He suggested if I couldn't get my act together, I should consider taking a leave of absence. Only with the thought of getting my life back on track, right?
You know how I read Aaron's talk with me?
Get your billing ass on board, girlie, or you'll be fired by Spring.
…and the horse he rode in on.
It was official.
My life was crap.
*.*.*.*.*
"Hello. My name is Agent Jeremy Grant and this is my partner, Agent Freeman. I'm here to meet with Chief Patel?"
Ram welcomed the Federal Agents into his office.
Agent Grant explained that he had been following the activities of the Milosevic family for many years and that Steve Quinlan's behavior in recent weeks had led him and his team to Grantham.
"We're still trying to find the connection that Steve Quinlan must have with your town."
"I'm sorry?"
"Steve Quinlan was the accountant to the Milosevic family in New Mexico. Then, he wasn't. He fell off the radar but when we finally pinpointed his movements, he had been showing up in Grantham."
A small smile, a thin lipped smile was given by Agent Grant to Police Chief Patel. It was not a gesture that recognized a co-worker on a level playing field.
But as a bureaucrat who was lording his job over the local law officials.
Ram thought if he didn't know better, his father would've found the perfect venue to extract his revenge via Agent Grant.
"We will, naturally, provide you and your men every resource that is available to us."
Agent Grant, popping his cuffs to some internal exact measurements smiled softly before saying, "Of course you will."
Chapter Twenty Seven
I admit that I wasn't really myself, in those days after that Saturday. The weird Saturday night where I discovered exactly how far apart we were. How that little juncture between our worlds was so much smaller than I thought it had been.
Oh, no, I didn't say his name anymore. I didn't even think it.
When I thought of him, and I steeled my heart not to, it was in terms of 'him'. No specific name, which is what you'd call someone if you didn't know them. Which was, on so many different levels, true.
What my heart had discovered in those many years or, should I say, miles, of driving is that I needed to be back in my own place.
The man who had captured, and then broken, my heart was simply 'him'.
The man who had no place in my life now.
Because I was white.
Because he was engaged to another person that his culture wanted him to have, who would suit him so much better than, well, me.
On the Sunday immediately after that Saturday, I bought a sleeping bag.
I bought two sets of towels and two pillows.
I packed all my stuff at Aunt Estella's and took it back over to Arminster Arms.
I made a grocery list and went to the store to restock my fridge and pantry. But my shopping cart absolutely did not include Pop Tarts.
That was the kind of food that only kids ate.
Kids, the smaller kind of people.
The ones that thought anything was possible if you wanted it bad enough.
I was able to take a shower, get into my nightie and snuggle into my sleeping bag without any problem.
But, my brand new alarm clock, obviously not knowing my recent history, kept ticking over the minutes.
Not allowing me to sleep.
I went to work and realized that my job was in jeopardy because of things out of my control. And my connection to the 'old' owner was not a good thing to have. No matter that he was my beloved uncle, who I still loved and missed.
This is going to sound really strange but I found myself spending a lot of time in my Charger. I loved my car. I loved the freedom a car gave you, and, if I were to consider leaving Grantham, all I had to do was put the key in the ignition, ensure it had plenty of gas and I could, just like that, be gone.
I found myself sitting in it for hours.
Staring out the windshield, making sure I wasn't thinking or feeling anything at all.
If I wanted to watch TV or a movie, I took my laptop to the Library to use their Wi-Fi. But I made a point of parking on the other side of the Library. You know, away from the park that was next to it. Sometimes there just wasn't any parking on the side I wanted.
So I went home.
And sat in my car, staring out the windshield. Trying not to think or feel.
I was only in that 'Numb Phase' for a little while before I'd finally had enough. I bought a bed and the bedding. Using the Furniture Now two-year, no interest, payment plan, I bought a couch and chair, barstools and lamps.
I decided to stick with blue, to stick with my signature color. It wasn't juvenile to have a color that means something to you. And the color blue made me feel good.
Unfortunately, the delivery charges were killer because I had to make sure the furniture was delivered on a weekend. No more unexpected time off for me.
After the furniture was delivered, I brought Floyd home even though I could tell that Auntie was upset to see him go. And as he wandered from room to room, caterwauling the entire time, I think Floyd missed her just as much.
I hosted a Girl's Night and, while it was fun, my heart wasn't in it. I think Leila was feeling much like I was if her expression was any indication; the expression on her face slid on in between the 'not fully there' smiles. Cait and Frank were at it from the moment they came through the door and with Crys adding her two-cents ever so often, kept the smiles and laughter coming.
I was replenishing one of the trays when Crys made her way to me in my tiny kitchen.
"What's going on, Marianne?"
"Nothing much, Crys. What about you?"
I glanced at her when she didn't reply.
"I asked you, Marianne. What is going on?"
"Sorry?"
"Do you think Leila is acting like herself, the self we know?"
I looked over at Leila with her fake smile in place as she seemed to listen to something Cait was saying.
"No. But we all know why, Crys."
"Yeah, we do. So what's going on with you? You and Leila in some kind of Zombie club or something?"
"Zombie Club?"
