The Weight of Heaven (9 page)

morning and I knew there was no way he’d make it back to Ann

Arbor. But at seven that evening, the doorbell rings, and there’s

Frank. He said he couldn’t bear the thought of us being apart for

our first Thanksgiving. It took him ten hours to make a trip that

would’ve normally taken less than three.”

“Yah, there’s something wonderful about that kind of young

love—” Nandita said.

“But here’s the thing,” Ellie interrupted. “Even today I know he’s

the one person in the world I can count on to stand at my front door

during a snowstorm. Isn’t that something?”

“It is.”

They smiled at each other shyly and then looked away. “Nan,”

Ellie said. “I don’t know if I ever told you this but I’m so grateful for your friendship. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me

since—”

Nandita waved her hand to cover up her embarrassment. “Yah,

and you think living for seven years in this godforsaken place without a single intelligent person to talk to was a picnic for me? Shashi

always says that I would’ve divorced him if you hadn’t showed up in

the nick of time.”

Ellie laughed. “Speaking of Shashi, how’s he doing?”

“Find out for yourself,” Nandita said promptly. “Why don’t

you and Frank come over for dinner tonight? I’ll throw something

together.”

Ellie considered. “Frank’ll probably be too tired to want to go

out again tonight. Maybe another night would be better.”

Nandita gestured toward the phone. “Why don’t you call him?

That way, if someone is refusing my kind invitation, it’s Frank. And

not his know-it-all wife.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?” Ellie grumbled as she got up.

“God, you remind me so much of my older sister, Anne, I can’t tell

you.” She dialed Frank’s number.

5 6 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

Frank answered on the third ring. And to Ellie’s surprise, said

yes immediately. “It will be nice to get out of Girbaug for a few

hours,” he said, and Ellie could hear the fatigue in his voice. He’s

under more pressure than I know, she thought. “Did something

happen at work today, hon?” she asked cautiously.

“Just more of the same labor shit. How anybody does business in

this country, I don’t know. Now the rumor is, they’re planning a goslow. I’ll explain what that is when I get home,” he added.

Nandita was gesturing toward her, asking for the phone. When

Ellie handed it to her, she spoke briskly, without preamble. “Frank?

Nandita. I have an idea. How about if I take Ellie home with me?

And you have your driver bring you to our house directly from

work? That way, we can eat as soon as you get there. I’m sure you’re

not getting much time for lunch these days.” Her voice was even,

without a trace of sympathy or judgment.

They spoke for a few more minutes and then Nandita hung up

without giving the phone back to Ellie. “That’s settled, then,” she

said. “You’re coming home with me.”

“Hello?” Ellie said. “Am I not to be consulted at all? Who’s the

know-it-all now? And what if I had some other plans?”

“You have no other plans,” Nandita said flatly. “Anyway, Frank

thought it was a good idea.”

“Oh, I see. Frank thought it was a good idea. And what am I?

Chopped liver?”

“Ellie.” Nandita fixed her a baleful look. “I must say, that is the

most disgusting of all American expressions. Now, do you want to

get changed or are you ready to go?”

“I swear, you are such a control freak,” Ellie laughed. “Man, if

you were one of my clients I’d—”

“Which, thankfully, I’m not,” Nandita said, as she linked her

arm into Ellie’s. “Another disgusting American habit—therapy.”

*

*

*

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n

5 7

Nandita was true to her word. Dinner was a simple meal—daal with

mustard seeds and an eggplant cooked in a spicy tomato sauce. Plain

yogurt and white basmati rice topped off the meal. Frank wanted to

learn how to eat with his fingers, and Shashi tried to teach him, but

he gave up soon after the other three picked up their forks. “This is

harder than chopsticks,” he declared.

