by Mona Shroff
He put his drink down, laying his hands on either side of it, and fixed his gaze on her. “Why are we here, Annika?”
She put on a smile. “We’re on date. I called you, asked you out, and here we are.”
He leaned back and shook his head. “I get that. But why?”
“Why are we on a date?” Annika narrowed her eyes at him, as if that were a ridiculous question, when in reality she knew exactly what he was asking.
“Yes, Annika.” He exhaled heavily. “Why are we on a date that you clearly do not want to be on?”
“That’s not true. I like you and—” Annika sagged in her seat at his withering look. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, I swear. I’m trying, I really am.”
He sat back and straightened his back. “Jeez, Annika. My ego is pretty healthy, but come on.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She was an idiot. And possibly a terrible person. She had no business being here on a date with Sajan when she clearly had no romantic feelings for him, and never would. She had great affection for him as a friend, but that was all.
“Oh, God, Sajan. I’m an idiot.” She started to reach into her purse for cash to pay for their drinks. “You’re right. I never should have called when I’m—”
“Clearly still in love with Daniel.” Sadness fell over Sajan’s face, and he sank into his seat.
Annika pressed her lips together and faced him. “Is it that obvious?”
Sajan nodded. “Yep.”
“Ugh. I’m really sorry. You must think I’m awful—and you wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. You’re a lovely person, and I enjoy your company, and our parents—”
Sajan held his hand up to stop her. “Are wrong plenty of times.” He sighed. “And you’re not an awful person. You’re trying to make your parents happy. And if it’s any consolation, I knew this couldn’t be a real date when I accepted it.”
“How’d you know that?”
He grinned. “I work with Daniel from time to time. He looks worse than you.” Sajan studied her a moment. “Want to know what I think, as a friend?”
Annika smiled. “Of course.”
“I’m guessing he broke up with you?”
Annika nodded.
“Daniel has some serious demons that he has not dealt with. This breakup is about fear.”
Annika sat up and stared at him, a light slowly going on in her head.
“Daniel’s a healer,” Sajan continued. “And I don’t mean just his job. I mean that’s who he is.”
“And he can’t heal himself.” Annika spoke slowly as the realization hit her. “He’s afraid to heal himself. Because he’s afraid of losing her all over again.” Of course. This wasn’t about her judgment. Daniel was a good man. A really good man. And his love for her was true. But she could not fight his demons for him. He had to do that on his own. He had to want to.
She pressed her lips together in a small smile and finished her drink. “Thank you.” She placed her empty glass down. “Listen, I don’t have any other plans tonight. Want another round? My treat.” She let her eyes rest on him, hoping he’d agree. “I’ll even spring for food.”
“Well, if you’re treating, hell yeah.” He laughed and motioned for their waiter.
* * *
ANNIKA FINISHED PLEATING Naya’s sari and pulled the pleated section down over her cousin’s shoulder. “Stay still,” she commanded through a mouthful of safety pins. She sounded like her mother. When the hell had that happened?
“It doesn’t have to be perfect. We’re just trying it on.” Naya squirmed.
“Just stay still,” Annika demanded as she pinned and wrapped Naya in her wedding sari until Naya was perfection. The sari was the traditional white with a red border, with fine beading throughout. Naya would make a beautiful bride.
“I think you do just a nice, simple updo, the red and white flowers accenting it, and that’s good. What do you think?”
“I love it.” Naya was slightly giddy. “What about you guys?”
“I had your mom get us all the same sari in that blue you like so much, right?”
Naya nodded her approval. “Honestly, whatever makes my mom happy at this point.”
Annika grinned. A diva her cousin was not. Which boded well, since they had barely a few months to plan this thing.
“Lucky that Ravi was so persistent, eh?” Annika teased.
“Can’t fight true love.” Naya flushed.
“Too bad you didn’t believe that a few months ago. We would’ve had more time to plan this.” Annika studied her cousin.
“It’s part of the compromise with his parents. We go to the Peace Corps, but we get married first.” Naya shrugged. “Ravi and I had already wanted to be married, so pushing it up a few months seemed reasonable.”
“To everyone but those of us who are planning.”
“Stop complaining! You love this.”
“I was talking about your mom.”
“Yeah,” Naya conceded. “She’s going crazy.” She shrugged. “She’ll be fine.”
Annika fidgeted with Naya’s sari for another moment. “You should wear it like this, mermaid-style. It’s super flattering.”
“Whatever you say.” Naya caught her reflection in the mirror and made eye contact with Annika. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Annika asked, distracted, as she slowly started to remove the sari.
“Heard you went on a date with Sajan.” Naya raised her eyebrows.
Honestly, how did everyone know everyone else’s business? “It wasn’t a date.” Well, it hadn’t ended up as one. Even though Sajan had footed the bill no matter how hard she’d insisted on at least splitting it. She smiled. He’d make some woman happy one day. It just wasn’t going to be her.
“Well, what was it?”
“Friends. Having dinner. It happens.”
“Have you talked to Daniel?”
Annika stopped for a moment at the mention of his name. “No.” She continued her task.
“Aren’t you even going to fight for him?”
