The Sari Shop Widow

by Shobhan Bantwal

  “Um…if…”

  “No ifs or buts, Miss Kapadia. I’m taking you to my room tonight and that’s that.” He’d left her frowning and staring at his back.

  Had he turned bossier lately or was he always like that? She’d realized she rather liked it. She had resented his brand of assertiveness in the beginning, but it had grown on her. Maybe she was so crazy in love with him that she’d begun to look at him in a different light.

  At nearly 9:00 P.M., there was still one last customer browsing in the aisles. Anjali caught her mother’s impatient look. The doors were supposed to close at 8:30 P.M., but opening day was special. It was the one opportunity to make a dazzling and lasting impression on customers, and have them spread the word. Anjali realized she was dead tired, and so was the rest of the family, but until the last customer left, the store would remain open.

  Naren-kaka, his wife, and Sejal had left a while ago. Mohan had taken Jeevan-kaka and Nilesh home and then returned to help clean up. All the employees were gone, too.

  Rishi was on his cell phone out in the parking lot. She’d been watching him through the window for the past several minutes, pacing as he spoke into the phone. He was in the habit of walking while he handled business calls. His limp looked a little more pronounced than it had that morning. She’d begun to notice the subtle changes in his gait, like when he was tired or he hadn’t exercised in a day or two.

  Sometimes she wondered how he’d managed before the advent of cell phones. He used his constantly and it stayed on night and day since his other businesses were in different time zones. It interrupted him frequently. But he’d promised her he’d keep it off when they were intimate together. And he’d kept his promise the other night. That phone had remained silent all the while she was there.

  It was a little past nine by the time she rang up the lingering customer’s purchases, saw her out, and locked the front door.

  Usha came out of the office. “She finally left?”

  “She bought quite a bit, Mom—well worth the extra half hour,” Anjali said.

  “Thank goodness.” Her mother looked around. “Where’s Rishi?”

  “He’s on his phone in the parking lot.”

  “In spite of his other concerns he worked so hard today, did you see?” Usha looked out the window before shifting her gaze to Anjali.

  “Yeah, can’t say he’s merely a silent partner. He’s definitely hands-on.”

  Usha’s eyes on Anjali sharpened. “Did you notice how well he got along with the customers?”

  Anjali knew where this was leading. “Mm-hmm.” Better nip it in the bud before her mother started reaching silly conclusions, she decided. “I better clean up.” Picking up the handheld vacuum cleaner stashed in the office, she proceeded to do spot cleaning wherever she saw the need. From the corner of her eye she noticed her mother returning to the office.

  A few minutes later, Rishi walked in through the café door, pocketing his phone. “So, are we ready to call it a day?” he asked Anjali.

  “I guess so. Check with my parents, will you?”

  He threw a cautious glance around before approaching her. Without warning he picked her up by the waist, gave her a quick whirl, then placed her back on her feet, taking her by surprise and leaving her breathless. “Congratulations! You did it, darling!” His hands remained circling her waist.

  “With your help and Jeevan-kaka’s,” she reminded him, trying to recover from his unexpected exuberance.

  “I’m taking you to dinner for a private celebration.”

  She gently removed his hands. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s been a long day and everyone’s tired.” She gave the place one last glance. “Besides, shouldn’t this be a joint celebration? All of us are in it together.”

  He mulled over it for a second. “You’re right. We’ll all go out together. After that, we’ll see if we can find some time alone.”

  “Jeevan-kaka can’t stand to eat restaurant food, remember?”

  He dismissed it with a wave. “I’m sure we can find something nice and bland for him. Your poor mother’s ready to drop from exhaustion. It’s not fair to make her go home and put a meal on the table at this hour.” He looked at his watch and whipped out his cell phone. “I’ll call Uncle Naren and invite his family. They worked almost as hard to make this a success.” Just before he dialed, he looked at her. “Does India House restaurant sound okay to you?”

  “Sure.”

  Rishi waited for his telephone to connect with Naren Kapadia’s. Leaning against the counter, he watched Anjali go about her chores: picking up this and straightening out that. She clearly couldn’t relax. He sensed the nervous energy vibrating around her. She needed to unwind soon or she was going to snap.

  He knew the feeling of working for months toward a goal and then watching it unfold. It was an emotional high that was hard to descend from. Sometimes, depending on the stakes, it stayed for days, even weeks, but you had to let yourself step down from it and walk away for a bit, or the mental overload could break you in half.

  He’d hoped to take her to his suite right after the store closed, help her relax, but she obviously had other ideas. However, she was right: it should be a joint celebration, a family venture, and it would be selfish on his part to keep it private.

  When Naren finally picked up the phone, he seemed reluctant to get out of the house. “We are all changed and ready for bed, Rishi,” he grumbled. “We ate some leftovers after we got home. Usha gave us plenty to bring home.”

  “What about Sejal? Does she want to join us?”

  “Sejal is studying; she has an exam on Monday.”

  “Never mind, then. How’s tomorrow night for you?”

  Naren sounded more eager about that. “That sounds good. So where are we going?”