"Marianne, this is me, alright? Something is wrong. I've never been around you when you weren't laughing your ass off or making your smart ass remarks. But you're not, well,
you,
tonight and I'm asking you, why not."
"Just a lot on my mind, Baby Girl," I said.
"Calling Bullshit, Marianne," Leila, who obviously wasn't as tuned in to Frank and Cait's conversation as I thought, called loudly from the couch.
I could feel my face redden as all their faces turned to me.
"Hey, did you guys hear that the Chief of Police is engaged?" I had opened my mouth to deny Leila's Bullshit call, but my mouth obviously had a different agenda.
Caitlin stood up and made her way to me.
Leila and Frank snagged the barstools.
"Really? Engaged?" Cait asked her eyes roaming over my face.
"Yeah, his father set it up. An arranged marriage in this day and age. Can you believe it?"
I felt Cait's hand cover mine. She's the only one in the group that knew how involved I had been with Ram.
"So does that mean that Paul has an in?" Crys asked.
"Ah, not exactly," I mumbled putting the refilled tray on the bar in front of Frank and Leila.
"Did
you
know that his family was setting this up?" Leila asked.
"Ah, not exactly," I mumbled again.
"Did
he
know that his family was setting this up?" Leila pressed.
"What do you mean? Their families can get them engaged without the girl and the guy
knowing
?" Crys said narrowing her eyes at the thought.
Wait…what?
Was it possible that even
he
was unaware of the engagement?
"I've had a couple of students this has happened to, where their families decided who their child would be marrying and when. From what I've seen, sometimes the kids know and sometimes they don't." Leila shook her head as she spoke.
"That's crazy," Crys whispered.
"Yeah, it's different than what we're used to but, then on the other hand look at the divorce rates. Lots of people in the first throes of lust get hitched but then divorce when the fire doesn't burn so bright anymore," Cait said.
She kind of had a point.
Damn her.
"Do you think he knew?" Frank asked looking at me.
"I don't know," I admitted softly.
"How did you find out about it, the engagement?" Cait asked.
"I, ah, had been invited over for, ah, dinner. I was there at the table when his father announced it."
"How did he react to his dad's announcement?" Leila asked softly
"I don't know. I, ah, didn't stick around."
"You
left
?" Crys cried.
"So what is he saying now? Are you two still dating?" Frank asked.
"Uhm I…I mean, I haven't…"
"Shit! You've gone wuss on us. On
him
." Crys yelled. "Did you scrape him off, Marianne? C'mon. Say it. If you're woman enough to do it, you're woman enough to say it."
Leila flinched like she had been physically struck and her face paled.
"I didn't scrape him off." I said defensively. "I, uhm, have just been avoiding his calls. If he wants me, he knows where I live."
"Bullshit, Marianne," Leila said.
I shut up because I knew she was, actually
they
were, right.
I'd wussed out.
It wasn't long after that they all left.
I cleaned up and was going to go to bed.
I had every intention of going to bed.
But the thought of laying there, alone in the dark with my thoughts held absolutely no appeal for me.
I turned off all the lights except the one over the stove and grabbed my keys and wallet.
The rain must've started earlier because the ground was really wet from what I could see from the porch. I didn't much feel like a drive in the rain. But I didn't want to go back inside either.
So I stood there watching the light rain, protected from the wet by the awning.
I don't know how long I stood there or when I came out of my head and started to pay attention to my surroundings.
Down the block I saw a Black truck that reminded me of Ram's. Which brought the thoughts up, the memories of that Saturday night.
What if he didn't know what his father had planned?
He had said that his father and uncle were up to no good and I had laughingly called it a 'caper'. That Ram and I were in cahoots to "Fake Out Dad".
There was someone sitting in the cab of the Black truck, momentarily illuminated by the headlamps of a passing car.
I pushed away from the wall that I'd been leaning against and went down the stairs to the sidewalk, pulling my sweater around me.
I walked towards the truck, my heartbeat increasing the closer I got. I moved from the sidewalk and was walking determinedly towards the truck, right down the middle of the street.
I saw the driver door open and he stepped out, closing the door softly.
"Did you know your dad was going to do that?"
"No,
Pyari
."
"Are you engaged?"
"No,
Pyari
."
I stopped, right in the middle of the street, and stared at him the rain finally heavy enough to drip down our faces.
"Do you love me, Ram?"
"Yes,
Pyari
. With all my heart."
*.*.*.*.*
Ram held her close in her small bed, not able to sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep in the days following his father's betrayal.
As requested, everyone had left his home and Kanti was the only one besides Mataji he spoke with after he ordered all of them out.
Kanti was just as appalled as he was, telling him she was seeing a wonderful guy in Denver and they hoped to get married after they graduated.
She also apologized for her family, specifically for her dad, but Ram understood it wasn't her fault any more than it was his. The blame rested firmly on their father's and his uncle's shoulders, who he could figure was the instigator in all of this and who would've taken a 'marriage broker' cut from the money spent.
Ram's mother didn't speak much as she raced around getting all of their things together, trying to get out of the house as fast as possible. She said his father was sitting in the car, refusing to come in until Ram apologized.