Page 2 of Tiger's Quest
“Home? What do you mean? Aren’t we going to my foster parents’ house?” I asked, even more confused than I already was.
Nilima smiled understandingly. She told me gently, “No. This is your house.”
“My house? What are you talking about? I live in Dallas. Who lives here?”
“You do. Come inside and I’ll explain.”
We walked through a laundry room into the kitchen, which was small but had lemon-yellow curtains, brand new stainless-steel appliances, and walls decorated with lemon stencils. Nilima grabbed a couple of bottles of diet cola from the fridge.
I plopped my backpack down and said, “Okay, Nilima, now tell me what’s going on.”
She ignored my question. Instead, she offered me a soda, which I declined, and then told me to follow her.
Sighing, I slipped off my tennis shoes so I wouldn’t mess up the duplex’s plush carpeting and followed her to the small but cute living room. We sat on a beautiful chestnut leather sofa. A tall library cabinet full of classic hardbound books that probably cost a fortune beckoned invitingly from the corner, while a sunny window and a large, flat-screen television mounted above a polished cabinet also vied for my attention.
Nilima began rifling through papers left on a coffee table.
“Kelsey,” she began. “This house is yours. It’s part of the payment for your work in India this summer.”
“It’s not like I was really working, Nilima.”
“What you did was the most vital work of all. You accomplished much more than any of us even hoped. We all owe you a great debt, and this is a small way to reward your efforts. You’ve overcome tremendous obstacles and almost lost your life. We are all very grateful.”
Embarrassed, I teased, “Well, now that you put it that way—wait! You said this house ispartof my payment? You mean there’s more?”
With a nod of her head, Nilima said, “Yes.”
“No. I really can’t accept this gift. An entire house is way too much—never mind anything else. It’s much more than we agreed on. I just wanted some money to pay for books for school. He shouldn’t do this.”
“Kelsey, he insisted.”
“Well, he will have to un-insist. This is too much, Nilima.Really.”
She sighed and looked at my face, which was set with steely determination. “He really wants you to have it, Kelsey. It will make him happy.”
“Well, it’s impractical! How does he expect me to catch the bus to school from here? I plan to enroll in college now that I’m back home, and this location isn’t exactly close to any bus routes.”
Nilima gave me a puzzled expression. “What do you mean catch the bus? I guess if you really want to ride the bus, you could drive down to the bus station.”
“Drive down to the bus station? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well,youaren’t making any sense. Why don’t you just drive your car to school?”
“My car? What car?”
“The one in the garage, of course.”
“The one in the. . . .Oh, no. You havegotto be kidding me!”
“No. I’m not kidding. The Porsche is for you.”
“Oh, no, it’s not!Do you know how much that car costs? No way!”
I pulled out my cell phone and searched for Mr. Kadam’s phone number. Right before I pressed SEND, I thought of something that stopped me in my tracks. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Nilima winced. “Well . . . he also took the liberty of signing you up at Western Oregon University. Your classes and books have already been paid for. Your books are on the counter next to your list of classes, a Western Wolf sweatshirt, and a map of the campus.”
“He signed me up for WOU?” I asked, incredulous. “I’d been planning on attending the local community college and working—not attending WOU.”
