Happiness Key (26 page)

Wanda had brought beach blankets. Two of them. And, of course, she’d brought Chase, who was slow on his three good legs, but kept up. Alice had chips and fresh fruit, plus a half-gallon Thermos of lemonade. Olivia wore a frilly bathing suit, oversize sunglasses on top of her head, and flip-flops sporting plastic daisies. She carried a book, too. Tracy glanced at it, impressed.

“
Treasure Island
. Robert Louis Stevenson,” Tracy read. “Wow, heady stuff.”

“Olivia and I share a love of pirate novels,” Wanda said. “Only she’s not quite old enough for the pirates I love best.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Tracy laughed. “The Johnny Depp kind, not the dirty, snaggle-toothed, patch-over-a-blind-eye variety?”

“I don’t know about Johnny Depp and all that eye-liner,” Wanda said.

“He’s even better looking in real life than he is on the screen. Interesting, too.”

“Well, that just about says it all. Just think, you went from knowing Johnny Depp to this. No wonder you shake that hoity-toity of yours every chance you get.”

Tracy punched her on the arm. “Johnny Depp has better manners than you do.”

“Next you’ll say he’s better-looking, and then we’ll know you’re lying.”

Janya, wearing a long patterned scarf wrapped gracefully over her bathing suit, led them back through some scrub at a point where Tracy hadn’t realized there was beach. The area was choked with vegetation, while farther down toward the point the land smoothed out into something approximating a real sand beach, although not much of one. That was the area where Tracy usually looked for shells. But now, she was delighted to see, they were in a protected cove of sorts, and while people from the mainland with prettier beaches wouldn’t bother with this one, it was a perfect retreat for the neighbors.

“Can you imagine what a developer would do with this?” she asked, as they set up for the afternoon.

“Somebody’ll pay big-time for this view. You got any takers yet?” Wanda asked.

“I don’t think my land extends this far, but I’m beginning to think that when I’m ninety, I’ll be all alone out here, in the last cottage standing.”

“Picking off the folks from Wild Florida, one by one, with a slingshot filled with sandspurs.”

That made Tracy think of Marsh, something she had tried not to do all morning. Last night’s dinner had been spectacular. The fish had been so fresh, she could have sworn it jumped out of the bay into the pan. He’d done something with sweet potatoes and pineapple that still made her mouth water, and added a salad with tomatoes and herbs he grew himself—the last tomatoes of the season, too, which she hated to hear, although of course she wouldn’t be eating with him again. Bay had awakened in time to join them, and he hadn’t whined or argued. Not about anything.

Then Marsh brought her home, walked her up to her door and told her he was not fooled by this sweeter,
earthier side, and as far as he was concerned, they were still at war.

At which point she’d kissed him. And although the kiss was meant to show she intended to win all battles, by the time it ended, she was pretty sure neither of them remembered which side they were on.

“Are you going to help or not?” Wanda asked.

Tracy came back to earth. “With what?”

“What exactly were you thinking about?”

“You wouldn’t believe it.” Tracy saw that Wanda was holding two sides of a blanket, so she grabbed the others to help lay it smoothly on the sand. The five of them worked together, and in a few minutes they had set up camp. Tracy set her iPod on the playlist she called Beach Music, put it in the speaker cradle and turned the setting to a comfortable volume.

They settled on the blankets, and Janya took out the sandwiches. They’d purchased Southern-style pimento cheese, crab salad, sharp cheddar and tomato, even hummus with sprouts—something Tracy had never expected to see at a general store and bait shop. They spread all the food in the middle, and everybody dug in, passing around chips and fruit, drinks and ice, until they were all contented. Chase got a rawhide bone to keep him busy.

“So, you promised a story,” Tracy said. “About your adventure.”

“Wanda will tell you that the fault was mine,” Janya said. “But it was really the other car.”

“See, I’m teaching Janya to drive,” Wanda said. “And today was our first lesson.”

Tracy thought how swiftly things had changed on Happiness Key.

“She was doing great,” Wanda continued. “Why, I
think we’d made it all the way up to maybe ten miles an hour. Then another car came down the road and honked at her. You know where the road jogs, this side of the bridge?”

