The Shape of Family Read online

  Karina felt tears well in her eyes as Micah expressed gratitude for healthy food cooked with love, the fresh air outside, and spending a special day with people to whom he felt a deep connection. She was emotional because she felt it too. As she looked around the room at the mash-up of skin tones and cultures, for once she didn’t feel like an anomaly. She dared to believe that they saw something in her: a better version of herself that she could nurture into the light. Karina knew then, for the first time in as long as she could remember, perhaps the first time in her life, she was where she belonged.

  * * *

  The Sunday after Thanksgiving, Karina dressed up a bit for her shift at NatMark, in a new pair of flattering jeans, a thin gold chain at her neck, a touch of eyeliner and lip gloss. It was a slow day at the store and time crawled as she looked for Micah. She had practiced what she planned to say, but almost lost her nerve when she saw him, pushing an overflowing cart. “Wow. Leave something for the rest of us.” She grinned.

  Micah’s face broadened into a wide smile. “Our fridge is empty. We took our leftovers to the homeless shelter downtown Friday and served lunch to about two dozen people. Ericka had to go buy more pumpkin pie so we wouldn’t have an uprising.”

  Karina noticed they seemed to weave these good deeds into almost everything they did, as if it was part of their DNA. She took a deep breath. “Thanks for having me over, Micah. I really loved it.”

  “Well, everyone loved you, Karina,” he said. “I mean, really loved you. You fit right in. I think Ericka believes you’re her long-lost sister.” His eyes shone.

  Karina smiled, relieved that they felt the same way she did, and hoping Micah was included in that sentiment. “I’ve been thinking about your question, what I want from my life? I really believe in everything you’re doing at the Sanctuary, and . . . I want to be part of it.” She took another deep breath and exhaled. “I’d like to come join you . . . to live there.” She held her breath, waiting for the response that would mean everything, whether or not she could finally usher her life down the right path.

  Micah nodded slowly. “What about school? It’s pretty far from campus.”

  “I realized you were right,” Karina said. “The classroom isn’t the real world. I want to get out and make a real impact now. I want to do this.”

  Micah watched her speak and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. After what felt like an interminable time, he spoke. “I’ll have to talk with the others; we do everything by consensus. But personally, I’d love to have you join us.”

  28 | the olanders

  DECEMBER 2014

  By the second week in December, a stressful frenzy had descended on the UCSB campus with the imminent end of term. The library was suddenly full, every table occupied by anxious students. Karina went through the motions of going to class, studying for finals, working her shifts at NatMark and returning to her empty apartment, but her thoughts always drifted back to the Sanctuary and the life she envisioned there.

  Micah finally got back to her, two weeks after Thanksgiving. “We’re going to convert the theater upstairs to a bedroom for four people,” he said when he called. “Eventually, we’ll invite three more people to join us, but it was unanimous, Karina. You’re our first choice to move in. It’ll take us a couple weeks to get ready, so you can think about—”

  “I don’t need to. I already know.” Karina felt her whole body quivering. “I’m so excited. Thanks, Micah.”

  Everything was falling into alignment. In the past weeks, since the warning letter about her scholarship and Thanksgiving, the importance of college had receded further in her mind. The Sanctuary was a place where she could live amongst people she respected, who respected her. Whom she could trust, even if she drank too much tequila. Who didn’t promise love one moment, then take it away. Forget about doing analysis or reading policy statements or breeding plants in a lab or writing papers to save the earth. She could actually do it every day, as she lived.

  Karina informed her academic adviser that she would be taking the next semester off to earn money, an excuse he readily accepted. Her current term grades would put her on probation for her scholarship, but she would have a year to re-enroll and complete her graduation requirements. She gave her landlord notice she would be vacating and began packing up her belongings. She asked her manager at NatMark if she could work more shifts, feeding him the same story she’d told her academic adviser. She told Stephanie, Claire and a few other friends that she was studying abroad for the next semester, returning to Ecuador. She wanted to cut off ties completely, wanted them to stop calling and inviting her to do things.

  It was remarkably easy to pull all this off, because no one knew her very well at college, other than James. One of the appeals of leaving the bubble of the UCSB campus entirely, of traversing twenty miles and a world away to Rancho Paraiso, was that she would never have to see him or Yoga Girl again. It was easy, too, because Karina realized she was quite a good liar. She had become so practiced at holding back truths about herself, offering lies of omission. Telling her mother she and Prem had spent the entire time after school doing homework, but neglecting to mention that Prem did his in front of the TV while she got some privacy in her room. Telling the counselor she had no feelings about Prem she wanted to discuss. Telling the rest of the world, friends and neighbors and teachers and her father: Yes, she was fine. No, there was nothing they could do. Omission. Omission. Lie. Lie. Lies.

