The Sari Shop Widow

by Shobhan Bantwal

  Jeevan-kaka’s handgun was nowhere in sight, thank goodness. Anjali had a feeling Rishi Shah had advised him to keep it out of sight.

  She ate her dinner in silence and watched everyone else talk at the table. Naturally it was all about the business. Her parents were both surprised and excited that Tejmal had agreed to sell his place. Until now Anjali hadn’t really thought about it, but she was going to miss that quaint old man. He’d been a bit of a pain in the rear with his sloppy ways and his refusal to clean up his eyesore of a shop, but he was a decent man and he’d been a kind neighbor.

  Earlier, as they’d sat down to dinner, Anjali had been afraid that Rishi might bring up their meeting at the bar, but he’d kept his mouth shut. He must have noticed her discomfort because less than five minutes into the meal his eyes had connected briefly with hers across the table, and she’d known right away that her secret was safe. She’d thrown him a grateful look and gone back to her food.

  “Why are you so quiet, Anju?” said Jeevan-kaka, drawing her out of her reverie.

  “I’m listening to all of you talk,” she said absently.

  Jeevan-kaka gave her a benign smile. “Tomorrow your father, Rishi, and I will be talking to some contractors for estimates.”

  “I see.” As usual her uncle had assumed it was a man’s place to deal with the contractors. She and her mother hadn’t been invited to the talks.

  Rishi was the one who stunned her. “Anjali and Auntie are equal partners in the business. They should be involved in the meeting,” he said.

  Her uncle frowned at Rishi. “But this is men’s work.”

  Rishi shook his head. “The two of them manage a large portion of the business, and a lot of Anjali’s money is tied up in the store. She’s the main driving force behind Silk & Sapphires. We need both the ladies’ input on everything.” He glanced at her. “Don’t you want to be involved, Anjali?”

  “Of course I do!” she snapped. And immediately regretted it. It wasn’t his fault that her uncle was a chauvinist. “Thank you for including Mom and me, Rishi,” she said, “although Jeevan-kaka seems to think women have no place in such matters.” She had to admit Rishi was being fair. Besides, he hadn’t given away her secret.

  Surprisingly, Jeevan accepted the women’s involvement with no further protest. The man had changed so much. The old Jeevan would have fought it tooth and nail.

  Her mother looked a bit more at ease, too. She was smiling at something and seemed completely immersed in the conversation. Secretly Anjali hoped her uncle would continue to stay on his best behavior as long as he was in the U.S.

  After the meal, she and her mother washed and dried the dishes. Since it was late, her parents went directly to bed and so did Jeevan-kaka. Rishi announced that he was going for a walk and took off.

  She decided to watch a little television on her own, catch the late news, hoping she could unwind a little. Perhaps Nilesh would come home before she went to bed. She was curious to find out how he knew about Rowling Rok and the fact that she went there often.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been on the couch before falling asleep. She woke up with a start when someone touched her shoulder. She blinked at the dark shadow outlined against the light coming from the TV. She smiled. “Hi, Nil.”

  “Anjali.” It wasn’t her brother.

  “Rishi?” Realizing she was stretched out on the couch, she quickly sat up.

  “Sorry to wake you,” he whispered. “But shouldn’t you be sleeping in your bed?”

  “I must have dozed off watching the news.”

  “You must be very tired. Why don’t you go on up? I’ll take care of shutting off the lights. I’ve already checked the locks.”

  “Thanks. Did you have a good walk?”

  “Yes. It’s an interesting neighborhood. And the weather’s nice tonight—not too hot.”

  “You must find our summer weather unbearable after London’s cool humidity.”

  He shrugged. “I’m used to Hong Kong, Singapore, and India, too.”

  “Oh, of course.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Do you know if Nilesh is home yet?”

  “His car isn’t in the driveway. He must be studying hard for his exam.”