“I am used to honking,” Janya said. “Drivers where I come from steer with one hand on the horn. It is customary—”

“Oh, please, it scared the living whatever out of you! Janya here wrenched the wheel, and went off the road and right on down to the beach. I thought we were going into the water, maybe driving all the way to India.”

“Tell me you didn’t kill some poor sunbather,” Tracy said, not sure whether to laugh or act horrified.

“I did not!” Janya looked offended.

“She came to a stop where the tide always does,” Wanda said.

Now Alice laughed. “And how…did you get back up?”

“I just sat there and let her figure it out by herself,” Wanda said. “The sand was packed pretty hard, so we didn’t get stuck.”

“I turned, put the car in Reverse, turned some more and went back out to the road,” Janya said.

Tracy applauded. “Good for you.”

“Is driving hard?” Olivia asked.

“I think I will be good at driving,” Janya said. “I have good reactions. But you will be better. It will seem normal to you after all those hours on your bicycle.”

Olivia wandered off to look for shells, and Chase limped after her. Tracy noticed the girl didn’t get close to the water, which was calm here. “Are you afraid to let her swim?” she asked Alice. Olivia seemed to have no intention of even wading.

“She won’t go in…not since Karen… Many things.”
She paused, then shrugged. “She gets frightened now. Often.”

Tracy understood.

Alice changed the subject, although she kept an eye on her granddaughter as she addressed Janya. “So you let Wanda…teach you? Not that handsome husband?”

“You think Rishi is handsome?”

Alice looked puzzled. “There is so much character…” She reached up and touched her own face.

Tracy slid her cover-up over her head so she could enjoy the sun. “You didn’t think he was handsome when you agreed to marry him?”

Janya reached for a bunch of grapes and began to slowly pick them apart. “There was another man… One I was in love with.” She looked up, as if surprised she had said the words out loud.

Tracy realized Janya felt she’d said too much. “We all have a man like that, Janya. The one who got away. I fell in love with mine in college. He married a sorority sister.”

“Mine? High school,” Wanda said. “A real low-down skunk, too.”

Janya didn’t look reassured enough to suit Tracy. “It must have been hard, though, to love someone and not be allowed to marry him,” Tracy said.

“We
were
to be married….” Janya picked at her grapessome more.

“Now we’re all going to wonder,” Wanda said. “So you’d better just spill it. Who would we tell?”

“I think it’s a story you will find hard to understand.”

“I’d like to hear, if you’d like to try,” Tracy said. “And is it worse than my divorce? Did you find out he was a felon who was about to go to jail for the rest of his life? Top that, if you can.”

Somehow, that seemed to be just the right thing to say.

“In India, we still have arranged marriages, but not, perhaps, as you think of them. In our villages, they
can
be like that. The bride might even meet her husband for the first time at the wedding. But for most of us, it’s not that way. Our families have a great deal to do with who we choose. They introduce us to acceptable men, make suggestions about others. And in the end, of course, they tell us whether they approve.”

“Let me guess,” Tracy said. “Your family didn’t approve your choice?”

“No, quite the opposite. After I finished school, I spent a year in Manchester, England, studying English and living with friends of my father’s.”

“That explains why your English is so good,” Tracy said.

Janya nodded her thanks. “Then, when I came home—changed, of course, from the relative freedom I’d experienced in Manchester—I met Darshan. He was the most attractive man I’d ever seen, handsome, considerate.”

“Fairy tale,” Alice said.

“I was attending the Sir J.J. School of Art in Mumbai. He was nearing the end of his course work in a connected school of architecture. We met at a party. My cousin, Padmini, introduced us. Padmini and I were like sisters. Her family was wealthier than mine, with more prestige, but we had always spent many hours together. I trusted her with my life and my heart.”

“That’s never a good idea.” Wanda reached for a plum. “I have a sister, and much as I love her, I wouldn’t trust her with a bottle of ketchup, not if I was planning a meat loaf in the next week or so.”

