquisite fabric she had ever seen in her life: a heavy, ivory silk with soft peach floral embroidery. The satin thread of the embroidery seemed part of the ivory fabric, so subtle and fine was the stitching. Long, leafy vines traveled the length of the bolt of fabric with explosions of bold flower blossoms throughout. It was obviously antique, and Claire laid her hands on the beauty of it, the luxury of the silk providing quiet beauty and the confident floral embroidery giving the fabric strength and power. Her hands itched to begin.
“Have you made a sari before?”
She turned to Mia. “A sari? Yes, I have. Is this fabric to become a sari?”
“Yes, actually,“ Mia said as she started to tell her story. “You see, my sister is to be wed. We thought that we had more time, but it turns out there are some personal issues her fiancé needs to resolve, so we had to bring the wedding forward. I expect we will need the dress in three to four weeks. Is that even possible?”
Maureen had wandered over and peeked inside the package. “Oh, gosh—that’s gorgeous! Your sister will look like heaven in a dress made of that, especially if Claire makes it. She’s a wizard.” She smiled at the girl and held out her hand, “Maureen.”
“Oh, Maureen!” Mia said with a smile of pleasure as though she knew her. “What a pretty name!”
“Thanks,” she said and looked at her quizzically.
Claire ran her hands over the fabric and frowned slightly. Four weeks was not a long time, but the shop was ready, and she would have entire days to herself just to create and sew. The luxury of that time stretched out before her, and she decided that she couldn't think of anything more enjoyable than creating something of beauty from this amazing fabric. It would be soothing and restorative and may just save her sanity, now that she didn’t have the pressure of preparing the shop to distract her. She just had one important question, first.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I know that this is probably a rude question, but I have to ask for a personal reason. I know I could create something stunning from this treasure, but… is this an arranged marriage?”
Mia laughed. “It’s not a rude question at all. I understand that customs outside of their own culture can seem strange to others. Arranged marriages have their place, but I can assure you, without a doubt, that this is not an arranged marriage. This is one of the most beautiful love matches I have ever had the pleasure of watching unfold. My sister is a very lucky girl, as her fiancé is smitten with her. I happen to know that he can’t stop thinking about her and would marry her tomorrow, given the opportunity.”
Claire let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. She wasn’t sure if she would have said no to this job if it had been for an arranged marriage, but she knew that the experience would not have been as calming and enjoyable if Satish and his prospective wife would be on her mind the entire time. She was desperate to create with this fabric, though, and couldn’t wait to get started.
“Mia, I would love to work with you and create some magic. Why don’t you bring your sister by for measurements this week? If it’s alright with you, I can email you information about my rates and some contract stuff. I don’t think rush rates will be necessary, but we can finalize the details after we finish the fitting, if that works for you?”
“Oh, Claire, that would be wonderful!” she did a little hop and clapped her hands like a child. “We can come back tomorrow evening! I am so excited to begin this relationship—I know it will be a successful one.”
Claire smiled at her enthusiasm. She seemed very young, and she spent a second feeling jealous of her naiveté. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt true joy; unfortunately, every moment since she had last seen Satish had been burdened by sadness. She hoped she would someday get over it, but it felt like that someday was a long way away.
44
Satish
Satish was trying to keep his annoyance at bay. “I don't have time for this, Nandita. I have a great deal of work to catch up on. I was looking forward to an evening at home.”
He looked across at his sister in the passenger seat. He loved her and was happy to have her company—it definitely helped to distract him from the huge hole left by Claire’s absence—but he couldn’t help feeling a little irritated. He really did have a lot of work, yet Nandita had some hare-brained scheme to go to some “must-try” restaurant in Hoboken. He wasn’t sure why they had to go that far when there were perfectly wonderful restaurants in his neighborhood, but she was unmovable.
“Relax, big brother; I promise you an evening of adventure. You could use a little adventure in your life. You’ll fuse into that office chair if you sit your behind in it any longer.”
“Nandita,” Satish scolded with a snort of laughter. Sometimes she really did remind him of Claire. He loved her wild independence and her disregard of how she was supposed to be. He struggled to imagine any Indian man of his generation being sympathetic to her obvious strength and ambition. He smiled at the thought of Naveen having his work cut out for him when Nandita came home—if she ever made it home, that was. She had settled into American life quickly and easily, and she seemed comfortable and happy. Even now, her smooth cheeks were flushed pink with excitement at the prospect of a restaurant meal.
“Keep your eyes peeled for a parking spot,” Satish said as they turned left onto Washington Street. “You know we will need to get lucky on a Saturday evening.”
Lucky they were: as Satish executed a perfect parallel park, Nandita dug into
her bag at her feet. “We’re not going to the restaurant,” she said, turning abruptly to her brother with a triumphant look on her face and a sheet of paper in her hand.
Satish turned off the ignition and turned to his sister. The seatbelt dug into his side, so he unbuckled it and let it go absent-mindedly as he turned to her, confused and exasperated. “You made me drive all the way to Hoboken for no reason?” he asked. “Or is this big adventure something else?” He stared at the paper in Nandita’s hand in alarm as a thought occurred to him. “I want to make it clear to you that I do not do scavenger hunts.”
“Don’t be silly! It’s not a scavenger hunt,” she said, slapping his arm with the folded paper. “Why would you have to search for something you have already found?”
Satish sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I had a lot of work to do tonight, but you insisted that this restaurant was not to be missed. Why aren’t we going? Can you please explain before I start the car again?”
“It’s about Jaya—it’s important.”
“Jaya? Is she okay?” Satish’s thoughts flashed to his intended, and he was embarrassed that he had trouble picturing her face.
“She’s fine, Satish—actually, she’s great—but… she doesn’t like you.”
His brow crumpled in confusion. “She doesn’t like me? We have only met twice; she doesn’t know me, yet. Nandita,” he felt the stirrings of anger and frustration, “have you been dissuading her? Have you been filling her with stories of ’sparks’ and ’true love’ and Naveen? It’s one thing to turn your own family upside-down, but to do this to another is—”
“Satish, Satish, relax.” Nandita bounced in her seat and reached out to cover her brother’s mouth.
Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1) Page 21