  “Poor kid,” she said. “I remember the days when I crammed for an exam at the last minute and drove myself nuts. Feels like so long ago.”

  Instead of walking away, Rishi raised a brow at her. “Mind if I sit with you and talk for a bit?”

  “Be my guest.”

  He sat down beside her on the couch. “I remember the frenzied days and nights before exams, too. Although for me it’s been even longer than you. I feel old when I look at Nilesh and all his energy.”

  “I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel like Nil’s mother and not his sister.”

  Rishi chuckled. “You don’t at all look like his mother. You look much too young for that.”

  “Thanks, but I’m eighteen years older than Nil, you know.”

  “Couldn’t tell by your looks. You could pass for a university student.”

  “You don’t look so old yourself.” She meant it, too. He didn’t have a single wrinkle or gray hair. He had a body most men half his age would kill for. He was probably in his…late thirties or perhaps forty from what she’d gathered so far.

  “I’m forty-two, Anjali. That’s five years older than you are.” He stared thoughtfully at the TV for a second. “I’m old enough to be Nilesh’s father.”

  “My father was older than you when Nil was born.” Seeing his brows raised in surprise, she said, “And my mother was nearly forty.”

  “Is that right? They must be a very…um…romantic couple,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  She smothered a snicker. “Romantic in their own way—in private. Looking at them you’d never know, though. They don’t even touch each other in public.”

  “Most old-fashioned Indian folks are that way.” He gazed at the TV again for a bit. “Tell me, how did you feel about having a newborn sibling at eighteen?”

  “I hated it. Can you imagine the shock of discovering your parents are having a baby when you’re just about ready to enter college?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I suppose it was a bit embarrassing for you. What would your friends say and all that?”

  Anjali rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even tell my friends for the longest time. I didn’t want my mother to be seen in that condition.”

  A deep, rumbling chuckle emerged from him. “Poor little Anjali. You were no longer the only child.”

  “And what’s worse, the baby turned out to be a boy. In our culture a boy is only one or two tiny steps below God.”

  “I know that,” said Rishi. “Despite my looks I’m half Indian.”

  “Although I must admit I didn’t know how good I had it then,” she said wistfully. “Life was so much simpler when Mom and Dad could worry about the business and the finances and my job was just to be a good student and earn good grades.”

  “And did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Earn good grades?” He seemed very intense all of a sudden.

  She felt her breath get a little shaky at his closeness. He sat only a couple of feet away. “Mostly As and an occasional B. My GPA was around 3.8.”

  “That’s very good.”

  “How about you? Were you an A student at Oxford, Rishi?” She was surprised at how easily his name glided off her tongue, now that she’d accepted it.

  “Not always, but I managed to get my master’s degree if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “But Jeevan-kaka says you’re a business whiz, a genius.”

  Rishi leaned back, locked his hands behind him and rested his head on them. “Have you noticed how real life has very little to do with what you learn in a classroom, Anjali?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, that’s what this is. I like what I do and
discovered at an early age that I had a head for business. The advanced degree was simply something to build up my credentials. I could have done well enough without it, but in the world of business consulting it helps to have that beside my name.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s impressive to have an Oxford MBA on your business card when you’re meeting the CEO of a corporation.”

  “Exactly.” He turned to her with a smile.

  Seeing that transforming smile once again, Anjali realized that she was actually having an amiable conversation with this guy. When had that started to happen? Only hours ago she’d been sitting in a bar with him, resenting his having witnessed her kiss a man in public. But here she was now, sharing memories of college days with him like an old friend.

  Looking at the clock, she rose to her feet. “I better go to bed.”

  Rishi got to his feet, too. “Anjali.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ve been meaning to explain something to you…in private.”

  “Oh?”

  “Since we’re alone now I’d like to make it clear that neither Jeevan-kaka nor I have any plans to stay here permanently or tell you how to run your boutique. The business is yours and we’ll leave it entirely up to you once the expansion is complete.”

