Secret Keeper (19 page)

The girls didn’t get to talk to Raj alone until after the twins were asleep and they visited his room. “So what’s wrong with him?” Asha demanded.

“He won’t do,” Raj said immediately. “His six- year- old nephew didn’t say a word to him for three days, and the kid seemed
scared.”

“Maybe the boy’s just shy,” Reet said.

“He’s not, though. He talked to everybody else. Chattered away, in fact. I took him out to the garden to play catch, and he babbled on nonstop.”

“Did you get anything out of him?” Asha asked.

“I tried the second afternoon, but the kid looked absolutely terrified when I brought the subject up. ‘Tell me why you’re scared of your uncle,’ I said in as kind a voice as I could, and I offered him sweets and everything, but he dashed into the house. Never spoke to me again. I told Baba, but he thinks the kid could be retarded or something. But he wasn’t; he was a nice, smart boy-until I started questioning him about his uncle.”

“So why
was
he so scared, then?” Asha asked.

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Raj said.

“Thanks, Raj, for telling us, but a six- year- old’s opinion isn’t going to shut the door to this marriage,” Reet said.

“Couldn’t we find out more?” Asha asked.

“Why should we?” Raj demanded. “I don’t trust the man one bit. Turn him down, I told Baba.”

“But… but there’s nobody else,” Reet said, her voice getting smaller with each word until they could barely hear the last one.

“Just wait, then. Someone is sure to come along.” Raj took each of their hands in his, something he’d never done before. “In the meantime, I’ll try to talk to Baba again.”

But Raj’s doubts obviously weren’t strong enough, because the next day Uncle announced that he’d accepted the proposal. The match was made. Reet was to marry Dr. Poritosh Ghosh of Madras just after the year marker of Baba’s death.

TWENTY-EIGHT

A
SHA WROTE IN HER DIARY THAT NIGHT, LOCKING HERSELF IN
the bathroom. She was afraid to venture onto the roof, even though Jay was nowhere in sight. She missed him fiercely.

She wrote the same circle of thought again and again in the next few days, not sleeping, barely eating, avoiding conversation with everybody as much as she could. Reet was locked in her own trance, obviously trying to accept the inevitable. At night, though, the sisters still curled together, seeking wordless comfort from each other’s presence.

The real Ma was making tentative reappearances here and there, standing up for Reet when it came to things like setting a date or negotiating the dowry that the family in Madras wanted. Otherwise, she still seemed in the grip of the Jailor.

“Do you think she’ll return for the wedding?” Reet asked. “I want her to be happy, Osh.”

“I don’t think she’ll be happy until she knows you’re safe,” Asha said. “And neither will I.”

But how could they be sure? Once a girl was married, there was no way for her to escape. Heading repeatedly into the bathroom with her diary, Asha realized that Ma was asking the same anxious questions.

Soon, Asha knew she was running out of time. The date of the wedding was about to be set by the astrologer, relatives informed, invitations ordered. One afternoon, she slowly
climbed up to the roof. Jay had to be there, he had to. She brought her diary with her just in case, and when his window stayed closed she collapsed in her old corner and started to write yet again.

For once, her diary seemed to answer, and the shutters across the way flew open. “Good news, Osh!” Jay called. “I finished it. It’s not as good as the other one was, but I sent it to the same gallery.”

“Did they sell the first one?”

“They’ve gotten a lot of offers, but nothing that seemed right to me.”

“No good offers?”

“Let’s say your face is worth more than the value of a new Mercedes- Benz.”

“What’s that?”

“A fancy car they sell in Europe. We’ll get one when I take you there and I’ll teach you to drive it. Did you know I can drive?”

She forced herself to smile. “I believe it. You can do anything, Jay.”

“Oh no, Osh. You’re never that direct with your compliments. I usually have to tease them out of you. What’s the matter?”

Asha took a deep breath. With his curly hair and kind smile, and the way he’d shaved before coming to see her so that the skin on his cheeks and chin was clean and smooth, he was perfect. But not hers. Never hers.

“Jay, remember when you said you’d do anything for me?”

“Of course I do. And I meant it. You need money? Want me to pummel someone? Just name it, Osh.”

Her heart gave one last familiar thump- thump. Asha wondered if it would ever beat again after she said the next three words, words she could never take back: “Marry my sister.”

Jay was quiet. “What?” he asked.

“You have to marry Reet, Jay. Please. I have to be sure she’s taken care of, that nobody will hurt her. I promised my father.” Slowly, painfully, she explained Reet’s proposal and the unknowns that were waiting for her in Madras.

