The Vibrant Years(66)

“You sound like you’re about to say goodbye. If you run away in the middle of the night, I will hunt you down. Unless, of course, you’re married. In which case I hope your wife kicks your ass for doing this.”

“Cullie, please.” He sounded so helpless. “I won’t go anywhere without telling you. That’s the one thing I can promise you. I won’t leave without saying goodbye. I can’t go anywhere until I figure out how to . . . how to get this person to meet me.”

“Why don’t you just show up at her door. I’ll bet she won’t be able to resist your charm.”

He didn’t smile. Not a bit of his cockiness was anywhere in sight.

“Can I help? Maybe I could call this woman, appeal to her on your behalf?”

“You’re already helping me more than I deserve. But can you . . .” Why was this torturing him so much? When he unabashedly asked her to help with all sorts of other things.

She waited.

“Can you . . . am I still invited to dinner? I’m really missing home.”

“Of course.” She started laughing. He was just so darned adorable, her heart might melt from it. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


ALY


It was what Rajendra Desai would demand in return for paying me off to release Bhanu from the film that scared me. That’s why I did what I did. Or maybe I was just jealous of him having what I couldn’t.

From the journal of Oscar Seth

Aly needed her monthly Mediterranean dinner date with Bindu today. A tradition they’d started after the divorce, when Aly had done a piece on the best Mediterranean restaurants in the area. Cullie usually flew down for it. Which was a bit excessive, but being so successful so young had to have its advantages.

Just as Aly left work and was getting into the car, she saw a missed call from her mother. Aly had been avoiding her, because all Mummy wanted was to ask how Ashish was and where he was and why Aly wouldn’t see sense.

Not calling her mother back when Aly was on her way to a dinner she was looking forward to would be the sensible thing to do. But she just couldn’t do it.

“One of these days you’ll call your mother because you want to talk to her and not because you have to.” Mummy always had the best openers.

Usually Aly would lie and say what her mother wanted to hear, that she didn’t call her only out of a sense of duty. Actually that wasn’t a lie. She did want to call her mother. She wanted to tell her about Meryl and the fact that she might lose everything if Bindu’s connection with Richard Langley came out. She wanted to laugh with her about her naked-statue date.

“Isn’t calling the important part, Mummy?”

“Are you driving? You know I don’t like you talking to me when you drive.”

Aly held back her groan. “Things are really busy right now. If I didn’t catch you on my drive, I’d miss you. How does it matter that I’m driving?”

Mummy drew a breath. “You don’t understand. Ravina’s daughter died while driving and talking on the phone. You always misunderstand what I say. Maybe if you tried to understand people, you’d see why Ashish has come back to you.”

Aly let out that groan, but not without hitting the mute button. “I always use the speakerphone when I drive.” She would never tell Mummy that her cousin’s daughter had been under the influence of enough drugs and alcohol to qualify as an overdose when she’d died in that car crash. Ravina had suffered enough with losing a child. She didn’t need the family’s judgment and blame.

“As if Ravina’s daughter didn’t have a speakerphone,” Mummy said in a huff and then got a call from one of her sisters and hung up on Aly.

Aly was about to execute the head-on-steering-wheel maneuver she needed to survive these calls when the phone rang again. Despite her best efforts, Aly’s heart did a little jump of hope as she imagined Mummy calling her back to finish their conversation. Maybe even apologize for hanging up on her. Maybe even end the conversation with an I love you.

It was Cullie, which was a far better option. Aly tempered her voice before she said hello.

“Did you just talk to Granny Karen?” Cullie asked as soon as she heard Aly’s voice.

Aly made a sound of affirmation, still unable to make words without more pathos than she wanted to saddle Cullie with.

“In that case, never mind,” her child said gently.

“Never mind what?”

“Nothing.” Her voice said it was certainly something. Aly had a suspicion she knew what it was.

“Cullie, just say it, beta. What do you need?”

“Mom, sorry. I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear. But is it okay if Dad joins us for dinner?” She sounded so heartbreakingly tentative.

Aly hated when Cullie felt the need to tiptoe around her feelings. She’d sworn that her child would never have to do what she’d been stuck with her whole life. She tried to force herself to say that it was okay, that they were still a family and Aly could still be around Ashish. But she couldn’t, not without the sense of betrayal that slashed through the center of her rib cage every time her mind went anywhere near her ex-husband.

She could not wait to rub Weekend Plans with Aly in his face. She hadn’t told anyone yet. It felt too tenuous, too long awaited. Every superstitious belief about jinxing it congregated in her wary heart.