  “I’ll make reservations at India House. We’ll meet you there after the store closes.”

  Concluding his conversation with Naren, Rishi made the reservations, then went into the office. He found Mohan and Usha getting ready to leave for home. Usha smiled at him. “I was just on my way to get Anjali.”

  “Would you mind if I took Anjali out to dinner, Auntie?”

  Usha threw an uneasy glance at her husband and then at Rishi. “Umm…isn’t it a little late to go out?”

  He laughed. “A storeowner calls this late?” But he noticed Mohan looking just as edgy as his wife.

  “Well, it’s just that…you know…” Usha had a furrow between her brows.

  “Auntie, are you worried about Anju and me seeing too much of each other?”

  She threw another quick glance at her husband. “Yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We’d like to talk to you privately about it sometime, Rishi. There’s something we need to discuss.”

  “Is it urgent?”

  “I wouldn’t call it urgent, but it’s important. Jeevan-bhai and I had a chat the other day and he told me a few things…about his relationship to your family and you…how much he owes you and your father.”

  “I see.”

  “He also told me you have a live-in girlfriend.”

  Rishi noticed the subtle emphasis. “I’ll be happy to talk to you tomorrow.” He could tell from Mohan’s expression that he didn’t want to be included in the conversation. “You name the time, Auntie.” When she agreed, he added, “By the way, I’m taking everyone out tomorrow to celebrate at India House. I’ve already cleared it with Naren-kaka and his family. How about you?”

  Usha’s face brightened. “That’ll be nice.”

  “I believe you’re long overdue for a break from kitchen duty.”

  She sighed. “You’re not kidding.”

  “So, is it all right if I take Anjali out tonight?”

  “I guess…if it’s okay with her.” Usha followed her husband out the door. “Make sure you bring her home, okay? She doesn’t have her car here.”

 
“I’ll drive her home.”

  Rishi stood for a moment, mulling over Usha’s request for a private talk. She was clearly worried about whatever was brewing between him and her daughter. And he found that surprisingly endearing. It was a mother’s prerogative to be concerned about her children. But what was he going to tell her? He had a whole list of plans, but none of them had been discussed with Anju. If she balked at them, every one of them would pop like soap bubbles.

  He shut the door to the office and went in search of Anju.

  He expected her to be dusting or mopping or some such thing. He needed to rescue her from that kind of obsessive-compulsive behavior. Instead, to his amazement, he found her sitting on a low footstool inside the Zanana, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms hugging them. He came to a standstill. With mostly her back toward him he couldn’t see her expression, but she seemed pensive, melancholy.

  That aura of sadness never seemed to leave her. Even when she laughed, the despondency seemed to hover just beneath the surface.

  Staring at nothing in particular, she sat motionless, oblivious to his presence. In fact, she was so still she could easily pass for one of those mannequins she’d meticulously dressed. His immediate instinct was to go to her, find out if she needed comforting. But he watched her silently for a minute. Would he ever be able to eliminate the lurking shadows from her life? He sure as hell wanted to try.

  Reluctant to startle her, he called her name softly. “Anju.”

  She turned around. “Hi.”

  “A penny for your thoughts. Dollar? Euro?”

  She gave a sad shake of her head, the gesture tugging at his heartstrings. “Priceless. Did you round up the clan for dinner?”

  “No. Everyone’s gone home. They all seemed disinclined to go out, so we’re set for tomorrow night at India House.” He stepped forward and offered his hands to help her rise to her feet. “What were you so deep in thought about? Still worried?”

  She slid into his welcoming arms as naturally as he’d hoped. “I was decompressing. After all the excitement of the last several weeks it’s finally happened.”

  “And what a smashing success it was.”

  “Some months ago, when Dad mentioned bankruptcy, I panicked. I was going to lose everything I’d worked for over a decade.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “And now…” She took a long, tremulous breath. “Now I look around and I can’t believe all this is partly mine. It’s so beautiful—what I’d dreamed about for years. Vik and I had planned to start an international chain of boutiques someday. He was going to be my financial manager and I was going to be the designer queen. We used to talk about it often.” Her smile was the saddest Rishi had ever seen. “Only it never happened.”

  “But it’s happening now. And the rest of it will happen, too, if you keep that dream alive.” He traced the outline of her lower lip with his thumb. “I could make it all come true for you.”

  “Most of it is the clichéd pie-in-the-sky. Besides, you’ve already done too much.” She stood on tiptoes and placed a light kiss on his lips. “Thank you. I hope I can fulfill my end of the bargain—keep this business healthy.”

  “You will. And there’s something else I want to discuss with you later.” He didn’t like to see the distress in her eyes, but he could do something about erasing it. Maybe it was that unexpected quality of vulnerability that had attracted him to her in the first place.

  The other women he’d been involved with hadn’t needed him, whereas Anjali did. He’d never before considered himself a protective sort of man, but now he wanted to do it all—for this one woman.

  He was in love with Anjali. For the first time in forty-two years he could honestly say he was in love.

