‘You can order a glass for yourself if you want,’ Mindi said.
‘That’s all right,’ Nikki said. She thought she saw Mindi’s shoulders drop slightly with relief.
They did not talk about Ranjit on the tube ride home. Nikki waited patiently for Mindi to ask for her opinion. Finally, as they stepped into their house and went up the stairs to their respective bedrooms, Nikki tossed her bag on the bed and followed Mindi into the bathroom.
‘A little privacy please,’ Mindi said, wiping off her eye make-up.
‘You haven’t asked me what I think of him,’ Nikki said.
‘I don’t need to know,’ Mindi said. Both her eyes were closed now as she rubbed the wipe across her lids.
‘What happened to wanting my approval?’
‘Honestly, I’m reluctant to ask.’
‘Why?’
‘You hardly said anything once our meals arrived. Ranjit tried to get to know you and you gave him one-syllable answers.’
‘I don’t have much to say to a guy like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘You know.’
‘Enlighten me, please,’ Mindi said.
‘He seems quite conservative.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
Nikki gave Mindi a long look. ‘Is he going to be uncomfortable every time I have a drink? If I smell like cigarettes, is he going to wrinkle his nose at me? Because I felt like the wayward sister – the one who brings down the family’s reputation.’
‘He’s working on that,’ Mindi said. ‘He grew up in a traditional family. It freaked him out a bit when I told him that you lived and worked in a pub.’
‘Does he know about my role in the story classes?’
‘Yes.’
‘What was his reaction?’
‘He was uncomfortable with it.’
‘What a surprise.’
‘The point is, he’s coming around. He cares so much about me that he wants to be more accepting. It will just take him some time.’
‘Why be with someone who’s making the journey? You could be with someone who has already arrived.’
‘His traditional values have a good side as well. He’s very family oriented and respectful. Nikki, you go on about how narrow-minded everyone else is yet you think there’s only one way to live and fall in love. Anybody who isn’t like you is doing it wrong.’
‘That’s not true!’ Nikki protested.
Mindi tossed the wipe into the bin and pushed past Nikki. She entered Nikki’s bedroom and grabbed the letter from her dresser. She waved it at Nikki, who tried to snatch it back. ‘What the hell, Mindi?’ Nikki cried.
‘I’m tossing this in the bin.’
‘Give it back.’
‘I don’t know what it says or who it’s from but it’s clearly driving you crazy.’
‘This has nothing to do with—’
‘You’re unsettled about something and I can tell that this letter is connected to it. Every time it catches your eye, you get that same pinched look you have on your face right now – like you’re one step away from covering your ears and singing la la la until you’re left alone. Read it or I’m throwing it away.’
Mindi tossed the letter on Nikki’s bed and retreated into her own bedroom, shutting the door. Nikki was too taken aback to say anything. She sank back on her bed. Lights from a slowly passing car threw shadows across the ceiling. Mindi could be heard shuffling around her room. ‘Min?’
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ she called back.
Silence from Mindi. Then: ‘Idiot.’ Nikki grinned and scooted towards the wall that they shared. She gave it a hard hit with her heel. Mindi responded by thumping back on the wall with her hand – just like they used to when they were children. Mindi’s side of the wall remained silent for a few moments. ‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Yeah?’ Nikki asked.
‘You’re up later than I expected.’ Mindi’s syrupy tone suggested that she was not addressing Nikki. Next came a surreptitious giggle. Ranjit was on the phone. Nikki raised her foot, about to thump the wall one last time for good measure, but she decided against it. Instead she picked up the envelope on her desk, took in a deep breath and ripped it open.
Dear Nikki,
I can’t expect you to read this letter without feeling hurt and disgusted with me. I lied to you. I had many opportunities to tell you about my marriage and my divorce, but I hid it from you because I was afraid of what it might say about me.
Everybody considers my marriage breakdown a failure and I’ve struggled to accept it myself – I’ve failed my family and I’ve failed as an adult.
I owe you an explanation and it’s up to you whether you read it.
A few years ago, when I finished university and started working, I was expected to get married immediately – as the oldest son I was pressured by my family to set an example. I would walk in the door after work and my parents would beckon me to the study to look at the top profiles they had shortlisted from the Indian matrimonial websites.
I put off meeting any of these women, wanting to live a free life before settling down. I figured I still had time but I fought constantly with my parents and I ended up moving into my own place. Then my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She went through exhausting tests and chemotherapy sessions that wore her down. The pressure began to mount again, from Dad, aunties and uncles, and even my younger siblings who just wanted something to celebrate at a dreary time. The message was clear: get married, and give your mother just a small sense of peace.