“But how do you know she won’t be happy with him?” Jay asked.

“I don’t know that she would be. Or that he’ll be good to her. And I need to be certain that she’ll be treated kindly, Jay.”

He was quiet again, and then she saw anger on his face for the first time. “You’re asking me to propose to your sister.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, Jay, I am.”

“No, Asha,” he said quietly. “I can’t do it. That’s the one thing I can’t do for you.”

“You said anything.”

“I didn’t mean
that.
Why can’t I come for
you
instead?” he said. “Then we could take care of Reet and your mother together.”

Asha shook her head. “A younger sister marrying first? That never happens, Jay, you know that. At least not in our circles. People will think something’s wrong with Reet.”

Nobody spoke for a long minute or two.

“Take some time to think about it,” she said finally. And then she made the decision as easy for him as she could. “But… I don’t want to see you again. Not up here. Not like this. The next time we’ll meet, Jay, is when and if you’re in the house with a marriage proposal for my sister.” With an immense effort, she forced herself to turn and leave.

“Asha, wait! Please, wait!” His voice was frantic and loud; he obviously didn’t care who heard him. “Asha!”

She ran for the stairs, opened the door, escaped, and shut the door tightly behind her. Then she leaned against it and cried as she hadn’t in weeks. After the storm of tears subsided, she washed her face, dried it, and headed straight for Raj’s room.

“I need a big padlock,” she told him.

“Why?”

“I want to lock the roof. The little girls went up there and it’s not safe for them. The walls are too low.”

“There’s one in the storage room. I’ll get it.” When he handed it to her, he smiled knowingly. “You’ll keep the key, right?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, leading the way upstairs. She looped the big padlock through the latch on the door to the roof and locked it. Then she checked it to make sure it was secure.

“Oh, come on, Osh, I’m not an idiot. I’ve kept Suma and Sita from running up to interrupt your conversations at least five or six times.”

“Well, you don’t know everything,” she said, leading him downstairs again to the small balcony attached to his room.

“Osh, don’t!” he shouted, but it was too late.

She’d hurled the key as far as she could. Her throwing arm was still good; the key landed far on the other side of the trees, somewhere short of the pond.

“Why did you do that?” Raj asked. “Now we’ll have to cut the lock the next time someone wants to go up there.”

“Exactly,” she said, and went to find her sister.

TWENTY-NINE

A
SHA DIDN’T TELL
R
EET WHAT SHE’D DONE AND LATER WONDERED
if it might have changed the way things turned out. But she kept the secret from her sister, and their lives would never be the same.

Sometimes, while she taught the cousins, or listened to her sister sing, or helped her mother clear the dinner table, she wondered what Jay would decide. She wondered how it would be to love and hate someone at the same time, as he probably loved and hated her.
But I do know how that is,
she thought.
I feel that for myself.

On the day when Uncle came home early to tea with a big smile on his face, Asha knew what he was about to say.

“We have another proposal for our girl,” he announced jubilantly.

“What?”

“Who?”

“When?”

Grandmother, Auntie, and Ma stood stock- still in different corners of the room, waiting for the rest of his news.

“From the young man who lives next door.”

Again, they all spoke at once.

“The Crazy One?” That was Grandmother.

“That rich family?” Auntie.

“I knew something better would come!” Ma exulted.

Raj was staring at Asha, his mouth open.

“The stars show an even better match for her with this fellow than the other one,” Uncle said.

“For which girl?” Reet’s question got their attention.

“For you, of course, darling,” Ma said. “What did you think? You’re the older girl of the family. You have to be married first.”

Reet shook her head. “Oh. But I can’t marry
him.”

“Why not?” At least three voices asked the question.

“Is it because he’s odd?” Grandmother asked. “I’m a bit worried about that myself.”

“No, it’s because he doesn’t love me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, my dear,” Auntie said. “He’ll come to love you. All husbands do.”

“How could he love you before he marries you?” Grandmother was completely astonished by the question. “He doesn’t even know you yet.”

“And as for him being strange, why, it’s simply not true,” Uncle said. “Turns out he’s a brilliant painter. Shows his
work in a famous gallery in Delhi. He’s getting magnificent prices for his paintings, and apparently the one he’s just finished is superb. Plus he’s been offered a prestigious fellowship in New York, at a university, that could lead to a satisfying teaching career as a fine arts professor if he takes it.”