  His mother would get a good chuckle out of that, he thought with an inward smile. She’d always warned him that love was a strange thing. She’d told him how, as a pretty young woman with a good nursing career ahead of her, she’d been offered love and marriage by at least two good-looking men. She’d turned down their offers and gone off in search of adventure and to answer her calling. Then she had gone against her devout Christian parents’ wishes and married a Hindu.

  She often said to Rishi, “You’ll stumble into it when you least expect it.”

  He’d looked into his mother’s twinkling gray eyes and laughed. “Mum, I’m over forty, in case you haven’t noticed. If I haven’t found it yet, it’s bloody well never going to happen.”

  “Look what happened to me,” she’d pointed out. “The Lord took your father, but years later he put another good man in my life.” With that she’d sent her husband, Charles, an affectionate glance. Charles Mallory was an upstanding, solid man. Rishi was genuinely fond of his stepfather.

  And now Rishi had stumbled into love. But convincing Anjali of that was going to be a major hurdle. Besides, he had no idea how she felt about him.

  Chapter 26

  Anjali lay with her head resting on Rishi’s shoulder, wondering how she’d ended up in his bed again. She’d managed to keep away from his suite for an entire week despite his efforts to entice her. The temptation had been fierce. If it weren’t for the loads of work at the store, she would have given in to the urge and let the future take care of itself.

  Tonight had been a repeat of that other night. Rishi had been a tender and ardent lover. He’d offered her a glimpse of bliss again and again. He had shown her what physical love combined with emotional love could be. The only problem was he was in it for the short term. Very short.

  He hadn’t said when he was leaving, but it had to be soon. The store was on its feet and he’d done his part to make sure everything was running smoothly. Jeevan-kaka hadn’t said anything so far either. Tomorrow was probably when the two men would make an announcement about their departure.

  She dreaded it.

  It hurt like hell to think Rishi would be leaving soon. But it didn’t mean the end of the world, either. She’d survived the loneliness before and she’d survive it again.

  “Why the frown?” Rishi’s voice drew her back to the present. “Was it that bad?” He’d been lazily running his fingers up and down her arm.

  “It was fabulous, and you know it,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was frowning.”

  “I thought you were contemplating how to let me down gently.”

  “Funny how we were both thinking the same thing.”

  “So you were planning on jilting me.”

  “No, I was wondering if you were going to say something like, ‘It’s been mah-velous knowing you, dah-ling. I’m returning to London tomorrow, so it’s—’”

  “I love you.”

  “—ta-ta for now—” She sat up, unmindful of the sheet sliding down to her naked waist. “What did you say?”

  “I love you.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  His eyebrows snapped together. “I most certainly do.”

  “Well…” She’d hoped for it and dreamed about it, but now that he’d said it, she was speechless.

  “Is that all you can say?” He folded his arms across his chest.

  Pulling the sheet up to her chin, she took two deep breaths. “It’s a little unexpected.”

  “After the two nights you’ve spent in my arms, it’s still unexpected, Anju?” The scowl eased a little but he looked puzzled.

  “Why are you so surprised at my reaction?” she said. “I thought you’d be telling me we could be friends and that if you happened to be in the U.S. on business in the future, and if we can make the time, we could sleep togeth—”

  He reached over and clamped a hand across her mouth. “Marry me.”

  She caught his wrist and slowly lowered his hand. “Marry?”

  Tugging on her hair, he gently urged her to settle back on the pillow. “Yes, marry me.” He studied her face for a long moment. “You look like I just asked you to jump off the nearest cliff.”

  It hit her then, sending her brain into a tailspin. Love. Marriage. S
he knew he wasn’t lying. Those eyes looked as sincere as anything she’d ever seen. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d lie—at least not about something like this. And yet, despite the heart-busting euphoria, she couldn’t really follow through with it.

  Ordinarily, this would have been a dream come true: marry the man she was giddy in love with, someone who’d come along when she’d least expected it. He was smart, good-looking, sophisticated, funny, and a dynamite lover. Was he a little too perfect?

  When she didn’t respond, he said, “We’d be good together. We’re in the same sort of business. Since we both travel we could do it together most of the time. We could complement each other personally, professionally, in every way.”

  “Sounds delightful, but I…I can’t marry you.”

  “Why?”

  “I have obligations here. My parents can’t run the store by themselves.”

  “They’re more capable than you give them credit for, Anju,” he said in rational tone.

  “But now there are multiple departments and new employees and so much more floor area and merchandise,” she pointed out. “Mom’s bright and fashion oriented, but she’s not into it as much as I am.”

  “I’ve thought about all that.”

  “When?”

  “Since I fell in love with you that’s all I’ve been thinking about, making plans for the future, seeing how you could expand your talents to other areas.”

  She threw him a wary look. “But my talents are needed here.”

  “I know that, but you could start designing clothes and accessories for our other stores in other countries.”

  “You mean your fancy boutiques will accept my humble designs?”

  “They’re not humble; they’re very appealing and they’re versatile enough to grab the attention of mainstream stores, the ones that sell standard western clothes.”

  She angled a puzzled look at him, the first faint stirrings of excitement kicking in. “You mean my clothes could make it on the international circuit?”

  “I could make it happen for you.”