“I can’t fight for him if he won’t fight for himself.” Annika tried to ignore the burn of tears by focusing on folding Naya’s sari. Would the tears ever stop? “When I miscarried, it was awful. And when we heard those aunties talking like I should be grateful—” She stopped before the tears broke through. She swallowed hard. “But still, I had you and my parents and Daniel to support me. I had a counselor come to see me in the ER whom I turned to a few times for help. Daniel didn’t have that support, nor did he seek counseling to help heal. He’s buried the pain and simply functions. He’s not living. He needs to want to live and not simply exist. When and if he wants that, he’ll get help.”
“So, what, you’re just going to let him go?”
“Looks that way. It’s been over a month and I haven’t heard from him, except for the updates I get from Nilay. And those have stopped now Nilay is home.”
“Actually...” Naya looked at her with sad eyes. “Nilay told me they FaceTime almost every day.”
Of course they did. A fist wrapped itself around her heart. Daniel would not let Nilay go until he was well. He felt responsible. And he cared for Nilay.
Which was part of why she loved him. Caring about Nilay, loving her—these were proof that Daniel was perfectly capable of living and not simply existing. He just didn’t think he deserved it. And she didn’t know how to convince him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DANIEL
DANIEL CHECKED THE address on the card against the building number. It was the right place. It had taken him only thirty-five minutes to get to Columbia from his apartment. He dismounted his bike. No need to go in. At least he knew where the place was. He could always come back later.
What did that mean, get help? Did that mean that he would forget
Sara? Because no way that could happen. He thought about the number of times he had counseled patients on getting help with any of their issues. Many would come back and thank him—though their problems never went away, they simply found a way to cope. He leaned against his bike. The little voice in his head that held all of his professional information finally spoke up. Get in there. Give it a chance. But it was the daydream of a life with Annika that he held in the front of his mind that gave him momentum.
He locked his bike, grabbed his helmet and went into the building before he could change his mind. His father’s voice sprang into his head. “Men take care of business. Talking about things never did anyone any good. Let it go. Put it behind you.” Daniel pushed forward. He’d tried that. It wasn’t working for him.
The floors of the building were still wet from being mopped, and the familiar antiseptic scent of the cleaner reminded him of the ER, and oddly calmed his heartbeat. The suite was the first one in the building, and a few men passed him as he peeked in the door. Seemed like a typical setup, with chairs in a circle and simple refreshments on the side.
Daniel stepped into the room, his stomach in knots. What was he afraid of? He surveyed the men in the room. All of these men were fathers who had lost a child. Any one of them could have been his patient. There did not seem to be any pattern to them. Some were in expensive suits, some were in uniforms. They seemed to come from all walks of life, every socioeconomic class and every race. All the men greeted one another with friendly smiles and handshakes.
Daniel walked farther into the room, suddenly afraid to make eye contact, when a familiar accent stopped him. Definitely Indian. He turned to find Annika’s father in conversation with a small group of men.
Wait, what?
He caught Daniel’s eye and nodded, a small smile at his lips.
Mr. Mehta glanced at the clock and clapped his hands together. “Shall we get started, then?”
A hum of murmuring, and the scraping of chairs on the tile, as each man found a seat in the circle. A redheaded man standing near Daniel pulled out an extra chair and pointed to it. “Have a seat.” He extended his hand. “I’m Ron. You look new.”
Daniel shook Ron’s hand. “Daniel. And yes, I am.”
Ron’s eyes softened. “Sorry for your loss. But good for you for coming here. If there’s a way out of the hole you’re in, Anil has the map.”
Confused, Daniel took the seat Ron offered. Once everyone was settled, Mr. Mehta called the meeting to order.
“I am Anil Mehta, and I welcome you all. We will go around and see how everyone is doing, and while we do have someone here with us for the first time, I will break protocol just this once and introduce myself before we meet him. He is someone I have not really met up until now.” Anil turned his gaze on Daniel, eyes warm and friendly. “My name is Anil Mehta, and I lost my son, Vipul, twenty-five years ago.”
Daniel stared at him, barely registering the group chorus of Welcome, Anil. We are sorry for your loss. Annika had never mentioned—wait. Annika would have been a baby when—maybe she didn’t know.
Mr. Mehta raised an eyebrow, as if to say, We have more in common than either of us thought.
Daniel nodded back and cleared his throat. “My name is Daniel Bliant.” He paused and looked around the room at all these complete strangers. Black, Hispanic, white, wealthy, middle-class, well dressed, poorly dressed, fit, out of shape. All these men were grieving, had lost a child, just like him.
Mr. Mehta spoke. “It’s okay, Daniel. We’re all friends here. And we’ve all been where you are now.”
Daniel was struck in that moment how similar Mr. Mehta’s eyes were to Annika’s. Comforting and strong. He nodded. “I’m Daniel, and I lost my daughter, Sara, close to five years ago. She was five.” Tears sprang to his eyes, unannounced. He tried to blink them back, but one escaped. He hastily wiped it away as he glanced around the room, but not one man flinched or seemed surprised. His father would have been appalled.
