Free The Story Hour by Thrity Umrigar Page A

She would soon be releasing her to the same shitty little life that had made her have the affair in the first place.
    She forced herself to speak. “Did he—did this man love you back?” she asked. And knew immediately from Lakshmi’s shocked expression that she had made a mistake. At least it had stopped Lakshmi’s sobbing.
    â€œNo, madam. I told you. I married woman. I’s from good family. I never tell Bobby. I just sad because he leaf for the California.” The sobbing had ceased, but Lakshmi was looking at her with a wounded expression that made Maggie’s toes curl with mortification. What the hell is the matter with you? she scolded herself. Imagining that an immigrant Indian woman would blithely have an affair? Just because you are an adulteress doesn’t mean that everyone else is. She caught herself. Adulteress? Where the hell did that archaic word come from? Was that how she saw herself? And why was she projecting her guilt about Peter onto her client? How lame was that?
    â€œHe moved to California?” Maggie said. “Forever?”
    For a moment she thought the awful sobbing was going to start up again, but Lakshmi merely nodded wordlessly. Above them, the trees rustled and the sun filtered in through the thick leaves.
    â€œAnd that’s why you—? Over a customer?”
    Lakshmi nodded again, completely missing the irony. And, Maggie thought, there is no irony, dammit. The fact is that this woman is so completely isolated, so bereft, that the departure of a man she was fond of was enough to make her try to take her own life. A cold wind blew through Maggie at the thought. It was unimaginable, that degree of loneliness, of loss. A protective feeling came over her as she watched the sallow face that was gazing at her with such hunger, ready to accept her condemnation, hoping to gain her understanding.
    Maggie was about to suggest that they head back to the hospital when she decided to take a calculated risk. “What did you lov—like—about Bobby?” she asked, knowing that she was pushing open another door that they would walk through, knowing that she was continuing her association with Lakshmi, that their relationship would not end after her discharge.
    Lakshmi smiled with her eyes. “He so kind, madam,” she said. “He never say I stupid, even when I forgets to bring his Pepsi. He never looks at me with naked eyes, the way the other men customers do.” Her voice lowered. “And he look like . . .” She cast her eyes around the spot where they were standing. “His eyes blue like this sky and his hairs color of gold. And his mouth smiling, smiling all the time.”
    Despite the sadness she felt at Lakshmi’s situation, Maggie was amused. So Lakshmi had gone and fallen for a blond, blue-eyed white boy who was moving to California. He was probably a surfer dude. A picture of Peter sitting naked in bed rose in her mind, but she pushed it away. She was not going to compare her affair with Peter to Lakshmi’s silent crush on Bobby. Her life was light-years removed from Lakshmi’s barren, desolate life. Her marriage to Sudhir couldn’t even be compared to Lakshmi’s joyless marriage to that horrible man. And yet there it was—that pull, that connection. She had felt it from the moment she had entered Lakshmi’s room.
    She gently took hold of the younger woman’s elbow and steered her in the direction of the hospital. They really needed to turn back. As they walked, she casually asked, “You said Bobby never called you stupid. Does your husband call you that?”
    Lakshmi looked at her quickly and then looked away. “Yes, madam,” she mumbled. “It his pet name for me.”
    Maggie felt a rush of anger. “Then you should stop answering to it,” she said. “Until he talks to you nice.” Lakshmi said something that Maggie didn’t hear. “What? I