Chapter Twelve
"If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love our friends for their sakes rather than for our own."
- Charlotte Bronte, the Life of Charlotte Bronte
Rhea had married Swayum on that very day seven years ago. They had taken in turns to promise each other things neither one could fulfill. Swayum could not be as supportive as he'd vowed to be. Rhea could not stick around as long as she had promised him. Nonetheless Swayum could not think of a better day in his entire lifetime. Technically he may be a bachelor he still saw no reason not to celebrate his wedding anniversary. The idea overflowed with masochistic lunacy but there Swayum was, ready to phone Sharon to help him commence the celebrations for the day. He decided they could put their differences aside for one day at least. Incidentally the following day was a Sunday. Swayum was determined to derive some recreation out of that night. He could not say for sure if his activities that night would ultimately render him aggrieved, hurt. Mostly they would. But he still went ahead with his initiative.
"Hello, Sharon." Swayum spoke into his cell phone.
"Hey, there, sunshine," Sharon exclaimed. So, Swayum found he really was sounding animated.
"Okay, sorry. Hello, Sharon." He came down a little.
"That's more like you, yes!" she agreed and added, "Hello, then. What can I do for you?"
"Meet me at dinner tonight, would that be good?" Swayum tentatively asked.
"Of course, it'd be grand. We'll go down to the cemetery to wish Rhea on our way. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a bit busy. See you whenever you call on me tonight." Sharon said in one go and hung up immediately. Her voice still ringing in Swayum's ear, he put his phone down and decided to leave office early. It was four in the afternoon and he had still not told his father that Reyansh was going to fly down to town the following Monday. Because Swayum felt spirited in a very extremely odd way he figured that he might as well break the news, while he could. After all Swayum's usual temper did not allow him to speak more than 'Morning, Dad.' and 'Night, Dad.' to Mr. Shikhawat.
Swayum was seated in front of his father on his bed at quarter past six the same evening. His father was reading a newspaper with crinkled eyes from under his thick old school spectacles. The specs dangled precariously on the bridge of his nose as he exerted undue pressure on his eye muscles. Swayum told him to stop doing that and his father dismissed him. "Dad, I gotta tell you something. Stop acting like you're frigging busy!" Swayum burst out.
"Easy, son," Swayum's father advised him calmly and hence, oddly.
"Dad," Swayum pressed on.
"Okay. Tell me." his father importantly permitted Swayum to begin speaking. Putting the newspaper down and removing his spectacles, Mr. Shikhawat looked up at him. Swayum noticed he looked weak, almost sick. Dismissing the notion as his usual habit to panic over people's health Swayum did the needful. His father looked at him unblinkingly for minutes. Then he surveyed the interior of his room for a while. Breaking the silence a few more minutes later, Mr. Shikhawat sounded just as rude as Swayum had expected. He did say that Swayum should tell that Barbie doll that his father dared him to come and stay with him and Swayum. But Swayum glanced meaningfully at his father after which both finalized that Mr. Shikhawat had no say in who stayed at Swayum's and who did not. For the first time in over two decades Swayum smiled at his father. He did not know how and he did not care why. He went into his room to freshen up, leaving his grumpy father behind with a week old newspaper and no company.
*
Swayum had picked Sharon up at eight from her nightclub. She was wearing a navy blue dress about one-fourth the size of her usual apparel. By the look on her face Swayum reckoned that she cannot have dressed for the occasion. She had simply been working all day. She looked fatigued but that was still better than how she had looked the last time he had seen her. 'Ramble On' shone under moonbeam, streetlight and starlight on her heart.
"You don't get to stare at my tattoo." She complained grinningly as she took a seat beside him.
"Why?" Swayum asked and did not understand the context in which he'd given rise to the question.
