The Sari Shop Widow (30 page)

Even Nilesh appeared to be doing a fine job greeting people at the front door and directing them to the right place despite his earlier grousing. His youthful looks helped to complete the poster-boy image. She had smiled and waved at him once or twice when she’d caught his eye. He’d rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly. She’d also noticed he’d been eyeing every young and personable female entering the store. And there had been a steady trickle of those.

Anjali’s guess about the Zanana concept had been right on target. The psychology of forbidden fruit never failed: make the entryway attractive and hint at some deep, dark secret behind it, and they were sure to come. Once they found out how lovely it was on the inside, with its willowy mannequins dressed in the most interesting fashions, the men were likely to buy something for the women in their lives. Sure enough, lots of men had visited the Zanana, and she had helped many of them with their purchases.

Almost every customer had stopped for several minutes to watch the informational video she had made with interesting facts about the origin of certain types of ethnic Indian clothing, how silk was produced, and a collage of clips of the fashion shows she had put together in recent years with appropriate background music. She’d even included demonstrations on how to wear a sari the right way, the multiple ways to wear a
chunni
, and the various means to enhance a plain outfit with the right accessories. She’d tried to make it a mini documentary combined with entertainment.

Customers seemed to love watching the fifteen-minute video that was set to play over and over all day. Although Anjali had had some doubts about it at first, she was glad she had introduced it after Rishi had assured her it was a refreshing and bright innovation. To her delight, it appeared to be the star attraction in the store. Many had stood to watch it more than once, then proceeded to order something they’d seen on the screen and liked.

Sejal seemed to be the belle of the ball. Anjali had noted with satisfaction that her cousin seemed to enjoy the day’s hectic pace. Anjali had even caught her flirting with some young man with long hair and enormous brown eyes. The good thing about Sejal’s interest in the young man was that she hadn’t been gawking as much at Rishi.

Anjali didn’t want to feel that stab of jealousy every time she saw Sejal drooling over Rishi. It was childish to feel that way, especially when she knew Rishi thought of Sejal as just a kid with a crush on an older man. But Sejal’s fresh youthfulness often reminded Anjali of her own age—and the painful fact that she herself was used goods at best.

Her mother was everywhere, a nervous hen tending to her chicks. But she was in her element. Playing boss was her favorite role in any case. She had plenty to keep her running. In spite of all the policing, an elderly woman had managed to smuggle in a glass of juice into the clothing area and spill it on the carpet. Between Nilesh and her mother they’d mopped it up, and Varsha-kaki had been permanently posted by the Neela Chai door as a security guard.

Later, a child was caught hanging on the Zanana arch, tilting it dangerously, and Rishi had to bring a step stool and perform some quick repairs. “All in a day’s work, Anju. Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he’d whispered to Anjali when she’d lamented over the damage to her precious Zanana.

Every time she’d panicked about something, it had been Rishi who’d calmed her down. A couple of times he’d stopped by just to check on her. His baritone voice had whispered to her, “Why don’t you take a break and get something to eat?” Although she didn’t need that kind of attention and didn’t expect it, it was nice to know he cared enough to do it.

“Maybe later,” she’d replied. “At the moment, food’s the last thing on my mind.”

He’d secretly squeezed her hand. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she’d said. She hadn’t realized she’d missed that kind of thoughtfulness until she’d seen the look of concern on his face. “What about your leg? You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

He’d given her a veiled smile. “Maybe you can do something about it later?”

“Um…if…”

“No ifs or buts, Miss Kapadia. I’m taking you to my room tonight and that’s that.” He’d left her frowning and staring at his back.

Had he turned bossier lately or was he always like that? She’d realized she rather liked it. She had resented his brand of assertiveness in the beginning, but it had grown on her. Maybe she was so crazy in love with him that she’d begun to look at him in a different light.

At nearly 9:00 P.M., there was still one last customer browsing in the aisles. Anjali caught her mother’s impatient look. The doors were supposed to close at 8:30 P.M., but opening day was special. It was the one opportunity to make a dazzling and lasting impression on customers, and have them spread the word. Anjali realized she was dead tired, and so was the rest of the family, but until the last customer left, the store would remain open.