“Welcome, Daniel. We are sorry for your loss,” the group chorused.
Anil smiled and looked to Ron, who cleared his throat. “I’m Ron, and I lost my son, George, seven years ago. He was eight.” He glanced at Daniel. “It was like the world stopped for me, but not for anyone else. I couldn’t understand how life continued when my little boy was gone.”
Daniel couldn’t believe it. That was exactly how he’d felt in the aftermath of Sara’s funeral. He had been so lost, his world had ended, but for some reason they still needed to eat and pay bills. While Daniel took care of all that, he’d had the sense that it was ridiculous. How was it possible to continue when there was now a gaping hole where there had once been a beautiful little girl? How was it possible that the earth even continued to spin? Daniel relaxed into his surroundings as the meeting progressed and fathers shared their latest setbacks and accomplishments. Then came Daniel’s turn again.
“Anything you’d care to share today?” A kindness that Daniel had never heard from Mr. Mehta coated his words. “No pressure. But you could tell us what brought you here.”
Daniel didn’t know what had brought him there. He took in the faces that looked at him, some raw with emotion, others stoic now that they had shared. But not one of them looked at him with shame or disdain. They may not be smiling, but he’d just spent the last hour or more listening to their struggles and setbacks and progress in learning to live life again. Every man in this room had lost a piece of themselves, and they weren’t living in fear of talking about it.
He stood and did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. Maybe not even with Annika. He spoke from his heart.
“I’m here because I’ve been afraid for a long time. I’ve been afraid to care for another person. Until I found myself falling in love with the most amazing woman, and somehow, she loved me, too.” He looked around the room, finally resting his gaze on Anil-uncle. “I ended up pushing her away.”
“Why did you push her away?” Ron asked.
Daniel fixed his gaze on Anil-uncle. “I can’t be the man she needs me to be. The man she deserves.”
“Why not?” Anil asked.
“Because...because every time I care about someone, I’m filled with the fear that they will be ripped away from me.”
“And now?” Anil asked.
Daniel sighed and looked around, his gaze resting on Mr. Mehta’s face. “Now I’m tired. I’m so tired of being afraid.”
Saying it out loud actually made him a little less tired. A little less afraid.
Anil smiled at him. “Then you have come to the right place. Thank you, Daniel.”
After the meeting, a few men introduced themselves to Daniel before leaving, all of them offering words of support and encouragement. Daniel loitered until the last man had left and it was just him and Mr. Mehta.
Mr. Mehta spoke before Daniel even asked the question. “Vipul died when he was one year old. Annika was just two. She doesn’t remember him, but we keep his memory alive. No secrets.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Would it have mattered? She doesn’t remember him. Her strongest sense of loss is her miscarriage—which you know about.” They walked out to the parking lot together.
“Why didn’t she suggest this group?”
“You didn’t want help. She tried, I heard her. Besides, I doubt she knows that I still come here. Children don’t always know what their parents are up to, thank God.” He chuckled. “I came to this group when Auntie was pregnant with Nilay. I didn’t want to have another baby. I was already consumed with protecting Annika from every speck of dust. But we had a baby coming, and a friend suggested I try out this group. I was highly skeptical—what kind of man can’t handle his own head? The way I grew up, men showed their strength by simply moving on. Go to work, make a living. They didn’t talk about their feelings, let alone deal with them. I was doing w
hat I had to—providing for my family, protecting, all the things a ‘man’ should do.” Anil dropped his gaze and his tone went flat. “I was trying to make up for not protecting my Vipul. For not being able to save him.” He shrugged, looked back at Daniel. “Every day, my wife would tell me something wonderful about the new baby to come, and every day I ignored her. As if by not acknowledging her pregnancy, somehow the baby would not come.” Anil looked past Daniel, his voice gruff with emotion. “One day, I saw the love in her eyes turn to fear, and I realized that the distance I was putting between us had put that fear in her eyes. I had to make a change. I had to be the man she deserved.” He gave Daniel a small smile. “So, I made myself come here.” Anil stopped at his car.
Daniel nodded.
“What I found here was that while I was taking care of business, I was losing out on everything else—including my wife and daughter.” He shrugged. “I wanted to be a better father for my daughter and new baby, and a better husband for my wife. So I kept coming back. I took over the group eight years ago when our leader moved out of the state. Many of these men had turned to alcohol and drugs and other destructive behaviors before they came here. Many of them were also workaholics. We are an adjunct to whatever regular therapy they seek.”
“Why did you come to me?”
“Because you’re a father. And you need help. Because I’m a father who can offer that help. Not to mention my daughter is in love with you.” He handed Daniel another card. “This group is great. But sometimes we need more than what the group can offer. This guy—” he nodded at the card “—is one of us.”
Daniel took the card, wondering about this brotherhood he seemed to have become an unwilling member of. As if he’d read Daniel’s mind, Anil spoke. “None of us ever planned to be here. But here we are, and we do the best we can.”
Daniel nodded and asked the question that had been burning in his mind. “How is she?”
Anil studied him for a moment. “Well, she was in love with you, and you left her. In the hospital. What do you think?”