Discussing Frank earlier in the day had cleansed Ellie’s sour

view of him, like an afternoon shower washing the grime off a

window. Her heart had leapt as soon as he’d walked in the door,

his six-foot frame slightly stooped, his white shirt hanging out at

the sides. She noticed that the blond hair was a little overgrown and

reminded herself to cut it this weekend, noticed the creases of fatigue near his gray eyes, the light shadow around his chin. Her heart

softened with tenderness. So that it took no effort to push herself

out of the comfortable couch and fling her arms around him as she

kissed his lips. She ignored his look of surprise, ignored Nandita’s

bemused, raised eyebrow. She suddenly felt light, deliriously happy,

as if Frank’s presence was the perfect way to cap a pleasurable afternoon. In Nandita’s house, away from the claustrophobic insularity

of Girbaug, she felt free and safe for the first time in a week. It took

her back to her grad student days, to being in someone’s house, with

the Rolling Stones or R.E.M. playing on the stereo and the smell of

Chinese takeout food, and the sensual anticipation of an evening of

booze and food and conversation.

She kissed Frank again, and he returned her kiss, deeply, sincerely. It had been a long time since he had kissed her like this,

looked at her with warm eyes, without a trace of the guarded expression he usually wore. It wasn’t a performance for Nandita’s

benefit either, Ellie knew. Nanditsa had in fact slipped out of the

room after muttering a “Hi, Frank,” and still Frank was looking at

her intently, smiling his pleasure, as if he was memorizing her, as if

he had forgotten how happy it made him to look at her.

5 8 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

They heard the tinkle of ice in Shashi’s glass before he walked

in. “Oh, hello, Frank,” he said, and in her happiness, Ellie imagined

that Shashi seemed genuinely pleased to see her husband. “Welcome. What can I get you? I’m having some whisky myself. And

the ladies are drinking gin and tonics, I think.”

“Actually, a beer sounds better than anything. It’s damn hot

today.” Frank kept his arm around Ellie.

“A Heineken it is,” Shashi said, and Ellie grinned to herself. It

was one of Nandita’s pet peeves, how Shashi refused to drink or

serve Indian beer at home.

“Dinner will be ready in a half hour, yes?” Nandita said. “Let’s

sit and relax until then.” She turned to Frank. “How have you been,

stranger?”

He sighed. “Okay, I think. I’m sure you’ve heard about—the

situation.” He paused, took a long gulp of his beer. “It’s hard. Everybody’s nerves are shot.” He hesitated and glanced at his hosts, as

if he was unsure whether to go on. “I—I’m not really good at reading the labor situation. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like a clumsy

Ugly American than I do these days. The way you—they—do

business here is so different than—” He turned to Shashi, making a

visible effort to lighten his tone. “So, any words of advice, Shash?”

Ellie felt the muscles in her stomach tighten. Please don’t let

Shashi be flippant, or worse, enigmatic, she prayed. Please don’t let

him rebuff Frank.

But Shashi’s tone was sympathetic, sincere. “Hard to know what

to do, Frank. It’s a bad situation. My best advice would be—settle.

Give them a little of what they’re asking for. Make them feel like

they won something. A few rupees here and there won’t matter so

much to your company. You can recover it somewhere else. But to

these people, it will mean a lot.”

Ellie had raised the same point over dinner yesterday, and Frank

had bristled, told her she didn’t understand the mindset of the Indian

worker. So she was surprised to hear him say, “Not so easy, Shashi.

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n

5 9

I’d like nothing more than to give in. But there’s so much pressure

from headquarters, you have no idea.”

“Bollocks.” It was Nandita. “These people live in wretched conditions—ask your wife, she has seen where and how they live. Tell

her to speak to your boss in Ann Arbor about what she sees in the

villages. Two less expense-account lunches a month for him will

pay for their raises.” Shashi tried to lay a warning hand on her, but

she shook it off and turned to face Frank again. “Listen. You’re my

friend. So I tell you, settle this. I’m an atheist, you know that. But

one thing I believe: one should only pick fights with those who can

fight back. And these people can’t, Frank. They’re poor, hungry,

weak. But don’t they have the right to eat just like we do? Or any

American does? HerbalSolutions makes enough profit here. Shit,

you could double their salaries and still make a profit. You know

that. It’s obscene to—”

“Nandita,” Shashi said, and they all heard the iron in his voice.

