By the time Bram laughed in Shobi’s face, the perpetual tang of alcohol on his breath, and told her that the one thing she would never have was her daughter back, it was too late. The most precious thing in Shobi’s life had become too tenuous and slippery for her to hold on to.
After the hunting incident, Ma-saheb couldn’t get the authorities to bury the charges a second time. The only solution the family could come up with was to remove Bram from the country to avoid arrest. Shree was able to extract him to America amid a media circus. Ashna became the butt of teasing at school, and a target for hungry paparazzi. Once that happened, Shobi lost all avenues to win. She had to focus on damage control for Ashna, even as she struggled to hold her foundation together, because far too many people depended on it.
She tried to reason with Ashna, explain to her that Shobi couldn’t leave with them, and she couldn’t keep Ashna with her either. Shobi promised to make their time together make up for their separation. She didn’t account for the fact that to Ashna the abandonment would become the sum total of their relationship, or that the only way Ashna would know how to handle it was by completely withdrawing and insulating herself from Shobi.
Before she knew it Ashna stopped holding her, stopped calling her mamma, stopped hearing anything that came out of Shobi’s mouth. It was amid that tornado of Ashna’s rejection and withdrawal that Omar returned after making his way out of the lies his father had told him to save his own skin. It wasn’t much, but in some ways, it was everything.
Chapter Thirty-One
The last thing Ashna had expected was to return to him today. But it felt natural. Essential.
At first she had walked aimlessly, without knowing where she was going. Past the restaurants her aunt called “hip” that were the beating heart of Palo Alto, the giant Whole Foods that was perpetually crowded, the Philz Coffee that made her feel like she was soaking up the coffee aroma with her skin. Little things that had made this place her home for so long. A home that had terrified her and excited her in equal parts when she had first come here.
“It’s going to be fun,” Baba had said to her. “We’ve always had fun together, haven’t we?” Baba had encouraged her to play soccer instead of cricket. He’d taken her hunting, something her mother hated. Shopping trips to Milan. Oysters in Catalonia. Macarons in Paris. Decadence had been his weapon.
Decadence that had filled Ashna with guilt when her mother railed against it as she draped on her white cotton saris and went to war in places so neglected no one had even heard of them. But at least it had made Shobi stop and take notice. Missing her mother had been a live thing inside Ashna for as long as she could remember.
“We’ll make it a fresh start. Your mother wants us to be miserable. We’ll be happy. That’ll show her.”
Even at ten Ashna had known these were not things one parent should say about another. A part of her had hoped that if Baba got them out of his system maybe he wouldn’t be so pathetic around Mom. In her presence, all he could do was drink and whimper, and no one stood up for him.
Ashna circled the block and went into Curried Dreams. It was closed today. Which was why her aunt and her mother had been at home. Ashna went into the janitor’s storeroom and retrieved her cleaning cart. Mina Kaki had hired a cleaning service. In just a few months, how much everything had changed from when Mandy and Ashna had soldiered on with nothing more than hope to fuel them. The restaurant was spotless, but Ashna washed and wiped everything. She remembered the expression on Mandy’s face when Ashna had let her go. Before she had asked to be let go.
Her legs felt shaky as she made her way to Baba’s office. She had never been inside the room after they had cleaned out his remains. She tried to push the door open but she couldn’t do it.
The last day Baba had been alive played in her head. He’d found out about her and Rico and demanded that Rico come and meet him. The feeling of inescapable doom had pulled over Ashna like someone sliding a plastic bag over her face. She had begged Rico to stay away from Baba and gone to see him herself. At first she’d tried to explain how much Rico and she loved each other.
Boys like that only want one thing. In his case two. And neither one of those has anything to do with loving you . . . He is not like us. Life is hard enough with someone who’s your social equal . . . I’d rather die than let you shame our heritage just because you’re panting over a son of a whore who lives in a servant quarter.
Rage had exploded inside her, a nuclear blast wiping away a lifetime of placating him, determinedly seeing him as someone he was not.
You’re sick. It’s not just the drinking and vomiting, you’re sick on the inside. How did I ever stand being near you?
She didn’t care that he looked like Ashna had kicked him.
It’s because your mother couldn’t stand being near you. You had no choice. This boy is going to do it too. He’s going to leave you like your mother did.
Ashna had run out of the room, but it had felt like dragging herself out because he’d cut off her legs.
You’re just like your mother. Selfish.
She sank down by the door. Maybe she’d sleep here tonight. For one terribly long moment the thought was comforting. Then Ashna jumped up.
But she still saw herself on that floor, rolled up in a ball. A part of her had been lying there, outside his door, for twelve years.
It was time to get up and move on.
Breaking into a run, she made her way out of the restaurant and started walking. She walked and she walked. The sun was long gone from the sky, leaving suburbia in a blanket of lights. She found herself on Caltrain headed to the city. By the time she got off at the Fourth and King station, memories had clogged up inside her like sludge, a backed-up drain that wouldn’t move.
How could so much anger for your parents live inside you, even as you hurt for them? Wasn’t hurting for someone a sign of love? How could she love someone capable of such hateful things?
Why had she blocked out Baba’s cruelty until now? For the last few years of his life he had barely ever emerged from behind the haze of depression and alcohol. All Ashna had wanted was to help him, to save him. To show her mother that care was what people needed, and time.
How colossally stupid she was.
She’d completely ignored the fact that Shobi had shown nothing but care for all the world. She’d given all her time to it.
So much Ashna had blocked out. A year after moving to Palo Alto, when the high of the restaurant’s success had made Baba seem the happiest Ashna had ever seen him, she had asked him if she could move back home to Sripore. He’d taken his rifle out of its case and looked Ashna straight in the eye.
“You’ve already lost your mother. She doesn’t want us. If you leave me like she left us, I’ll have no choice but to kill myself. Then you’ll have no one left.”
Ashna had been ten.
Mina Kaki had found her terrified and unable to get out of bed the next day. Her aunt had tried everything to get Ashna to tell her what was wrong. But Ashna hadn’t been able to. Mina had called Shobi to ask her to come out and take care of Ashna.
Ashna had picked up the extension and overheard their conversation. “Can you manage things with Ashi one more time, Minu? I have to be in Ratnagiri. We’re inaugurating our biggest school yet. It’s going to serve all of Konkan. Too many people are counting on me.” At least Baba wanted her badly enough that losing her would kill him.