The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,70
She had not known what to say when Vijay told her of Rita, “This just isn’t working. We don’t make each other happy.”
“Well, you must begin to,” Shivani had told him, bewildered. Her son was an intelligent man!
Shivani would take more of this halva to Camden. It was she who would eat it, even cold from the refrigerator. It was she who had eaten it always, even during that nonsense in high school when she’d whittled herself down to the bones of a beggar child.
Camden Anderson without a husband. Shivani stirred and knew the wish in her heart.
Shivani and Caroline had wished for it back in the college days. Even Lalit didn’t mind the idea of their pale dark-haired children. They suited each other. And they were friends, which is what mattered beyond all else. “I will marry for love,” they’d all declared.
She snorted. Couldn’t they see the deep love, the enduring love, the real love that was already there? Ah, these movies that gave them such ridiculous notions of romance!
She stirred the thickening milk, now a rich, reddish color. Her back ached from standing, but there was still much time to go before she could melt the ghee in a skillet and brown the cashews.
Lalit came into the kitchen. She took in his white temples, the hair that grew so abundantly from his ears, the owlish look to his eyes behind such thick glasses. “Ahh, halva,” he said. He stood beside her and kneaded the small of her back, that open patch between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her petticoat, just where she ached. Shivani leaned into his touch.
“This will be good,” Lalit said, with certainty.
“It is good,” Shivani said. She turned her sweaty face up to his and kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
VIJAY CAME BACK AS OFTEN AS HE COULD DURING THAT long summer of my recovery, sometimes for little over twenty-four hours before flying back to New York (or on to Accra or Gaborone or Harare). There was safety in the fact that we couldn’t actually be lovers yet.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be each other’s rebounds,” I said. “That’s always a disaster.”
He played with the inside of my wrist. “I don’t think anything about us getting into bed together would be a disaster.”
“You’ve been my friend for so long,” I said to him. “What if we mess it up?”
“You worry too much,” Vijay said. “Why would we mess it up?”
“Promise, then. No matter what happens to us as a couple, we’ll stay best friends.”
“I promise.”
My ribs felt better much sooner than my doctor or the emergency team had predicted. I swore by the healing properties of fabulous kissing, the presence of horses, and the halva Shivani brought over (and that Vijay fed to me with his fingers).
GABRIELLA HAD ALWAYS LIKED VIJAY. HE’D OFTEN BEEN A guest in our home, so having him around wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her. We were discreet, and he slept in the guest room. When she saw us together, we were as comfortable as we’d always been. She milked his medical knowledge for all he was worth, drilling him on stem cell research, partial birth abortion, and AIDS policies.
“You like Vijay, don’t you?” she asked one morning as we both ate breakfast.
“Of course I like him. He’s been my best friend since I was six!”
“No, you know what I mean. You like him–like him, don’t you?”
No matter what I said, that splotchy blush spoke for me. “I think I do. Yes.”
I held my breath, but she grinned. “It’s obvious he likes you.”
“Likes me–likes me?”
“Hello? He worships you!”
I felt I was blushing even inside, so delectable was this thought. “Are you okay with that?”
“Of course!” she said. “You should be happy.”
I looked at her. “What about you? Tyler worships you. Shouldn’t you be happy?”
“You know what, Mom?” She stood up from the kitchen island and put her dishes in the dishwasher. “You think I broke up with Ty because of you and Dad. But maybe I broke up with him because we’ve been going out since sixth grade and I thought it was time to date someone else.”
Oh, I hated when she threw my own arguments back at me. I liked Tyler. I had not one single thing against Tyler except for the fact that for years my daughter’s love for him had given her tunnel vision about her options.
I should be rejoicing. I should feel relieved.
But I didn’t believe her.
DAVY BEGAN TO PICK ME UP IN THE MORNING AND DRIVE ME