Serene's lips pursed. She wanted to toss her chocolate to the ground, get up and walk away. What did Erica know about what she needed? Erica knew Dora, sure, but Serene wasn't Dora. Didn't she matter anymore? Or was she just going to be forced to be Dora, whether she wanted to be or not?
"Look, I know this is all very difficult and disconcerting for you," Erica said.
Serene's temper subsided and she recalled what Claudia had suggested. "My therapist said it might be a good idea to go through memorabilia and old pictures to help jog my memories."
Erica looked hopeful. "I'll be happy to help you with that. In the closet, you have several boxes of old photos and letters."
Serene nodded.
"I know our relationship is scary for you, Serene, but I want you to know how deeply I care for you. And I'll wait. I'll wait until your memories come back." Erica's eyes moistened with emotion. Suddenly, Serene could see the young girl Erica once was, following her around, eyes full of that devoted expression she'd always worn. Serene felt ashamed and a stab of remorse for this woman, or however Erica saw themself now. It wasn't Erica's fault that Dora had seduced and married them, made a life with them and then vanished without a word, without even a look back at what she'd left in her wake. Serene reached out her hand and Erica swallowed, opening their own hand to receive hers. It was the first time Serene had voluntarily touched her spouse since those first moments Erica found her wide-eyed, baffled and utterly frightened in the hospital six weeks ago.
When they returned to the house, Erica retrieved a cardboard box from the bedroom closet that held old letters and photos.
“You might want to start with this,” they said.
Serene’s eyes immediately fell to the letter resting at the top of the pile. She recognized the penmanship. Aarav. In it, Aarav professed his love as a father to her, how proud she’d made him. Serene didn't notice the tears until they spilled onto the old paper, blurring the ink, prompting her to set the letter aside and dab the moisture off with her shirt. She and Aarav had always had a hard time seeing eye-to-eye, but Darpan coming into their life had prompted a shaky alliance between them. It was Aarav who stepped in to help her in those first days following Taylor's murder, after Ramani turned her back, leaving Serene to fend for herself legally.
When did he give her this letter? She wondered. One of her last memories of Aarav was at that pitiful get together that Ramani had orchestrated, a final stab at trying to persuade him to come back.
Serene closed her eyes. She could see her stepdad meditating, or quietly drinking his herbal tea while New Age music undulated the airwaves of his tiny little apartment.
Aarav's narrow face and tidy pointy beard, Cedar's picture on his altar, next to Paramahansa Yogananda.
Serene took a shaky breath and folded the letter back over the well-worn creases.
45
Serene - July 1996
“Hey,” Ramani called out and waved to Serene and Aarav. She sat three tables back from the karaoke stage, beneath the subdued lighting in the little restaurant. A medium-size vegetarian pizza was already waiting for them, one piece missing and consumed, a smear of grease left on Ramani's plate. She held a bottle of ginger ale and took a sip, smiling up at them.
“What do you want to drink?” She asked. Her face was fuller and softer than usual, aglow with pregnancy hormones and hope that came from Aarav being there. Serene had managed to talk him around to coming and seeing her mother. Ramani's lips were glossy with pizza grease or lipgloss, Serene wasn't sure which, and she was wearing blue eyeshadow, which looked nice. Her thinnish curly hair had thickened and grown fully to her shoulders. Ramani looked sexy. She had a kind of Mediterranean sultriness thing going in her white knit dress that hugged her curves and showed off her new voluptuous cleavage and belly bump. Usually Ramani was in baggy overalls, which hid her growing belly.
“What are you having?” Aarav squinted at the bottle in her hand.
“Ginger ale.”
“I'll have one of those,” he said, taking his seat, his eyes lingering on her. She grinned at him and called over the waiter. “Another ginger ale, and what are you having, sweetie?” She asked Serene.
“Coke?”
Serene waited for Ramani to make a face, but her mother only added generously, “and a coke.”
The waiter went off for their drinks and they watched a youngish man ascend the stage. He looked nervous as he picked up the microphone and said he was going to sing “Call Me” by Blondie. There was some tittering.
“Dude!” Someone yelled from the back, and the man's face turned crimson. But when he began to sing, Serene was surprised at how well he did. At the end of the song, he received a standing ovation and whistles of appreciation. Ramani laughed when she clapped, joy and nervousness bouncing off her features. Aarav chewed his pizza quietly and asked Ramani how Darpan was.
“You know,” she said and waved her hand like she didn't want to talk about him tonight. Tonight was about them. Their drinks arrived and Serene slugged down her ice cold coke from the frosty glass, the ice knocking painfully against her teeth. Two more people got up to sing. Between sets, Ramani talked quickly, updating Aarav on the baby growing inside her.
“Another boy,” she said, her eyes jumping. Aarav gave a barely perceptible nod and wiped his mouth with his napkin. The other two singers were terrible. When they finished, the waiter approached their table and told Ramani she was up. Her eyes darted over to Aarav, a spark of fear in them, but she lifted her chin and collected herself, climbing like a queen onto the stage.
“I'll