She suddenly looked chastised. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry,

Frank. Sorry, El. You know how I get carried away.”

For a second, it was awkward in the room, with all four of them

looking at the floor, but then Frank said, “That’s what we love about

you, Nan. You’re a true friend.”

It sounded so much like the old Frank, sincere and guileless,

that Ellie felt teary. Despite the few bumps and moments of awkwardness, there was something restorative about this evening, she

thought. “This reminds me of grad school,” she heard herself say.

“You know, we’d sit up nights arguing and almost coming to blows

over all kinds of issues. But we were all as close as this.” She crossed

her fingers.

Nandita smiled slyly. “And to complete the grad school fantasy

camp, we have some aids,” she said. She disappeared from the room

and returned a few minutes later with a carved wooden box and rolling paper. “I just got some real good weed from one of my contacts,”

she said proudly. “I thought, maybe after dinner?”

6 0 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

Shashi smiled noncommittally. But both Frank and Ellie said,

“Count me in.”

It was dark by the time they were done with dinner. “Just leave

the dishes in the sink,” Nandita told Ellie, who was helping her clear

the table.

Shashi refreshed their drinks before they moved into the small

sitting area off the living room. Unlike the other rooms in the house,

it had no furniture, just handwoven rugs and large, cylindrical pillows on the floor, against which one rested one’s back. It was Ellie’s favorite room in the house. She sat crossed-legged against one

of the white pillows and pulled Frank down next to her. When he

sat down, she heard his left knee crack, the way it did whenever he

made a sudden movement. She watched as, with great solemnity,

Nandita rolled the joint, inhaled deeply, and then passed it on to her.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. That’s some good stuff,” Ellie said, but

Nandita had left the room to go plug in her iPod. Ellie smiled as

Simon and Garfunkel’s “Feelin’ Groovy” wafted over to her from

the next room. The perfect song for the evening, she thought, and

from the way the others were looking at her, realized she’d spoken

out loud.

“She’s high already,” Frank laughed. “I can tell.”

“Am not,” she said, grabbing for the joint as it made its way

around, afraid that they would cut her off.

“You’re a lightweight, babe,” Frank teased. “Admit it.”

“Well,
I
wasn’t the one who got drunk the first time we went to a

party together,” she said loftily.

“Hey, no fair. There’s got to be a statute of limitations on the

dredging up of old stuff.”

“All’s fair in love, sweetheart,” Nandita said. Her dark eyes were

bright, sparkling. “Spill the beans, El.”

Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue suddenly felt like

it was made of cotton wool. It took too much energy to tell a story,

she realized. “You tell it,” she told Frank. “Tell on yourself.” The

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n

6 1

last phrase struck her as hilarious. She giggled and pretty soon, she

heard a fellow giggle and, turning her head, realized it was coming

from Shashi. That only made her laugh more.

Frank groaned. “Oh, no. There she goes. Once the giggling

starts . . .”

“Tell on yourself, Frank.”

He turned to Nandita. “It’s nothing, really. The first party we

went to together—and she’d put me through hell before she even

agreed to go out with me, let me tell you—was at the apartment of

an ex-boyfriend of hers. Or so I believed, at the time. Turns out he

wasn’t her ex, after all. But I didn’t learn that till later.” He shook his

head, looked at the lit joint that Ellie had passed him, and then took

a deep drag.

“Frank,” Nandita said. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Damned if I know.” He stared at Nandita hard, as if trying to

solve a puzzle. “Yeah. Jealousy. That’s what we’re talking about

here. Anyway. So naturally, I did what any red-blooded male would

do. I got roaring drunk. Every time I caught her talking to old dickhead, I took another swig of my beer. Somehow Ellie managed to

get me to her apartment that night. And I passed out on her couch.