She goes into the kitchen. Manoj is chopping onions with fervor. Beads of sweat form on his brow, and his nose is running.
“I’ve created a profit and loss program for the restaurant,” Sophie says, not wanting to startle him while he’s wielding a sharp knife.
Manoj glances in her direction. “Thank you. Hopefully it’s not too complicated for Papa to use.”
“I tried to keep it simple, but I thought I would show it to you as well in case he has trouble. And you can reach out to me if there are any issues.”
He nods. His demeanor is all business.
“Do you mind if we step away from the onions for a minute?” Sophie asks, tears pricking her eyes.
He wipes his hands on the white apron tied around his waist and moves to where she is standing.
“I really want to thank you for your help this past week. I know it wasn’t an ideal situation to have me here, but I think perhaps life does work out for a reason. You helped me find answers that I have needed to know for my entire life, and I’m not sure there are any words that can repay that. You didn’t have to help me, but the fact that you did made this painful journey easier.”
“It was nothing,” he says. “You didn’t speak French, and you needed help.”
“You have a lot on your plate, and that you took on my problems as well says a lot about your character.”
He tries to shrug off her compliment.
“I hope we can stay friends,” she says.
He raises an eyebrow, as if he realizes for the first time that they did become friends.
She laughs. “Don’t let me pressure you into it!”
He now laughs too. “No, it’s not that.” He grows more solemn. “It’s just been a while since I focused on something other than this place.”
She nods. “I know. That’s why I appreciate it so much. Maybe one day you will come to India and I can return the favor.”
“Perhaps I will. I should probably go one time in my life.”
“Whenever you do, you will have someone waiting. And in the meantime, I want to hear how the restaurant and the two of you are doing. I’m now invested in the success of all three!”
Manoj looks at his papa and then turns to Sophie. “We will be okay.”
“Yes,” she says, “I think we all will be.”
“And you’ll let us know you are safe in America?” he says, his hard demeanor giving way. “No dark alleys alone at night?”
She laughs. “I promise. And I speak the language, so I hope it will be easier there.”
Her eyes convey the gratitude that her words cannot. This person who was a stranger to her a couple weeks ago has changed the course of the rest of her life. How can any words capture that?
As she leaves the restaurant that evening, she thinks about how much her world has expanded in such a short period of time, and in the most unpredictable ways. With the passing of Papa, she had felt lost and hopeless, then clung to the idea that Nita was alive like a life raft in the vast Indian Ocean. She realizes that when she came to Paris, she was seeking answers, but she was also seeking someone to replace Papa. She hadn’t been equipped to go through life without that crutch of a parent paving her way, and now she is heading in that direction but is no longer as afraid. Less than two weeks have changed her past and her future. She is now a confirmed orphan, but the weight is not as heavy as she had expected, perhaps because her hope has shifted to this new brother who has been living a world apart from her. She knows she is meant to find him and knows this series of events is the way her life had to unfold for her to do so.
47
The next day Sophie meets Dao at her apartment in the Marais to collect Nita’s belongings. Manoj had offered to join her, but she knew she needed to do this part on her own. He still insisted on giving her clear directions and making sure she repeated the steps to him three times. The apartment is on the top floor of a fifth-floor walk-up on Rue de Sevigné, and Sophie is out of breath by the time she reaches the top landing. The door is open a few inches, and from within it, Sophie hears Dao say, “Come in.”
She gingerly pushes the door open wider and finds Dao rummaging through a small navy-blue suitcase that looks worn and old. There are some canvases leaning against the wall behind her.
Dao looks up to greet her. She stops rifling through the suitcase, and her hand flutters to her heart. “You really do look just like your mother did. Your hair is straighter than hers was. She had these waves in her hair that would form like magic even when she air-dried her hair, but your features are identical.”
Sophie’s cheeks warm. Speaking of Nita had always been taboo in her home, but she’d often heard relatives whisper the same sentiment when they thought she wasn’t listening. “It must be hard for Rajiv to have the ghost of Nita in his house,” they’d say. Sophie had wanted to look like Nita—it was a way to feel close to her—but also didn’t want to cause Papa any more pain, so she’d always been conflicted when someone made a comment about her resemblance. Hearing Dao, who knew a completely different side of Nita, say it in a positive way is refreshing.
“I wish I had known her better,” Sophie says, approaching Dao and the suitcase on the small dining table between them. She sees that it is from the set Papa had used. “The woman I remember is so different from the one you knew.”
Dao cocks her head sympathetically and motions for Sophie to sit before taking the seat next to her. She puts her hand on Sophie’s forearm.
“None of us are just one thing,” she says. “Your mother was as complex as I’m sure you are. I’m certain that was true of her time in India and her time in France.”
Sophie isn’t so sure. As she looks back on her own life, it feels very one note. But this journey she’s been on since Papa passed has changed her. In ways she likely has not even processed yet, but she sees her flaws more clearly now and sees strengths she never knew she had.
“What do you remember most about her?” Sophie asks.
Dao’s brow furrows as she ponders the question. “I think the thing that stood out most, especially toward the end, was that she was lost.”
Sophie straightens. “What do you mean?” Sophie’s memories of Nita are of a bold, self-assured woman.
Dao stares at the suitcase on the table in front of them. “She always seemed like she was in control. But as you got to know her, as you got past the exterior, she seemed scared and lost. From that first moment when I met her at the hostel, her jaw was set in determination that she had made the right decision to come to Paris. But when she thought no one was looking, you’d see her eyes flicker with the insecurity and doubt of a child. She was like that until the last conversation I had with her, when she told me she was going back to India. That day, I felt that her steely gaze and set jaw were more than an act and were genuine. I could see how badly she wanted to pull herself out of the spiral that time. Now, having met you, I wonder if she was lost because she had left you and felt restored after deciding to go back to you. She loved Vijay so deeply that I’m sure she felt the same way about you. It must have devastated her to leave you like she did.”