  “I see.” This evening was filled with surprises.

  “Just thought you should know that.” He absently rubbed the back of his neck. “By the way, were you afraid I’d spill the beans? About your boyfriend, I mean?”

  She stiffened immediately. Now why did he have to go and spoil a perfectly friendly moment, a brief moment of bonding? “Yes, I was.” She was terrified, actually.

  “You know I wouldn’t do something like that. You can trust me.”

  “I don’t really know you.”

  “You’re getting to know me, aren’t you?” He gave her one of those laser-beam looks that left her feeling exposed.

  “I suppose.”

  “And are you beginning to at least accept the idea that I’m here to help and not take away what’s yours?”

  She gave herself a second to answer that one as honestly as she could. “I’m trying.”

  “Fair enough,” he said and shut off the television and the lamp beside the couch. “I can’t ask for more than that.” He waited for her to go upstairs first and then followed her. They wished each other good night, went into their separate rooms, and closed their doors.

  A little while later, just as Anjali settled into bed, she heard Nilesh come in and head for the basement. She breathed a sigh of relief. Despite what she’d said to Rishi earlier, she loved her brother dearly. Life would have been quite bland without Nilesh.

  That night, Anjali dreamed of Vikram. It had been a while since she’d had a dream about him. When she woke up, she could almost feel Vik’s presence in the room. At times she felt she could reach out and touch Vik sleeping next to her.

  Did every woman who’d loved her husband and lost him feel like she did? Even when she slept with Kip, her mind always conjured up an image of Vik’s face. It was always Vik loving her, making her feel alive. She could still visualize the cleft in his chin, eyes that slanted upward, the expressions that flitted across his face. She could recall some of their conversations word for word.

  Had she hooked up with Kip because the way he made love was reminiscent of Vik’s style? Did his sense of humor remind her of Vik? Every once in a while, on lonely nights, she pulled out photo albums of their life together and gazed at the pictures. So many years, and he still haunted her dreams and her waking moments. And the tears still came—drenching tears that sometimes didn’t subside for a long time.

  Would she ever be able to let go of Vik?

  Chapter 13

  The closing on Tejmal’s store occurred less than a week later. Anjali studied the legal document. The five of them were now partners in the new venture. She had come to accept that fact. And to be honest, Jeevan-kaka wasn’t quite as bad to live with as she’d imagined.

  Even her mother’s nerves were beginning to settle and they had all slipped into a routine. As long as Jeevan-kaka got his saffron milk three times a day along with his insipid food, he was fine. His gun hadn’t been seen since that first day and he’d agreed to use her mother’s small silver bell for his morning pooja instead of the humongous brass one that had awakened them that first morning.

  On the evening of the closing, as they sat down to dinner, Rishi made a surprise announcement. “I want to tell you folks something,” he said. “You’ve been most kind to put me up all these days, but I feel I should move into a hotel.”

  Anjali’s head snapped up. She could feel the others’ attention immediately aroused, too.

  Jeevan was the first to speak. “Why?”

  Rishi looked at him. “Uncle and Auntie have been very generous in accommodating me, a total stranger, with no advance notice whatsoever. But I dislike taking advantage of them. Now that we all know I’ll be required to be here for some time, I’ve decided that a hotel room would be best.”

  “It’s so much easier for us to discuss business in this house. We’re all here…together.” Jeevan-kaka seemed reluctant to see the younger man leave.

  Anjali wondered once again about the relationship between those two. Why was her uncle so dependent on Rishi? For a stubborn, independent old man, Jeevan-kaka was like a fretting, clinging child when it came to Rishi.

  “I’m not going too far,” replied Rishi, “only a phone call away. We’ll all be spending some eight or ten hours at the store together every day.”

  Mohan glanced at Rishi. “Are you uncomfortable here, beta?”