  So, now she could do it again one last time: tell a story people were willing to hear. And the people who should have known her best, Mom and Dad? To them, she would say nothing, at least not right now. They knew she was busy and couldn’t come home as often. As long as she maintained regular communication, they’d have no reason to suspect a thing. Once she was settled and happy in her new life, she could tell them more. Karina headed home for winter break, excited about what waited on the other side of it.

  * * *

  Keith’s nerves were rattled as he sat in his attorney’s office. Last week, the SEC had informed him it was investigating his sizable stock purchase of HyunCom, weeks before its acquisition by Machtel Industries was announced and the stock rose 30 percent. At first, Keith was inclined to cooperate with the investigation, despite his attorney’s advice that it might not be in his best interest. Keith didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, either at the time of the purchase or now. Although compliance was a little looser at Duncan Weiss, he’d had extensive training on securities fraud and insider trading laws at the beginning of his career. He knew the rules. You couldn’t trade on your own deals, or other deals at the office. But the Machtel-HyunCom deal wasn’t his. That’s what chafed him. Jeff Erstine hadn’t told him anything. Keith had bought the stock on a hunch; he was a good investor with strong intuition and market knowledge. It’s not like he made a rational calculation at the time; his emotions had gotten the better of him. But he still thought it was harmless, and small dollars too.

  However, when Carl, his attorney, explained the fact pattern as the SEC saw it, it painted a different story. Keith had exclusive access to Machtel’s office, an opportunity to spy on the company’s non-public activities. He had probed a former employee (as he’d expected, Rachel hadn’t lasted very long as the CEO’s second assistant and was now cooperating with the SEC) for more non-public information about the acquisition and traded on it a week later. Keith agreed to let Carl try to find out how strong the SEC’s case was, and if there was a settlement to be made.

  “It doesn’t look good, Keith.” Carl sat behind his imposing wooden desk. “Even if it wasn’t what you intended.”

  Keith shook his head. “But I’m a small fish. We’re talking less than a million. Surely, the SEC won’t go to the mat for a case like this.” It was a petty revenge bet, for god’s sake. “They must be willing to settle.” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

  “That’s my hope, Keith. But there’s no predicting when the SEC wants to make an
example out of someone. And the U.S. attorney is completely independent, so even if we settle the civil charges, there’s still the possibility of a criminal indictment—which could mean a trial, conviction, prison time.”

  Keith felt his vision blur, the leather-bound books lining the wall behind Carl swimming before his eyes, colors mixing. These were possibilities Keith couldn’t bear to consider, upending the man he believed himself to be. He had started investment banking in the era of Boesky and Milken, two men repeatedly held up as cautionary tales in his early years. That kind of thing would never happen at Morgan Stanley, he’d told Jaya, where the rules were hammered into them and abundant precautions put in place. He thought Jaya had been overcautious when she’d warned him against moving to Duncan Weiss years ago, and he’d since felt vindicated in his choice, in part because of how much he’d earned. But reward rarely came without risk, as he knew. Jaya’s absolute moral compass had always kept him away from the gray zone. Perhaps he’d gone adrift without her—another thing he’d lost, along with his wife and family, without even realizing it. Now, she seemed to operate in a different sphere, where the things that occupied him—the things that used to occupy them both—no longer figured into her life.

  Keith had to make all this SEC trouble go away, quietly. He tried to flush those other possibilities from his mind as he drove home to meet up with Karina, home for winter break. She’d been here all week, and it was one of the best visits they’d had. They went ice skating at the mall and drove over the Bay Bridge to see the city lights at night. He took her to the driving range a couple of times and gave her some pointers on her swing, which had deteriorated after not playing for so long. “You live in Santa Barbara,” he said. “How can you not make it onto the golf course once in a while? It’s right on your campus!”

  Karina explained she’d been busy with classes and a research project at the Botany Lab that might lead to publication, which would be great for her graduate school prospects. He bought her a thick GRE prep book and she seemed interested, flipping through it every day. She even had a few prospects for summer internships near campus. On her last night with him, they got pizza from their favorite spot and he poured himself a nice cabernet, as well as a touch in a second glass for Karina.

  “You seem really happy, honey,” he said. “I trust that young man’s treating you well?”

  Karina shook her head. “James and I broke up.”

  “Oh,” Keith said. “Well, this is the most . . . ,” he paused while he searched for the word, “. . . contented I’ve seen you in a long time.” He smiled at her, placed his hand over hers and squeezed.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Karina smiled back. “I am really happy.”

  “Good, you deserve it,” he said. “And I’m sure that James didn’t deserve you.” He winked at her. “Listen, before you go to your mother’s tomorrow, I want to give you a head’s up on something.”

