‘I think you’re right. I’m not a small-town girl. I grew up in Jo’burg. I’ve lived in New York, in London. I’ve seen too much to pretend that this quiet little town is the dream. I’ve been on beaches people only see in magazines. I’ve walked runways and sat in first class and ordered room service at 2am just because.’
She looked down at the table.
‘So yeah, maybe I got emotional. I don’t know why it made me sad when you said it because you’re right. Maybe that’s what hit me … that I keep pretending I could stay here forever. But I don’t know if I want to.’
Neel didn’t say anything. He just sat there listening, cake untouched. For once, he wasn’t trying to fix it.
Kaavi yawned, rubbed her eyes, and dragged herself out of bed. Monday. Another week. Nothing on her calendar today except the growing weight of Neel’s looming departure. He’d said he was staying a month and it had been nearly four weeks since he’d arrived in Rally. Time was running out.
The workshops had gone better than anyone had expected. Anni was already dreaming bigger, talking about fundraising and planning more sessions. Kaavi was all in, or at least she wanted to be, but that unanswered email about Miami still sat in her inbox. Should she tell Anni she might not be around?
She didn’t want to think about any of it. Not Neel. Not Miami. Not the future. She was just grumpy. Woke up that way. Now everything felt heavier than it should, like the whole week was already pressing down on her.
Her phone rang. ‘Mom’ flashed on the screen.
‘Hi, Mom. What’s up?’
‘Hi, Kaavi. Just a low Monday,’ her mother said, mirroring Kaavi’s mood.
‘I know what you mean. I’m just grumpy.’
‘Me too.’
‘Why? What’s going on, Mom?’
‘I think I’m lonely,’ her mother said quietly. ‘I like the flat. I like where I’m staying now. There’s nothing I really miss from the old house. But I think I’m just a bit lonely.’
Kaavi’s first instinct was to tell her to come to Rally, but she held back. Her mother was still trying to find her footing as a widow, yes, but also as someone finally free. That made sense in a strange way. Still, Kaavi missed her. She missed her warmth and her steady voice. Even her arms around her. She didn’t want to tell her mother what to do, but God, she wished she could see her.
‘It’s okay, Mom. I think we’re both just learning how to live. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything, my sweet girl.’ Her mother’s voice was gentle. ‘What I really wanted to tell you is this: don’t hold back on celebrating or doing things just because your father died.’
Kaavi stayed quiet.
‘I know what tradition says and I know there’ll be people who think we should be quiet or whatever. But Kaavi, your father held us prisoner.’
She paused. ‘Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that or used that word.’
‘No, it’s okay, Mom. You didn’t mean it in a bad way,’ Kaavi said.
‘As long as I didn’t offend you or hurt you.’
‘Mom, it’s okay. Really.’
‘So, as I was saying,’ her mother continued, ‘you can celebrate things. Our family life hasn’t looked like everyone else’s, in our culture, our religion, and I just don’t want you thinking you have to sit things out.’
Kaavi rubbed her eyes again. ‘Mom, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Diwali is next week.’
‘What?’ Kaavi sat up straighter. ‘Diwali is next week?’
‘Yes, my sweet girl. And Granddad’s been begging me to come to Rally. I’m thinking about it. Maybe I’ll spend Diwali with all of you there. But I just wanted to say, you’re allowed to celebrate this important festival. Don’t hold back just because your father died.’
Neel was in his suite, logging off for the day when an email from the airline landed in his inbox. He opened it. A ticket to Johannesburg on Friday. He scrolled to the bottom. Booked by: Natara Naran. He called her immediately. She picked up on the first ring.
‘Hey Neel, what’s up?’
