Chapter 13 Veera

Chapter 13 Veera

VEERA: HELP. Deepak's mom had a whole welcome ceremony for me when I showed up at the house today. I stepped in red dye, and I marked

the house with turmeric paste and everything. I'm currently hiding in the bathroom. Is there anything else I should know that

might happen?

KAREENA: Okay, deep breaths. You're going to be fine. You know Deepak's parents. You've met them before.

VEERA: Yeah, at your wedding and at charity events! Never like this.

BOBBI: It's sort of the same thing. All you have to do is be your funny, sweet self, and everything is going to be okay.

BOBBI: You're stronger than all of us, Veera. You always have been so good at shouldering our emotions, your families' drama, and

your own feelings. You can do this!

KAREENA: There is probably going to be a chuda ceremony, where your mother-in-law removes your red bangles for you, but that's it.

I don't think you have to worry about anything else.

BOBBI: Oh, I remember that Prem's mom also made Kareena a meal.

KAREENA: That's right! When we went out to California, it was a big thing.

VEERA: Wait, where was I during this?

BOBBI: I think that was right around the time the merger talks started.

VEERA: Okay. Good to know.

Veera tucked her phone away into her blouse and adjusted her boobs to conceal it. Then she stepped out of the bathroom with

the hopes that she could just follow the voices to where everyone was congregating.

She almost ran into Deepak.

He was leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone. When he saw her, he looked relieved, and put his cell in his back

pocket. "You okay?" he asked.

Veera nodded. Then she held up her hands that were still tinged with a faint yellow color. "I don't think I'll be staining

anything in your parents' house, but I had to make sure."

He shook his head. "I doubt my parents would care."

Then he held out his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world for them to link their fingers together. "Come on," he said, as he tugged her forward. "Mom said that she cooked, and it's been a long time since she worked in the kitchen by herself."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked.

Deepak wiggled his eyebrows. "I guess you'll just have to find out."

They passed under an arched doorway and walked down a small hall that led to a great room. The room was divided by a long

dining table with the kitchen on one side and the living space on the other. The ceilings were at least two stories high,

and the back of the house was a wall of windows that opened up to a mountain view.

Even though glass separated the riot of lush trees and vegetation, Deepak's parents had brought the outdoors inside. Like

the entryway and hall, this space was decorated with fresh flowers, too. The doorways were dripping with blooms in a riot

of colors, and the kitchen was bursting with bouquets. The celebration of scents, of color and soft textures were positioned

in every corner reminding her that their marriage was no longer an entity that just belonged to them. It was part of a larger

community.

"I'm going to see if my mom needs anything," Deepak said against her ear. Then he motioned to his father. "Call me if you

need me." He wandered into the kitchen where his mother stood at the island, spatula in hand.

Veera turned toward the living space, twisting the end of her sari pallu in her hand.

"Wow," she said to Deepak's father as she approached the windows. "That's incredible."

"We like to think so," the older man replied. He stood from the couch and put his computer tablet on the coffee table. "You know, your parents came to visit before the merger. They were hoping to get a place up here as well. I don't think they've looked at properties quite yet, but it would be nice to have the extended family close by."

Veera smiled. "That would be nice, but my parents have always loved New Jersey. I can't imagine them going anywhere else."

"But being close to family is important," Deepak's father said, as he approached her side.

She realized then that Deepak got his kind eyes from his father. Her husband would most likely develop the same streaks of

white and gray in his hair.

Kaushal Datta was known to have built an empire out of a small production company that his father had started in India. He

capitalized on the need for entertainment and news that specifically was marketed toward Indians in foreign countries. However,

he was rarely in the news and had little to no press about him. The press that did exist was filled with praise about his

gentle demeanor. As he patted Veera's shoulder in a comforting gesture, she knew that the brief interviews were probably all

true.

"Come, bahu," he said, using the formal term for daughter-in-law. "Let's sit while your mother-in-law putters around the kitchen.

Do you know, she has not puttered in years? But the minute Deepak told us that he was married, she was worried you'd think

less of her because she didn't do all the cooking herself anymore."

Veera shook her head. "Trust me, I am the last person to judge."

They moved to the couches, and Veera sat opposite Deepak's father, sinking into the soft, smooth leather.

"So, my son has told me that you've been consulting for him over the last few months."

Veera nodded. "My sister and I were traveling to explore global markets because we were planning on going into business together."

"Equitable finance, right?" he said. Veera had to smile at the casual tone of his voice. As nice as he was, there was definitely

a shrewd intelligence in his eyes that she'd be a fool to ignore.

"My sister and I were hoping to build a financial services company similar to what we had at Mathur Financial Group," Veera

said. "Sana is an expert in global markets, and that was going to be our specialization moving forward. But my personal interest

has always been equitable financial practices."

She figured as long as she stuck as close to the truth as possible, then she could make it through the weekend. That's all

she had to do. Veera shifted to the edge of the couch, ready to launch into the pitch that she'd rehearsed during the week,

when Deepak's father reached out and patted her hand.

"I admit, I don't know a lot about the field. What got you interested?"

She blinked, trying to compute his question. "How did I first get interested in equitable financial practices?"

He nodded. "Why is it important to you?"

Veera had to think for a moment before she could answer his question. "Well, when I was in college, I learned about microloans.

