“I thought you and Neel discussed—” my mother said gently.
She shook her head. “I’m not going back. I’m going to stay with Papa at my foi’s house.”
“If there is a reason to stay, you and Neel should discuss. I’m sure he will be back any minute now. Just have a seat.”
Dipti shook her head. “I’m tired.” She turned to her father. “Let’s go home,” she said.
Indira Mami, my mother, and I watched the servant load the luggage atop the car, tying it down with rope, and then Raj Uncle and Dipti sputtered down the road, leaving a small cloud of dirt behind them. My mother and I turned to each other, knowing the implications of what had just happened could be severe.
When Neel and my father returned an hour after Dipti had left, my mother and I were still sitting in the living room. We hadn’t said a word to each other but let the sound of the television playing in the background fill the silence. Mom gestured for them to have a seat.
“Dipti went to her foi’s house,” Mom said to Neel.
Neel shrugged as if this was no big deal. “Fine. It’s one less fight we will have before the flight.”
Mom shook her head. “Beta, she is not going to fly home tomorrow.”
Neel looked at me, exasperated. “What’s she going to do? Stay here forever? This seems a bit dramatic.”
“I know you’re upset,” I said, “but she’s really hurting.”
“No one said she’s not! I just don’t see how staying here and wallowing will help anything.”
“You need to talk to her,” I said.
He threw up his hands and exaggeratedly scanned the room. “She’s not here. Wasn’t that the point of this whole conversation? That she’s not here? How am I supposed to talk to her?”
I knew how upset he was even if he wasn’t admitting it, so I let his snide tone pass. “Go see her.”
He shook his head. “If she wanted to talk, then she would have bothered to have this conversation with me before she left. Seems there’s nothing left to say. She’s got a key and a credit card, so she can go back to Chicago when she’s ready, but I’m not waiting around for that.” He rose and headed toward the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Mom’s eyes were wide, and she called after him, “You can’t leave India without her!”
The only response was the closing of the door to his bedroom upstairs.
17
Everyone in the bungalow, including the servants, had been tiptoeing around even though Neel had not left his room in over two hours. Servants absorbed the dysfunction of their employers like sponges, and they were politely staying out of everyone’s way while still finishing their chores. They probably knew more about each of us and our mannerisms than we even knew about ourselves.
I was in my small bedroom gathering up the meager belongings I had brought on the trip. My flight was scheduled to depart at four in the morning, a day ahead of the one Neel, Dipti, and my father were booked on. While I hated that Neel and Dipti were suffering so much, I was looking forward to going back to LA. There had been nothing but disappointment and heartache since I had arrived in India, and I welcomed the escape. That was what LA was to me now. An escape from everything bad that had happened in India.
The cellophane bags of Indian clothes crinkled as I laid them carefully in the suitcase. I had brought only a carry-on with me, but the bulky wedding clothes I’d bought had made it impossible for me to leave with the same luggage with which I’d arrived. Indira Mami had given me an old heavy blue suitcase that my family had left in India when I was a teenager. It was one my parents had acquired in a secondhand shop on Devon Avenue for our first trip back to India, and it was older than I was. My family didn’t believe in throwing anything away. A lifetime of seeing poverty all around them made even wealthy Indians frugal.
The suitcase sat on the edge of the bed, and I knelt on the floor arranging clothes in it. My mother came into the room and sat next to the suitcase. She looked inside it and bit her lip. I knew she was fighting the urge to suggest a better way to organize the contents than the way I had done it. She always thought her way was best.
“Preeti, you must talk to Neel.”
I sat back on my heels, giving my knees a break from the hard tiles.
“He hasn’t come out of his room yet. You know how he is. He needs to be alone.”
She glanced at the suitcase.
After a long pause, she said, “I don’t think it’s good for you to go.”