Janya talked faster now. “Padmini warned me about
Darshan. She said he wasn’t free to marry just anyone. His father was high in the government and expected to be the next chief minister of our state. His family was not only powerful, but rich and well-connected. Darshan might not submit to a traditional arranged marriage, but he would follow his parents’ lead, and his choice would need to be advantageous to his family and above reproach.”

“And you weren’t?” Tracy asked.

“Until that moment I had never thought of myself as just anyone. My family was good, my marriage prospects
as
good. I had been told I was beautiful. I might not be technically inclined, but I received a bit of praise for my art, particularly my painting. My reputation had never suffered, and I was convent educated. I thought that the man who wed me would be the lucky one.”

Alice had been quiet; now she leaned forward and rested her fingertips on Janya’s knee. “He had…no taste, dear.”

Janya smiled and covered Alice’s hand for a moment. “Thank you, Alice. But as it turned out, he did. I had told my mother of him, of course. And although she was wary, my father and uncle, whose family live with us, put her at ease. Darshan Tambe was so far above what they had expected for me that unless he was unworthy of his family’s excellent reputation, we had nothing to fear. Either Darshan would cut off our flourishing friendship and marry another, or he would persuade them to accept me. Whichever it was, unless I put myself in a compromising position, I couldn’t be harmed. I would know soon enough which it was.”

Tracy poured and passed water around the circle. “Since you didn’t marry him, this didn’t turn out well.”

Janya sounded as if she were reciting a story she had
gone over and over. “Darshan told his family he wanted to marry me. I wasn’t told what transpired, but they agreed. I accepted, of course, and our families met and made the engagement official. Plans were begun for a wedding. Although Darshan’s father asked that no official dowry be given, the wedding itself must be an occasion to be remembered by the many, many people who would be invited.”

“A big, fat Indian wedding,” Wanda said. “I saw that movie, or something like it.”

“Mr. Tambe made it clear that once Darshan and I were wed, he would make certain my father’s accounting firm was never overlooked when state contracts were awarded. My father had visions of more work than he could handle, all well-paid. An elaborate wedding was an investment.”

“Oh, boy, this is starting to sound familiar,” Tracy said. “Dress me up in a sari, and we could be twins. I won’t even tell you what my wedding cost.”

“So many arrangements had been made, so much money had been paid, so many people had been told. I was so happy. Darshan wanted to stay in Mumbai and practice in the firm where he was getting practical experience. With his family’s connections and his father’s position, when he graduated it would only be a short time before he began to make a name for himself.”

“I can’t stand this!” Wanda waved her hand. “What in the heck happened to this paragon of perfection?”

Janya wasn’t smiling. “Three months before our wedding, Darshan and his parents arrived at our home carrying Darshan’s laptop computer. There were few preliminaries. His father went to the Internet and logged on to a social networking site, one that’s very popular in India. There was my photo and information. But not just
one photo. Many, many photos, showing me in an equal number of unacceptable situations. Me drinking in a mixed crowd. Me looking as if I’d had too much to drink. Me nearly undressed, making eyes at the camera.”

“How?” Tracy demanded.

“Some of the photos were familiar. Padmini and I had joked about what we would put on such a site if we were ever tempted to join one. We had pretended we were not from families that would be scandalized by such a thing. We had pretended, making up names and taking silly pictures of each other with Padmini’s digital camera. She asked me to look at the camera the way I would look at Darshan when we were finally alone after the wedding.”

“So you told them the truth and they understood?” Wanda said. “I’m betting…no.”

“I protested, of course. I got my own laptop to show that I had no links to such a site, that someone had done this to me. I even explained how some of the photos had been manipulated, that the face might be mine but that I did not own clothing like that in the photo. I was an art student, so I knew.”

Tracy twisted the top back on the water bottle with more strength than she needed. “And they couldn’t see that?”

“Even then, I couldn’t bring myself to believe the troublemaker was Padmini. I wanted to believe someone else had come across her computer, found the photos and done this mischief. But the proof was on my laptop. The site had been set up by ‘me,’ using my equipment. It was all right there. And then I knew Padmini had not been a sister to me at all. When I visited her, I had always taken my laptop with me, so I could e-mail Darshan.”

“Well, that little vixen,” Wanda said. “Let me guess, she wanted this Darshan person for herself.”