The Taste of Ginger(40)

Even though Neel had lost his own child, my mother couldn’t help but still think of him as her child.

“Can we offer you chai and nasta?” my mother said, out of habit.

He held up his hands and politely shook his head. “That’s very kind, but I’m just here to collect Dipti.”

I looked up at the second floor, where I could now see Dipti peering into the living room from the railing on the bridge that spanned the middle of the second floor. Her face looked ashen, and I was sure she’d spent the better part of the morning crying.

“Collect her?” my mother asked.

Raj Uncle nodded his head ruefully. “She just needs some time.”

“Neel is not even home. Does he know?” my mother said, realizing what was happening.

Raj Uncle looked at Dipti and shrugged his shoulders, clearly not knowing the answer to the question or what had transpired between Dipti and Neel this morning. I now understood why he looked so apologetic. He was doing something that went against custom because once Dipti married into our family, she was supposed to do what was expected as part of that new family. Taking her away from Neel without his permission violated that marriage tenet. But the pleas of his only daughter must have been so strong that he was willing to go against tradition.

Raj Uncle leaned closer to my mother and said in a soft voice that Dipti would not be able to hear, “She is upset now, but she will move past this.”

He was trying to save face in front of my family and assure us that eventually Dipti would fall back into her traditional marriage role. After the new sides of her I had seen during my time in India, I wasn’t so sure. While she respected tradition, she wasn’t going to let it dictate her life. The way she had stood up to the priest about Uma’s funeral made that clear. I kept hoping Neel would walk through the door and convince her to stay, but there was no sign of him.

“Please have a seat until Neel comes home, and then we can talk about this,” my mother suggested while gesturing to the sofa. “Come. We’ll have some chai and nasta.” She caught our servant Gautam’s eye and signaled for him to bring Raj Uncle some water and make some tea. It was as if she understood Dipti leaving Lakshmi without Neel would have a lasting impact on them and was determined to avoid it.

“Papa, I’m ready to go,” Dipti called down from upstairs.

Raj Uncle looked helplessly between her and my mother. His internal struggle between what the culture expected of him and what his only daughter needed from him was etched on his face.

“Varshabhen, it will have to be another time,” he said to my mother.

He motioned for the servant who had been standing behind him like a statue to go upstairs and collect Dipti’s things. The lanky young man kept his head down as he mounted the stairs in his bare feet and came back with both of the suitcases that Dipti had brought on this trip. Dipti followed him and made her way toward the door.

“Dipti, beta, have we done something to make you feel unwelcome?” my mother said. “This is a lot of effort for one day, no? Your flights are just after midnight tomorrow, so no sense in moving the luggage, hah?”

She looked up and held my mother’s gaze. “I’m not going back to Chicago tomorrow,” she said simply.

“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.