Naren-kaka, his wife, and Sejal had left a while ago. Mohan had taken Jeevan-kaka and Nilesh home and then returned to help clean up. All the employees were gone, too.

Rishi was on his cell phone out in the parking lot. She’d been watching him through the window for the past several minutes, pacing as he spoke into the phone. He was in the habit of walking while he handled business calls. His limp looked a little more pronounced than it had that morning. She’d begun to notice the subtle changes in his gait, like when he was tired or he hadn’t exercised in a day or two.

Sometimes she wondered how he’d managed before the advent of cell phones. He used his constantly and it stayed on night and day since his other businesses were in different time zones. It interrupted him frequently. But he’d promised her he’d keep it off when they were intimate together. And he’d kept his promise the other night. That phone had remained silent all the while she was there.

It was a little past nine by the time she rang up the lingering customer’s purchases, saw her out, and locked the front door.

Usha came out of the office. “She finally left?”

“She bought quite a bit, Mom—well worth the extra half hour,” Anjali said.

“Thank goodness.” Her mother looked around. “Where’s Rishi?”

“He’s on his phone in the parking lot.”

“In spite of his other concerns he worked so hard today, did you see?” Usha looked out the window before shifting her gaze to Anjali.

“Yeah, can’t say he’s merely a silent partner. He’s definitely hands-on.”

Usha’s eyes on Anjali sharpened. “Did you notice how well he got along with the customers?”

Anjali knew where this was leading. “Mm-hmm.” Better nip it in the bud before her mother started reaching silly conclusions, she decided. “I better clean up.” Picking up the handheld vacuum cleaner stashed in the office, she proceeded to do spot cleaning wherever she saw the need. From the corner of her eye she noticed her mother returning to the office.

A few minutes later, Rishi walked in through the café door, pocketing his phone. “So, are we ready to call it a day?” he asked Anjali.

“I guess so. Check with my parents, will you?”

He threw a cautious glance around before approaching her. Without warning he picked her up by the waist, gave her a quick whirl, then placed her back on her feet, taking her by surprise and leaving her breathless. “Congratulations! You did it, darling!” His hands remained circling her waist.

“With your help and Jeevan-kaka’s,” she reminded him, trying to recover from his unexpected exuberance.

“I’m taking you to dinner for a private celebration.”

She gently removed his hands. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been a long day and everyone’s tired.” She gave the place one last glance. “Besides, shouldn’t this be a joint celebration? All of us are in it together.”

He mulled over it for a second. “You’re right. We’ll all go out together. After that, we’ll see if we can find some time alone.”

“Jeevan-kaka can’t stand to eat restaurant food, remember?”

He dismissed it with a wave. “I’m sure we can find something nice and bland for him. Your poor mother’s ready to drop from exhaustion. It’s not fair to make her go home and put a meal on the table at this hour.” He looked at his watch and whipped out his cell phone. “I’ll call Uncle Naren and invite his family. They worked almost as hard to make this a success.” Just before he dialed, he looked at her. “Does India House restaurant sound okay to you?”

“Sure.”

Rishi waited for his telephone to connect with Naren Kapadia’s. Leaning against the counter, he watched Anjali go about her chores: picking up this and straightening out that. She clearly couldn’t relax. He sensed the nervous energy vibrating around her. She needed to unwind soon or she was going to snap.

He knew the feeling of working for months toward a goal and then watching it unfold. It was an emotional high that was hard to descend from. Sometimes, depending on the stakes, it stayed for days, even weeks, but you had to let yourself step down from it and walk away for a bit, or the mental overload could break you in half.

He’d hoped to take her to his suite right after the store closed, help her relax, but she obviously had other ideas. However, she was right: it should be a joint celebration, a family venture, and it would be selfish on his part to keep it private.

When Naren finally picked up the phone, he seemed reluctant to get out of the house. “We are all changed and ready for bed, Rishi,” he grumbled. “We ate some leftovers after we got home. Usha gave us plenty to bring home.”

“What about Sejal? Does she want to join us?”

“Sejal is studying; she has an exam on Monday.”

“Never mind, then. How’s tomorrow night for you?”

