Page 49 of Tiger's Dream
She nodded. “You will give good counsel. For you are a man as blunt and as braying as all the others. Surely you’ll be able to help me tell these women what a man really wants.”
“Hold on a second,” I said, irritation making me forget she didn’t like to be grabbed. I took hold of her elbow and spun her around. “Did you say blunt and braying? I don’t bray.”
“Of course you do. Granted, you’re not as demanding as some, but you bray and bemoan your fate just as loudly as any.”
Just like that, I forgot my recent adoration of the warrior-goddess and my fascination with her lips as I was reminded of all the reasons I left her alone all the time. Chief among them was her mouth. If anyone was blunt, it was Anamika.
“Demanding?” I half shouted so as not to draw attention to us in public. My voice squeaked in a humiliating sort of way.
I was about to light into her, knowing a verbal spat would follow, when her eyes widened as she spotted something behind us. She yanked me into the darkness of the alley and hissed when I opened my mouth, cupping her hand over it. “It’s Kelsey!” she said, her voice barely audible as she moved her hand away. She’d brushed it over the stubble of my cheek, and the tingle that resulted made all coherent thoughts fall from my mind.
“What?” I whispered back.
“Kelsey!” she mouthed, then took hold of my chin and turned my head. Sure enough, I heard a voice I recognized, and across the street I spotted Kelsey and Kadam at a little restaurant. They were seated outside. Both of them sipping ice water with lemons as they perused their menus.
“I thought you said they were on the ship!” Ana breathily whispered in my ear.
“No. I saidIwas on the ship. They must have come ashore.”
My eyes were riveted on the table across the street. Kelsey’s shoulders were hunched and Kadam was patting her arm. I realized with a start that this was right after Ren had broken up with her. This was the moment she stopped being Ren’s Kelsey and became mine. Mybilauta.
“Well?” I heard Ana say, a clipped tone to her voice.
“Well, what?”
“Are you coming with me or are you going to sit here and wallow for a while?”
“I don’t wallow, Ana.” She gave me an all-too-knowing look. I winced and nodded that we should continue, but stood immobile, staring at Kelsey, knowing each tear she shed was bringing her closer to me. It was the old me, but still.
Ana suddenly shoved past me brusquely and walked down the alley with a stiff back, not even bothering to look back to see if I was coming. “Ana,” I said again. “Wait.” I quickly caught up but her expression was closed off and distant. I touched her shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong?” She didn’t respond and pointedly ignored my outstretched hand, refusing to show any sign of softening.
We ducked down another alley that smelled of old refuse and things best left uncovered and made our way toward a temple. It wasn’t the big temple that the past me would be going to later that night to meet the goddess Durga, or Ana. The idea that we’d really been meeting with the woman at my side was something I still couldn’t wrap my head around.
The temple grounds were packed with people. It was an outdoor type with a pavilion and stone benches. Supplicants wandered up to the statue of the goddess and left offerings at her feet. Others sat quietly, eyes closed, their lips twitching softly as they whispered their secrets to the universe.
I found an empty bench and guided her toward it. She sat down; her mind was quickly distracted from her recent disapproval with me. As her eyes looked from one person to another, her mouth parted and she cocked her head, listening. I sat next to her, waiting, and dug my heel into the dirt. Leaning over, I examined the divot I’d made. Lowering my brows, I deliberately pushed the dirt around until the print vaguely resembled my pugmark. Then I scratched it out and glanced up again. I was shocked to see Ana crying.
Her expression was bleak. “That one.” She pointed. “The woman there. She lost the one she loves. The one on that bench asks me to help the man she married love her. That one, kneeling by the statue, is to be wed next week and she has never met her groom. She asks not for love but kindness. Some of them are young and just wish for a handsome man or a rich man. Others want a deep, abiding love.” After a pause, she asked, “How can I answer these women?”
Ana’s shoulders shook, and I wanted to wipe the tears from her face, but it felt too intimate a gesture. Instead, I patted her back gently and rubbed little circles with my thumbs, kneading her shoulder blades. It seemed to help. She relaxed and sat back. The scarf had slipped down her back, revealing her glorious hair. I tried to shift it up but she slapped lightly at my hands and I gave up.
“Tell me how to help them,” she insisted, turning to me. Her green eyes bored into mine, and for a half a second, I was lost in them. Two men passed by our bench and gave her appreciative looks. Ana didn’t even see them. I furrowed my brows, feeling a growl tickle the back of my throat. Purposefully, I stretched out my arms across the bench and followed their gazes with my eyes until they caught my pointed stare.
When they quickly moved on, I saw she was wrapped up in the prayers she heard once more, her eyes glazed over. Ana’s hair tickled my wrist and I captured a loose section with my fingertips. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Hmm,” I said as I played with her hair. “Let’s take care of the easy ones first, shall we? I would suggest that the young girls who want a rich or a handsome man don’t really need help. You don’t need wealth or good looks to be happy.”
“I would agree with that,” she said, eager to discuss our options.
“As for the one whose husband doesn’t appreciate her, perhaps if she is removed from his side for a time, he will come to realize what he has.”
Ana blinked. “You wish me to send her away?”
“Perhaps on an extended vacation or a work trip?” I suggested.
Waving her fingers, Ana murmured a few words and then she said, “It is done. There are several women in the same situation. I have helped them all.”
“How?” I asked.
