A Good Indian Wife: A Novel

by Anne Cherian

  Now Natalie listened, but instead of offering solace, she made Caroline even more nervous.

  “He doesn’t tell you his grandfather is dead. He doesn’t tell you he’s going to India. He doesn’t call you when he returns, at least not until you call first, and you think he’s coming over today to tell you he’s going to divorce his wife?”

  When Caroline tried to say that Neel must have had his reasons, Natalie laughed and said yes, it was a four-letter one: wife. “How come he didn’t marry you when he had the chance?” Before Caroline could come up with an explanation, Natalie added, “He didn’t when he could, so why would he now?”

  “Because we get along so well. We love each other.” They did get along nicely and hardly ever fought, except when she brought up the “M” word. But even Natalie had to agree that that wasn’t unusual. If women didn’t prod men, they would live like clueless singles.

  But Natalie wasn’t convinced. “Look, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but how well do two people who only see each other one evening a week, who have to find out-of-the-way places to go to, and who act like strangers at work really know each other?”

  “You’re a big comfort,” Caroline charged. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of life?”

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound so cynical. It’s just that I’ve been there and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You’re the one hurting me now,” Caroline said quietly.

  “Okay, sorry. I take back everything I said. Look, he’s probably coming over full of honorable intentions.”

  “Yes, and I’m wearing a wedding gown.”

  “Seriously, though, he might be. People propose at the oddest times.”

  Caroline knew that Natalie was just trying to make up for her earlier sharpness. Neel had never wanted to meet at a café before, and both women had carefully avoided discussing the unusual suggestion.

  “So,” Natalie asked, “how are you going to handle it?”

  “That’s why I called you. Do I offer sympathy, or do I say, ‘I’ve waited long enough, let’s talk about us.’ What do I do?”

  “Whatever it is, don’t start analyzing his every word and movement, okay? He’s probably jet-lagged, an emotional wreck. So my advice is, don’t make any waves, make it seem like just another get-together. What do you usually do?”

  “You know—”

  “Hey, I can’t offer any advice there. I haven’t had any in so long I’m practically a born-again virgin. You know him best, Caroline. You’ll figure it out.”

  The trouble was, Caroline thought as she paced the bedroom, Natalie was right. She didn’t know Neel, not the way some women know their boyfriends, not even the way she had known her fiancé. She knew some things about him, but they hadn’t been connecting recently and she didn’t know how to reach him.

  She only knew that she wanted him to come over and say, “I love you and now we can get married.”

  She thought back to Natalie’s question. Of course! He hadn’t asked her to marry him before because he didn’t want to hurt his grandfather. But now the grandfather was dead and there was nothing to stand between them.

  It was going to be all right, it was going to be fine.

  Then she looked at the clock and flew into another panic. He would be here any minute and she still hadn’t decided which dress to wear. Neel had said she looked nice in dresses and all she had on was a black lace slip.

  The bell. He was here. She’d greet him in the slip. It could mean she hadn’t finished dressing—or that she was ready for him.

  “Sweetie,” she made to kiss him, keeping Natalie’s advice in mind.

  “Remember, I have a cold.” Neel stepped aside. “Why get sick if you don’t have to?”

  Determined to start them off in the usual way, she said, “Then I’ll kiss you with my mouth closed.”

  He turned his face at the last minute and she found herself pecking his cheek.

  “It’s not like you to be this careful,” Caroline said, perplexed by his behavior.

  “What kind of doctor would that make me?” Neel smiled, though Caroline could see he wasn’t really joking.

  Why was he acting so strange, hovering at the door, not kissing her back? Then it hit her. He was probably thinking of that last time with Dan.

  “Sweetie, I want to apologize for my brother. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But you won’t have to ever again.”

  Neel looked away from that face, so white and blue and giving. He didn’t want to be reminded of the last time when he had scurried away.

  “Like I told you on the phone yesterday. I’ve cut off the whole family.”

  Neel felt himself weakening, felt her words turn the evening around. She had stood up for him, done what he should have. He had heard of women like this, but after Savannah had given up hope of meeting one. He never imagined that one day Caroline would make him her whole world.

  Gratitude softened his voice. “Caroline,” he began, then stopped.

  “Sh…” She placed a finger on his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I know you would do the same for me.”

  He had come here to tell her the exact opposite. It was going all wrong. They were supposed to be at a café, with him saying his good-byes and then going home to Leila.

  “I saw this new café just down the block,” he tried to get them back on track. “We can walk there once you get ready.”

  “Come and talk to me while I finish dressing.” Caroline turned without waiting for his response.

  He hesitated at the inappropriateness of it all, but thought it would look…hypocritical to refuse. After all, they had been far more intimate than this.

  He watched her swaying in front of him, her back even more creamy against the black. The lace clung to her buttocks, the scalloped hem undulating between her legs. She turned to look at him from the doorway and suddenly he knew what she was up to. And having come prepared to let her down gently, he now understood that he was going to have to be even more careful. She couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t know that he had chosen Leila and that this was the last time they would see each other outside the hospital. He remembered how he had felt after Savannah and determined to spare her some of the pain.