In Bangladesh, lenders were giving women with incredible business ideas and artistic talent a few hundred dollars to jump-start

sales. What was interesting about the microloans was that once the individual paid back the loan, that money would then go

to another member in the community for the same reason. This encouraged all the women in the villages to work together so

they could all succeed and one by one get the start-up capital they needed."

Deepak's father's eyes widened. "The program was successful?"

"For a period of time," Veera said. "But it wasn't developed for expansion or growth. There was also no financial literacy for the women."

He leaned forward, a glint in his eye. "That's what you want to do with Deepak."

Veera hadn't thought about microloans in so long. When she was in college, she felt like it was almost a no-brainer to invest

in the communities her family came from. But once South Asians accumulated the wealth they were constantly searching for,

it's as if they did everything in their power to separate themselves from the poverty that they came from.

"My proposal for Deepak is a little more conservative," she said.

"Why?"

This was the second time that she'd been thrown by this man. "Why is my proposal conservative?"

Deepak's father nodded.

"Because Illyria Entertainment, now Illyria Media may not want to explore a space so risky especially if they are just starting

in the financial sector..."

"Do you think it's worth the effort?"

"Yes," Veera said without hesitation. "What's the point in having money if we can't support the rest of our community? Then

we are just becoming part of the problem. We're monetizing off the pain that our ancestors escaped."

His expression softened. This time when he reached out to touch her hand, he gripped it and squeezed. "I hope you don't mind

me saying this, Veera, but your father was a fool to let you go. And we were also foolish for failing to stand by your side."

"I don't regret my time learning about global markets," she said softly. "The last year has been good for my career." She meant it, too, she realized. Because without stepping outside the cocoon her father had created for her, she'd have never pushed beyond her comfort zone into spaces that really interested her.

Veera hadn't realized until that moment how much she'd changed. She knew that her friends and family called her soft and sweet,

but she'd still managed to survive in the shark-infested waters of her profession. She had carved out a place for herself

that felt uniquely hers. That didn't require sweet-Veera, or nice-Veera, or the Veera-with-the-sarcasm.

And maybe, in that moment, being the Veera she was now was the best thing she could do for herself.

"I'm just glad you're here," Deepak's father said. Then he looked over at the kitchen where Deepak and his mother were huddled

together. He lowered his voice so that Veera had to lean forward to hear him. "I saw the way you used to look at my son, and

I'm so glad he's finally come to his senses and now looks at you the same way."

Oh my god.

"I-I don't know what—"

"We're ready for the last ceremonial event," Deepak's mother called out.

Deepak's father patted her hand one more time, winked, and then sat back against the couch cushions. Veera looked up to see

Deepak crossing the room at his mother's side.

There was another silver tray in her hands.

How many thaalis did this woman own?

"I know that it's a bit early," Deepak's mother said, "but according to our pandit, it's been an appropriate amount of time

to remove your chuda. Deepak said that you've worn it every day since your wedding, even if you were just at the house."

Veera looked up at her husband and realized that he was watching her closely. He glanced down at the bangles she was sliding back and forth over her wrist.

"You're supposed to wear them the whole time, right?" Veera said defensively. "I don't have an uncle that I'm close with,

so one of our new, ah, friends was the one who put it on me. And I had to google some of the rules."

Deepak's mother sat next to her, hip to hip. She smelled of the flowers that decorated the house, and her smile was just like

her son's. Resting the thaali on the coffee table, she took one of Veera's hands in hers and began to remove the bracelets

one at a time, exposing Veera's wrist. Then she dropped them onto the silver tray, the sound a musical jingle.

When Veera's wrists were bare, Deepak's mother reached for a small glass jar that she'd left on the tray and dipped two fingers

into a pink cream.

With so much care, she gently rubbed the lotion into Veera's wrists. Her breath caught as the older woman massaged her hands.

Her eyes were soft and dreamy, as if she were remembering a familiar moment in her history. "Well, even though you haven't

had the wedding that a bride deserves, as your mother-in-law, I am going to do everything I can to make sure that you are

shown the love that you deserve."

Veera couldn't respond, couldn't speak with the burning lump in her throat that blocked all the appropriate words that were

supposed to come out of her mouth.

She needed to put some distance between herself and this woman who was so earnest, so welcoming and sincere. But she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. And standing at a distance, Deepak looked like this was the most normal situation for both of them. With his hands tucked in his pockets, the easy smile on his face, and his relaxed posture, he was acting like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Deepak's mother lifted a small velvet pouch off the tray and loosened the drawstring. "These bangles were given to me by my

mother-in-law. They belonged to her mother-in-law. Over the years, I've repaired them and added some stones. Now they belong

to you."

Before Veera could pull back, Deepak's mother held the bangles like she was holding a ball in her fingertips and slipped the

bangles onto Veera's wrist.

They were solid gold and embedded with tiny diamonds that spiraled around the circumference in a delicate design.

No , Veera thought. No, this isn't right. This wasn't okay. It was one thing for their deception to break her own heart, but it was another to hurt Deepak's parents

when they had never been anything but kind to her. They were too emotionally involved in the ruse.

"Welcome to the family," the older woman said. Her touch had the faintest tremor in it as she gently brushed back an errant

curl from Veera's cheek. Then she leaned in and cupped Veera's face in her hands. "Now. When are you both giving me grandbabies?"