Naren sounded more eager about that. “That sounds good. So where are we going?”

“I’ll make reservations at India House. We’ll meet you there after the store closes.”

Concluding his conversation with Naren, Rishi made the reservations, then went into the office. He found Mohan and Usha getting ready to leave for home. Usha smiled at him. “I was just on my way to get Anjali.”

“Would you mind if I took Anjali out to dinner, Auntie?”

Usha threw an uneasy glance at her husband and then at Rishi. “Umm…isn’t it a little late to go out?”

He laughed. “A storeowner calls this late?” But he noticed Mohan looking just as edgy as his wife.

“Well, it’s just that…you know…” Usha had a furrow between her brows.

“Auntie, are you worried about Anju and me seeing too much of each other?”

She threw another quick glance at her husband. “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’d like to talk to you privately about it sometime, Rishi. There’s something we need to discuss.”

“Is it urgent?”

“I wouldn’t call it urgent, but it’s important. Jeevan-bhai and I had a chat the other day and he told me a few things…about his relationship to your family and you…how much he owes you and your father.”

“I see.”

“He also told me you have a
live-in
girlfriend.”

Rishi noticed the subtle emphasis. “I’ll be happy to talk to you tomorrow.” He could tell from Mohan’s expression that he didn’t want to be included in the conversation. “You name the time, Auntie.” When she agreed, he added, “By the way, I’m taking everyone out tomorrow to celebrate at India House. I’ve already cleared it with Naren-kaka and his family. How about you?”

Usha’s face brightened. “That’ll be nice.”

“I believe you’re long overdue for a break from kitchen duty.”

She sighed. “You’re not kidding.”

“So, is it all right if I take Anjali out tonight?”

“I guess…if it’s okay with her.” Usha followed her husband out the door. “Make sure you bring her home, okay? She doesn’t have her car here.”

“I’ll drive her home.”

Rishi stood for a moment, mulling over Usha’s request for a private talk. She was clearly worried about whatever was brewing between him and her daughter. And he found that surprisingly endearing. It was a mother’s prerogative to be concerned about her children. But what was he going to tell her? He had a whole list of plans, but none of them had been discussed with Anju. If she balked at them, every one of them would pop like soap bubbles.

He shut the door to the office and went in search of Anju.

He expected her to be dusting or mopping or some such thing. He needed to rescue her from that kind of obsessive-compulsive behavior. Instead, to his amazement, he found her sitting on a low footstool inside the Zanana, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms hugging them. He came to a standstill. With mostly her back toward him he couldn’t see her expression, but she seemed pensive, melancholy.

That aura of sadness never seemed to leave her. Even when she laughed, the despondency seemed to hover just beneath the surface.

Staring at nothing in particular, she sat motionless, oblivious to his presence. In fact, she was so still she could easily pass for one of those mannequins she’d meticulously dressed. His immediate instinct was to go to her, find out if she needed comforting. But he watched her silently for a minute. Would he ever be able to eliminate the lurking shadows from her life? He sure as hell wanted to try.

Reluctant to startle her, he called her name softly. “Anju.”

She turned around. “Hi.”

“A penny for your thoughts. Dollar? Euro?”

She gave a sad shake of her head, the gesture tugging at his heartstrings. “Priceless. Did you round up the clan for dinner?”

“No. Everyone’s gone home. They all seemed disinclined to go out, so we’re set for tomorrow night at India House.” He stepped forward and offered his hands to help her rise to her feet. “What were you so deep in thought about? Still worried?”

She slid into his welcoming arms as naturally as he’d hoped. “I was decompressing. After all the excitement of the last several weeks it’s finally happened.”

“And what a smashing success it was.”

“Some months ago, when Dad mentioned bankruptcy, I panicked. I was going to lose everything I’d worked for over a decade.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And now…” She took a long, tremulous breath. “Now I look around and I can’t believe all this is partly mine. It’s so beautiful—what I’d dreamed about for years. Vik and I had planned to start an international chain of boutiques someday. He was going to be my financial manager and I was going to be the designer queen. We used to talk about it often.” Her smile was the saddest Rishi had ever seen. “Only it never happened.”