  Perfectly aware that she was reeling him in, each step toward the bedroom thundered in his head, keeping pace with the headache that had returned.

  “My headache’s getting worse,” he said. “I really do need some tea. The caffeine should do the trick.”

  “I’ve got aspirin,” Caroline offered.

  “I’d rather get to that café and have tea.”

  “Why don’t I make you some?”

  First Leila, then Caroline—everyone wanted to make him tea. Leila had even kept him waiting while she doled in the spices.

  “I can wait till you’re ready,” Neel insisted.

  “It’s just a cup of tea.” Caroline kept her voice light.

  “Why cook when you don’t have to?” Neel countered. “I think I’ll wait for you outside. I seem to be hampering your progress.”

  “Then help me,” Caroline said quickly. He had never waited for her outside before. What was happening? Again she heard that pause on the phone, when he didn’t speak and she’d suggested they meet today. But she hadn’t meant meet for coffee. She had meant for them to get together and discuss their future. “Blue or yellow?” She held up two dresses. “Though maybe yellow is overkill for a blonde,” she prattled on, willing her words to lure him back to the old days when he helped her undress rather than dress.

  “Blue. Come on, Caroline, this is taking forever.”

  “I know why you’re crabby. It’s the headache. Water and an aspirin.” Caroline put back the two dresses and this time marched quickly past him and into the kitchen.

  “This is totally unnecessary, Caroline, really.”

  “Are you going to take it or do I have to make you take it? Remember the time I didn’t want to try the retsina you brought o
ver and you made me?”

  She was being so cheerful and kind and—sexual. Yes, once, long ago, he had given her mouth-to-mouth retsina. Didn’t she remember how uncomfortable it had been? That he had never tried it again?

  Caroline took a sip of water and came toward him.

  “No, Caroline, stop. Please.”

  But she didn’t listen, and instead reached for his face.

  Neel put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.

  Caroline stumbled back, the water suddenly sour in her mouth. She couldn’t seem to do anything right. She swallowed the water, heard it go down noisily, and wondered how long she could take this, standing almost naked in front of him. Tears gathered in her eyes but she forced them away. He had never liked weepy women. He had always liked her. He did, he did like her. Why else had he gone out with her for so long? He was tired. She was pushing him, asking too much too soon. She needed to give him space.

  “Caroline, I’m sorry. Look, I meant to tell you yesterday, but I couldn’t. I mean, I didn’t think it was right to end things over the phone.”

  Caroline couldn’t look away from his dark eyes. Her heart immediately accelerated and she felt as though she were about to throw up.

  “I can’t do this anymore. Not to you, not to me. It’s over. I’m sorry.”

  Every word echoed in her head. She felt them course down her body and reach her toes, which curled into the cold floor. She didn’t, couldn’t believe them.

  “What do you mean, it’s over?” They hadn’t fought, she hadn’t made any demands, so what was he talking about?

  She kept looking at that face, the color of a tree trunk, the lips that knew so much and could kiss so well.

  It couldn’t be ending. Not after all this waiting. No wonder Natalie didn’t trust him. Natalie’s married lover, too, had gone back to his wife. Five years of sneaking around and he had just ended it one day. Two years later, when they ran into each other at the supermarket, he told her he was divorced. He was already involved with another woman, younger, who could give him the family he wanted.

  “I’m sorry,” Neel said. “I’m sorry if I’m hurting you. I never meant it to be this way, but it is over. I’ll leave now.”

  She couldn’t let him walk out of the apartment, needed a way to keep him here, but the only words that left her mouth were, “Why? What did I do wrong?”

  She could win him back. This wasn’t like Natalie’s situation. It was between the two of them because the wife had never mattered.

  “Nothing. I don’t know. It’s over is all.”

  “But you said you’d marry me.” She had hoped so much for that. Not a down-on-one-knee, ring-in-the-box proposal. Just a simple, “Will you marry me?”

  “I never, ever said I’d marry you,” he clarified, a little angry that she was putting him in this false situation.

  “When you came back last summer, you said we’d get married when your grandfather died.”

  “You have a wild imagination. I believe my exact words were, ‘We’ll carry on as before.’”

  “Then why can’t we do that? You don’t love this woman.” She knew he had never dated an Indian, had heard the envy in his voice when he spoke of Sanjay’s wife. She was her own best card.

  “It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

  “But what about me?”

  “I never promised you anything. I treated you well. I even gave you a car.”

  “I never wanted that rotten old car. I want you. I’ve given up my whole family for you.”

  This time Neel did not accept the gift he had once so desperately yearned for. He had wanted to believe her story just to make up for the fact that he should have been the one booting off the brother, so he wouldn’t have to look back on the evening with the same degree of humiliation. But he had always known it wasn’t true.

  “Then why didn’t you tell your brother to leave when I was there? Why wait till I left?”

  “Because…” Caroline hadn’t prepared for this question. She had expected him to believe her and be happy.