"You don't wanna go around encouraging a bombshell she's got a chance with you, do you, now?" she laughingly threw a satire in his face and let her hair down. It was matted and she had to use her fingers as a comb. She then gathered her hair into a very messy bun. "Are you trying on purpose to look like you just got out of bed?" Swayum questioned her, driving toward the cemetery now. She assured him that she did not bother wearing cocktail dresses to bed and laughed openly at the color rising in his cheeks.
"Shut up, Sharon." said he as he parked his Ford Taurus in front of the iron gates of the cemetery.
Sharon was the first to jump out of the car. She stretched and then pulled on her overcoat. Crossing her arms around her chest she walked into the cemetery without waiting for him. Swayum noticed she was taking something out from her overcoat pocket. It was a bouquet of flower buds. She went and put the bouquet down on Rhea's grave. He visited her every alternate day on either his way to or from work. Yet there was no exchange of presents, just like there was no exchange of words. Swayum had not known he would feel doomed even before the dinner began. He took quick steps up to Sharon and told her that he couldn't do it.
"I guess I knew. They say I'm mad. But even I wouldn't attempt to celebrate my dead spouse's anything." was her reply. She was looking down at the headstone of Rhea's grave and not into Swayum's eyes like she usually did.
"I'll just drive you home then." he informed her and left the cemetery at once. When Sharon was seated in the passenger's seat, he stole a longing glance into the cemetery visualizing his wife's gravestone. Then he shut his eyes and pictured her face, serenely smiling. It made him feel a bit better as he started driving in the direction of Sharon's residence. "You know, I was a very ridiculous sort of husband." Swayum conversationally told her.
"You know, I'm still a virgin." Sharon conversationally replied.
"Impossible," Swayum commented heartily and continued, "You know, I think you look rather hot tonight."
"You know, I was about to marry a grade A jerk a while back."
The second truth that Sharon revealed ended their little game there and then and Swayum drove carefully to the side of the road and rolled the car to a stop. He removed his seat belt and turned in his seat to face her. He waited for her to say something, anything would do. But she kept looking out of the shut window into the night. Minutes later she began, "It was arranged by my father. He tried to beat me. And I gave him hell." she began laughing and then narrated her escape from him.
"That's something huge to process." Swayum remarked, his eyes too wide for their sockets.
"No, no. He was insufferable." Sharon chuckled, her hands clutching the dashboard.
"Did you have a thing for him?" Swayum asked honestly.
"I only have a thing for you, Swayum." she replied just as honestly, still chuckling.
"I know you do. But I just told you that I was a ridiculous husband and it's my wedding anniversary today and I think you're hot, today of all days. I didn't even get my wife any flowers. I cannot get my head around the idea that you see things in me to develop, well, a thing for me." he stated in efforts to convince his best friend to get over him.
"I see where you are coming from." she agreed and ruffled his hair.
"Can I tell you something, though?" he asked, jerking her off his hair.
"Is it encouraging?" Sharon giggled and was ordered to not flirt with him. She nodded amusedly and looked into his face as he started, "You are this great, great woman and I love you because you are super and such a fierce friend. I don't care that you and I are in the middle of theatrical unrequited love right now. I just want you to know that I'm just as fierce a friend and I got your back. And that I won't be giving you a speech like this or a speech at all again in a long time! But know this, I'm your best friend too." he said, looking impressed with himself.
"But a ridiculous husband," Sharon added smilingly.
"Very ridiculous, yes." he agreed and resumed driving. That night he did not join Sharon at her place for dinner but for booze. Swayum made it short because he needed nothing more than to return to Rhea that night. He needed her to know that he did the right thing as a friend and that he missed her. He wanted to wish her a happy anniversary. Also, he needed to leave Sharon alone because nobody could endure long sessions of getting drunk over wasted love with a friend when both the wasted lover and the best friend is the same guy. Swayum loved the person she was, he could finally see beyond his own need of her company. He was thinking like a friend. And his vision of a friend prompted him to let her be and head home to his dead wife and drunken father.
Cricket
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