Oleander Girl by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni Read Free Book Online Page B

trigger something in Rajat?
    I take a deep breath and plunge in. “Was that Sonia in the silver outfit?”
    In the dark, I can’t see his expression. He’s silent for so long that I expect him to say he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
    At last he exhales heavily. “I’ve done some stupid things in the past, Cara. One of these days I’ll tell you about them. But I don’t want to ruin this evening. I still can’t believe that we finally belong to each other. That we’ll be married in just a few weeks. This means we need to decide where to go for our honeymoon. What would you like? Mountains? Foreign cities with lots of shopping? Casinos and nightclubs?”
    He’s changing the topic, I see that. I let him. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime evening. I don’t want to ruin it any more than he does.
    “How about the ocean? I’ve never been to the ocean.” Am I thinking of my dream? I don’t know.
    “Okay. We could fly to Goa. Lovely beaches there, and lots of nightlife, too. Or there’s Lakshadweep, quite spectacular. And very private.” He kisses my hand, lips lingering on my palm, then takes my fingers into his mouth, sending a shiver through me.
    “I don’t want anything expensive. Your family has already spent so much on this reception, and now the wedding’s coming up sooner than we expected. Just a couple of days someplace close would be fine.” I search for a name I heard Mimi and her friends mention once, when they were talking about fun weekends. “How about Digha? Isn’t that just a few hours’ drive from Kolkata?”
    “I hate that place! It’s low class.”
    I’m startled by his vehemence and mortified as well. Mimi had said she’d found Digha charming. Apparently I’ll have to learn to evaluate things more stringently, now that I’m about to become a Bose.
    “I’ll let you choose,” I say, and am rewarded with a hug.
    “I’ll pick the perfect honeymoon spot. You’ll love it, Cara. And you’ll love tonight—our own little after-party.”
    His lips are hot on my bare shoulder. He presses into me. I’m suddenly afraid of what tonight might hold.
    In the darkness someone clears her throat loudly, announcing her presence. Startled and embarrassed, I try to pull away, but Rajat holds me to his side.
    It’s Maman, just as I’d feared. Even in the half dark, I can see how rigidly she holds her body. I can’t blame her for being angry. But when she calls Rajat’s name, her voice is weighted down with some larger problem.
    “What is it, Maman?”
    She tells us. Her words slash to pieces the world I’ve known.

    Rajat clenches his teeth as the Mercedes hurtles down the night streets toward the hospital, bucking and rattling across potholes because he has impressed upon Asif that speed is more important than comfort or even the welfare of the car. Bands of light from the street shiver over them, followed by striations of darkness. Glistening with tears, Cara’s face materializes in the corner, then disappears, then materializes again in a beautiful, hypnotic pattern. “Why is there so much traffic this late at night?” she says, clenching her fists, when they are forced to slow down behind a truck loaded high with bales of cotton. But Rajat guesses that she’s really asking another question, Why should this terrible thing happen to us? He doesn’t know how to answer it because it is his question, too. Why should this happen to us today of all days? Her distress fills the car. When he glances at her, his chest feels as if someone were squeezing it in an iron fist. For the first time in his life, he’s learning one of love’s tragedies: no matter how much you want to suffer in your loved one’s stead, you cannot take away her pain.
    Earlier, when he helped her into the car, Cara said, “It’s my fault. I fought with him and brought this on.” He told her it wasn’t true, she wasn’t thinking straight; but he was shaken by the conviction in her voice. He tried to put his arm