Free The Weight of Heaven by Thrity Umrigar Page A

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