As Sweet as Honey

21




They spent the next weeks talking about Archer’s habits and his character. Meterling felt she knew more to tell the baby, and the cousin said he felt more settled with Archer’s death.

“It’s good to talk with someone who knew him now, not in the past as a boy. Susan won’t talk. She just went on holiday to Scotland, and refuses phone calls. She’s very upset, but can’t bring herself to accept it.”

“She must blame me.”

“She shouldn’t.” Simon hesitated. “This is unrelated, but Archer also had a heart condition.”

“He never told me!”

“That’s why he was at a desk job. He was supposed to lead a quiet life, which is hard to imagine.”

“He was dancing at the wedding, exerting himself, drinking—” Meterling faltered.

“And happier than I’d seen him in a long time.”

“I wished he’d told me. I could have done something.”

“He would have told you later about the heart. But no one can prevent an aneurysm,” said Simon.

They were quiet in their embarrassment. Simon wondered if their lovemaking had been too exuberant, if that was why Meterling was blushing so deeply. Then he wondered why on earth he thought that.

“Susan—she’ll be an aunt soon. I wonder if the baby will inherit her characteristics,” said Meterling presently.

“Stubborn, fiercely loyal, and smart. She’s head of her company, you know, and will probably receive an MBE.”

Meterling hadn’t known.

“I’m joking about the MBE. Their mother died young. She had just wanted both of them to settle down, have children—oh, God, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—”

Meterling’s eyes had filled with tears. “No, it’s not that, it’s just that it’s all so confusing,” she sobbed.

And Simon, stricken, just enveloped her in his arms.



We came to like both Ajay and Simon-Archer more. We felt bad for Rajan, since there seemed some injustice there, but we couldn’t put our fingers on it. Ajay was smart, funny, and handsome, too, in a way. He seemed to be concerned for Nalani’s welfare. It could be a show, although I didn’t know how to put that into words. He always asked her if she was chilly, or needed water. He played with Scrap, who was larger now, with sleek fur, and a habit of needing her belly rubbed often. He drove well, too, and unlike Uncle Darshan never cursed at the other drivers. Was this what it meant when my aunties spoke of “suitable boys”? But did Nalani long for Rajan? She didn’t show it. A bride would be chosen for Rajan as well. It was just horoscopes.

Our family didn’t believe in horoscopes. Regularly we went to temple, and every morning we chanted at the kitchen shrine. We had favorite gods and goddesses. But we left some of the trappings behind, the ones that said sect must marry within sect. Uncle Darshan, especially, was vocal about modernity. He could, and did, orate at length about women’s rights, and the capacity of female brains. Aunt Pa sometimes rolled her eyes, because her female brain knew that brains had no gender, they were simply brains, and no one used his as much as Einstein had.

Rajan’s family did believe in horoscopes, and they were the ones to say no to Nalani. Theirs was an orthodox family that required the women in the household to isolate once a month, eat separately, and not let anyone, except for babies and toddlers, touch them. Auntie Pa wouldn’t explain why, but we found out from school friends that one day, both Rasi and I would bleed, and need some bandages, that it wasn’t that anything was wrong, but something that just happened. For months, I feared that day, expecting the worst, until I forgot about it. We couldn’t use something called tampons like my mother carried in her purse, because then we’d no longer be virgins, and being a virgin was important, like getting good marks at school.

Ajay’s family did not believe in the isolation laws, and were on the fence about horoscopes. They didn’t particularly want Nalani to work after marriage, but would not stand in her way. Nalani had decided to become a doctor, and after the wedding would go to medical school. She would have more degrees than Ajay, which only bothered Ajay’s mother, but Ajay’s father thought they would be lucky to have a first-class doctor in the family.

My parents were modern as well, but theirs was an arranged marriage. From America, they sent me photographs, taken in parks and from their car, and they looked happy. I had become so used to their absence. Sometimes I wished I could ask my mother things about marriage, about Ajay and Nalani, about all our strange old customs. In my letters to her, I usually said I was fine, the weather good, and what I was reading. She was a great reader herself, and sent packages of books for all of us to share. That was how I got to know Ramona the Pest, and The Four-Story Mistake, and Encyclopedia Brown. Sometimes a strange disquiet would come over me at bedtime, and perhaps that was when I missed my mother the most, but reading usually made the feeling go away.