  “Not at all, Uncle. On the contrary, I’m getting very spoiled by all this delicious home-cooked food and a nice room to myself. But Nilesh shouldn’t have to give up his space permanently. It would be most inconsiderate of me to take advantage of his good nature.”

  Nilesh had joined them at the dinner table that evening. “Hey, it’s no problem, man,” he said. “It’s not like I spend a lot of time at home anyway.”

  “That’s not the point, Nilesh. It’s your room, and the longer I stay the longer I’m imposing on you and your family. Besides, you’re a student and you need your own quiet area to study.”

  Good for Rishi, Anjali mentally applauded. She’d been wondering how long she’d have to share a bathroom with a stranger. It was bad enough that her uncle was going to be around for months.

  And then she had to be careful how she dressed in her own home at nights and how she behaved. Since that comment Rishi had made about her legs, she’d made sure to wear pajamas to bed instead of her short nightgowns. But she had to admit he’d been a gentleman since then. Come to think of it, even that particular remark hadn’t been really lewd. It was more like a clinical assessment. She’d read too much into it for some reason.

  He seemed to be considerate about some things. He took all his laundry to the cleaners, preferring not to hog up their washer and dryer. Of course, all those expensive clothes he wore had to be professionally cleaned. He ate whatever her mother put on the table and never complained about anything. He often brought home snacks, fruit, pastries, and desserts that the whole family enjoyed. In most ways he was the ideal guest.

  But it would be a relief to have him out of her house, mainly because he made her so uneasy. All kinds of weird emotions that had been buried for years were creeping up on her again and she didn’t want them to complicate her life.

  Her mother seemed upset at Rishi’s news, too, surprising Anjali. Usha had been the unhappiest of them all at having to entertain a stranger.

  “But you’re always welcome at our house, Rishi,” Usha said. “You may not be family, but you’re like family to us. We enjoy having you here.”

  Rishi reached across the table and patted Usha’s hand. “Likewise, Auntie, I enjoy being here, but I respect your privacy.” He paused. “And I don’t want to outstay my welcome. I’ll move into a hotel tomorrow.”

  Jeevan-k
aka gave Rishi a thoroughly disgruntled look. “I thought we agreed that you and I would be together while we worked on this project.”

  Rishi sent the old man an indulgent smile. “Who says we won’t be together while we work? The hotel room is mainly for bed and bath.”

  Sufficiently mollified, Jeevan-kaka went back to his meal.

  The thought of Rishi leaving them seemed to bring a certain contemplative air to the table. The rest of the meal was unusually quiet, with only a few minor references to the day’s business. After dinner, Nilesh excused himself and left for the library.

  After the dishes were cleared and the kitchen cleaned up, Rishi said to Anjali, “I think we should talk about the ideas for the store’s interior. Didn’t you say you’ve drawn some sketches already?”

  Anjali nodded and ran to her room to fetch them. But she was hesitant about sharing them with the others. Her expertise was in clothing and jewelry design and she knew nothing about building plans or blueprints. All she had was a rough idea of where everything should be placed based on the crude rectangles Rishi had drawn the other day.

  By the time she came back downstairs her mother had cleared the dining table of its pickle jars and condiments so Anjali could spread her designs on it. Reluctantly she showed them her drawings, which were more like landscape paintings of each area, colors and all.

  “These are nice, beta,” her mother said after giving them a cursory look. “Very artistic.”

  “But not professional. I’m not sure how to go about showing the dimensions and all that technical stuff architects do.”

  Jeevan-kaka looked a little lost as he turned the sheets this way and that. Her father had a slight frown on his face. It was hard to say what they were thinking.

  She glanced at Rishi, who was studying them with narrowed eyes. She was most nervous about his criticism. For some reason his opinion mattered. Of everyone present, he seemed to be the most knowledgeable about store design and also the most sophisticated. Besides, he owned boutiques in some of the swankiest malls and shopping centers of the world.

  “This is pretty good, Anjali,” he said finally.