  “Because you didn’t send him away.” Neel took a deep breath. He hadn’t just come to end things with her; he had come to end all the lies. “Your brother didn’t even know about me, Caroline. Look, I’m not blaming you. My family knows nothing about you, either. This whole thing, this relationship, was never going anywhere.”

  “But we’ve been together so long.”

  “I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t right of me.”

  “But you can make it right now.”

  “I can’t, Caroline. At least not for you.”

  She read the rest of the sentence in his eyes.

  “How can you want to be with her? She’s so”—Caroline stopped herself from saying, “Indian.”

  “She’s my wife,” Neel said quickly. He didn’t want her saying anything about Leila.

  “But you told me you never wanted to marry her.”

  “That was in the summer. This is now.”

  “But what happened in that time?”

  “She’s pregnant.” He hadn’t planned on telling Caroline about the pregnancy, but their meeting was getting too long and complicated. Maybe now she would believe him.

  My grandfather asked me to marry her, not sleep with her, he had told her when he’d rushed over to her apartment, leaving the wife in the condo. He’d been sleeping with both of them. When her period was a few days late, he’d had abortion written all over his face. But the young wife was allowed to keep her baby. She got everything: the doctor husband, the condo in Pacific Heights, the new car, the plane, the baby.

  “You bastard, you lying, cheating, bastard!” Caroline screamed, wishing her words were arrows that would pierce him so he’d topple from the pain. “How dare you sleep with both of us? How dare you come here and tell me she’s pregnant?”

  “Caroline, calm down—”

  “You’re standing there and telling me what to do? You bastard!”

  “Oh, and you’re the good guy who just happened to call up my wife when I wasn’t home?”

  Natalie had warned her not to do it. She could hear Natalie say, “It doesn’t matter how hard you fight, they always choose their wives in the end.” She could see the vein throbbing in his forehead, how his nostrils flared with every word.

  Caroline crumbled, and now could not control her sobs.

  She raised her face toward him, tears clotting her eyelashes.

  “Caroline, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I led you to believe we would marry. You will never know how sorry I am. But it’s over.”

  “What did I do wrong?” They all left her. She’d end up like Natalie, alone and bitter.

  Neel shook his head. There was so much that was wrong. But he could not blame her. She had only been thinking of her future. In Reno, in calling up Leila. Even today. She could not know that it was his past that had brought him here.

  When Savannah had disappeared into the folds of her family, he felt anger, sadness, and shame. “She didn’t think I was good enough,” he told Sanjay, wild with grief at what he could not have. Sanjay had staunchly maintained that Savannah was the one who wasn’t good enough. “How did Oona do it, then?” Neel had not been able to stop that question. “I honestly don’t know.” Sanjay shook his head. “I was too busy trying to figure out how I had fallen for her. I always thought I’d go back and marry a nice Bangla girl.”

  But, he added, he had no choice. As he’d said on numerous occasions, he would have married Oona if she had been purple.

  Neel had dismissed the claim as one of Sanjay’s silly jokes. He had always envied the other man. But Sanjay wasn’t being funny. He had fallen for Oona in spite of, not because of, her color. And just because she was white didn’t mean theirs was a dream marriage. They had problems that couples in arranged marriages didn’t have. A white wife did not guarantee happiness.

  He’d been wrong all these months spent railing against his lack of choice. For years he’d wondered why it was h
e didn’t have what Sanjay obviously had. Now he had it, too.

  And just when he could say yes, he knew with absolute certainty that he no longer wanted that third item on his youthful list.

  He didn’t know how or why, but he felt his old skin slip off, giving his brownness a comfort he had never felt before.

  And when that desire for a white wife left him, so did his anger. He hadn’t realized how angry he had been. Angry at Caroline for not being the right white woman; angry at Leila for forcing him to become a husband and father.

  There was no need to be angry with Caroline anymore. This time when he looked at her face, he saw past the rabbitish eyes and the leaking nose and found—desperation. She wanted what he represented; just as he had wanted what she represented.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. Please believe me when I say that. It just wasn’t meant to be,” he said gently.

  “I’m never going to have anyone.” She couldn’t stop those fearful words.

  “You will, Caroline.” Neel said, “He just has to be right for you.”

  “Is your wife, this Lee, right for you?”

  He remembered Tattappa’s words, felt the watch strap tight on his wrist. “It is better to be with one’s own kind,” Tattappa had said.

  “She is.” The two words did not have the joy or freedom of “I do” but they carried the same commitment.

  He was so much luckier than Caroline. She had grown up with dates every night of the week, the freedom to live away from the age of eighteen, and here she was, still alone. All those choices, and she hadn’t been able to get her choice. Yet he, who halfway across the world had to keep his nights and days a secret from his family, now had, because of that family, a wife, and soon a baby.

  Caroline had wanted all that with him. She wasn’t asking for the impossible.

  Jacques Olivier had assumed Neel was going out with Caroline, but that hadn’t stopped him from inquiring if she was available. He was probably still interested in Caroline, still looking to find someone who would understand his French instead of being seduced by his accent.