Page 7 of Adrift

Rani takes off her helmet–using both hands but wincing a little–letting her long, dark curly hair loose before turning her flushed face toward me again. “Is this your school? Is this the school you and Sonia started? I can’t believe I didn’t know that.” She regards the currents before looking back at me incredulously, as if it’s somehow my fault she wasn’t informed until now. “But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised . . .. It’s not like I knew much about my sister.”

Not knowing how to respond, I point at her wrist. “That seems to be swelling. Let’s get you inside. I’ll need to come back to finish up with the class.”

I help her up, holding her other hand but she seems to be intent on finishing her thought. “I thought you owned a ski school? That’s what your mom told us.” I leave our kayaks where they are and turn to answer her when she continues. Jesus. Is there something in the fucking Tahoe air that makes women talk non-stop? “And why did Felix call you ‘King’? Do you rule over them or something? It seems a little on-the-nose and arrogant, don’t you think? Just saying.”

I look over my shoulder at Rani, walking slowly so she can keep up. Her hand is still latched onto my arm like a metal forcep and my blood circulation to the area has dwindled considerably. The corner of my mouth tips up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she can’t tell. The muscles used to pull my mouth into a smile have atrophied over the past year from lack of use. Still, something about this woman’s dramatics, her youth, and innocence has me teasing her back. “Are you done?”

“No, I was just getting started,” she mumbles. “I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

The last and only time I met Sonia’s sister was a little over a year ago, at Sonia’s funeral. And while we both exchanged condolences somberly, there wasn’t much of a conversation to be had. Her parents made sure of that by pulling their younger daughter out of the funeral home as soon as it was finished. They didn’t even stop to say three words to me.

It served me just fine, too. I had no desire to start a relationship with them where there hadn’t been one in ten years. But my mother saw it differently. Her Armenian heritage refused to let a chance to build a familial connection go.

She exchanged numbers with Rani and has been in touch with her ever since. I know that because my mom drives to the East Bay with my son so Sonia’s family can see him at least once a month.

And as much as I want to object as a way of extolling vengeance on them for their disapproval of me and Sonia by keeping my son from them, I can’t.

I won’t.

Fuck them for their hatred toward me–blaming me for taking their daughter away all these years ago. Fuck them for not giving her the love she deserved. Was it selfish of us to have done what we did–marry without their approval and blessing? Yes. But you’d think they’d absolve us of the crime after ten years.

Even on that day–and for months after–when I was mourning my dead wife, I knew I wasn’t going to do what they did to us. I wasn’t going to stoop to their level. They’d foregone a relationship with their daughter over the years because of their pride, but I wasn’t going to do the same to them with my son. If they wanted to be in his life, then they could be–I just wasn’t going to go out of my way to make it happen.

Apparently, my mom was okay with taking on the task.

We make it to the building, and I decide to answer Rani’s question. “Sonia and I started an all-weather school and decided to run skiing instruction over the winter and kayaking during the summer. And as much as it’ll surprise you, the reason they call me ‘King’ isn’t because of my ego–”

“Oh, that does surprise me,” she interjects, smiling, and I find my mouth quirking back up again at her snark.

“It’s because my name means king or kingly.”

She pulls my arm abruptly right as we enter the building, her mouth hanging open again. “Your name means king?” Her huge brown eyes roam over my face in disbelief as if I’ve just told her I’m the reincarnation of Albert Einstein. “That’s crazy! My name in Hindi means queen!”

And for the second time since meeting her today, I’m left speechless.

Chapter Three

Rani

I look around Darian’s small office. There’s a light blue wall covered with pictures of different sizes in the same black frame, arranged in a perfectly haphazard, yet aesthetically pleasing, way. On the opposite wall is a large corkboard with calendars, flyers, and various other items pinned to it. A large poster of a skier wearing a red jacket and full ski helmet and goggles is mounted on the same wall. The dark curls under his helmet indicate it may even be a picture of Darian himself. He’s mid-air, with his ski-poles tucked behind him, focused on landing in the blanket of snow below.

My gaze travels to the nice mahogany desk in the center of the room with a laptop and some papers strewn upon it. It’s in front of a massive window overlooking the river. The sounds of nature outside–the rapidly flowing river, along with the discordant calls of various birds–flood the room with white noise. And even though it isn’t incredibly spacious, it’s cozy and serene.

A couple of frames on one corner of the desk catch my attention. Pictures of Darian and my sister, and one of him with his lips pressed against my nephew’s temple. My heart picks up as I put my ice pack on the chair beside me and stroll over to take a better look.

I lift the one of Darian and my sister. Aside from a random picture she sent me a few years ago of her skiing on some mountain and a snapshot of her pregnant belly last year, it’s the first glimpse I’ve had of my sister’s life in over ten years. She appears happy in Darian’s arms, crinkles creasing the corners of her eyes as she looks at his face, smiling from ear to ear. He’s facing the camera, smiling as well, but he seems so much younger than the man I met just a few hours ago.

Maybe it’s the camera work but in this picture, I don’t see the dark circles under his eyes or the sag in his shoulders. I don’t see the weight of anything but his wife’s arms around his waist. He looks content.

Free.

God, I can’t believe I was checking out my brother-in-law in the damn lobby earlier. I definitely stared at his ass longer than anyone would consider appropriate. And then I babbled and blushed like a tween at a Harry Styles concert when I saw him face-to-face. What the hell was I even going on about?

My face heats as I put the frame back on his desk and walk back to my chair to wait for my cousin and best friend to get back. What must Darian think of me? It was like I had no filter–telling him about my wish to work in God’s masterpiece department. The fuck? And then I called him arrogant! I palm my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought. He must think I belong in a loony bin.

I probably do.

I think it was all too much at that moment. I’d just rolled over on my kayak in fast-moving, icy-cold currents. I was truly thinking I was going to drown, and my heart was racing like a prized horse in the Kentucky Derby. Thank God I had enough wherewithal to finally get my shit together and pull the damn skirt on the kayak and get myself loose. But as soon as I came up for air, I was met by my hot-as-motherfucking-sin brother-in-law standing in front of me like a Roman guard, all wide-eyed and muscular.

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