  Karina sat back and took a sip of her wine, looking more like a woman than he was prepared for. Keith took a deep breath. “Your mother has been following a guru—one of those self-proclaimed holy men from India who travels the world giving lectures and attracting followers. Probably harmless,” he assured Karina when he saw her eyebrows rise in inquiry. Keith had been alarmed at first, when Jaya had mentioned the whole thing to him a few months ago, but he’d since noticed a positive change in her. She sounded calmer when they spoke, less anxious.

  “Seems legit, from what I’ve read,” Keith added. “She’s not giving him money, I don’t think, or not much. She went to his lecture when he passed through San Jose, and she listens to his CDs at home. It’s given her a bit of a community, actually, getting together with these other . . . devotees, I guess she calls them.” He exhaled heavily. “To each his own, I suppose. Anyway, just wanted you to know so you’re not taken by surprise.”

  * * *

  “His name is Guru Brahmananda.” Jaya proudly showed Karina his framed portrait, adorned with a fresh floral garland, in the mandir room.

  “He looks like Dev Uncle,” Karina responded.

  Jaya squinted at the portrait, trying to spot any resemblance to her brother. Other than graying hair and their approximate ages, she could see nothing in common. Did all older Indian men look the same to her daughter? It troubled Jaya that their families saw each other so infrequently, given the distance and schedules. Their children had only met twice before Prem had died; the cousins were little more than acquaintances with foreign accents. Jaya pushed aside that disturbing thought.

  “I wish you’d been here when he came through to give his lectures,” she said. “He is so wise. And the way he puts his ideas into words . . . It’s like poetry, so beautiful. I went for five days and never got bored or uncomfortable, even sitting cross-legged on the hard floor. There’s just something . . . peaceful about hearing him speak.” Jaya smiled broadly, remembering that first magical experience, which had since been replicated in four more cities to which she’d traveled to see the Guru speak. How could she explain it? His talks were so moving because he didn’t preach but used the power of personal stories to transform. “I have some CDs, if you want—”

  “Mom!” Karina said, peering closer at Jaya’s face. “What happened to your tooth?” She pointed to her own cheek.

  “Oh, that,” Jaya said, waving it off. “One of my molars was causing so much pain, the dentist took it out a few weeks ago.”

  “But . . . what?” Karina became very animated now, waving her arms around. “Took it out? Can’t you get it replaced? You can’t just walk around with a big hole in your mouth!”

  Jaya smiled, not understanding why Karina seemed so upset about such a little thing. She waved her concern away. “It doesn’t bother me, so who cares?” She would have liked to help her daughter see that those things she concerned herself with—branded clothes, expensive mascara, that blue lampshade for her new apartment—none of that mattered. But Jaya had learned that they were each on their own spiritual journey in this life, and she couldn’t push Karina to be receptive to her ideas any more than Keith could push Jaya. She had to meet Karina where she was, to find some common ground with her daughter as she grew older and further away.

  “Come,” Jaya said, taking Karina’s hand and walking her out of the mandir room. “Come see the box of tulip bulbs I got at Costco. Maybe we can plant them tomorrow.”

  * * *

  A few days later, Karina made an excuse to drive back to campus early to register for some new classes. She found it hard to believe that Mom once worked as a policy analyst, evaluating research studies and analyzing data; she seemed almost gullible now. It still struck a nerve, the feeling that her mom was indifferent to her, as if her parental concern was a finite resource that had been fully drained by Prem. But Karina had come to rely on her mother’s credulity; it facilitated Karina’s independence, so she did not question it.

  Karina arrived back in Santa Barbara the evening of December 30, which gave her the following day to clear out her apartment and move. She was circumspect in choosing what to bring. She stared for a long time at the bag in her bathroom vanity, where she still took pains to hide her supplies, though she lived alone. As she removed and considered each item—the razor blades, the cotton squares, the bandaging tape she’d graduated to due to the length of her cuts—she thought of the relief these things brought her. At first, she tucked the bag away in one of her cartons, then she removed it and walked it down to the incinerator chute before she could change her mind. Tomorrow was a new day, a new chapter. A new life.

  29 | prem

  The most beautiful place I ever saw was Hawaii, when we went there on vacation. Even though it touches the same ocean as California, it felt like another planet. The sand was soft like velvet under my feet but became as hard as clay when I mixed it with water. Kiki brought me pailfuls, because they were heavy and she was twice as old as me, as she always liked to tell people. It was the only time in our lives that would be true, when I was five, as I remin
ded everyone. Every day on the beach, I built an enormous sandcastle, and every night after we left, it was washed away. I didn’t mind; I built the castle bigger and better every day, with fortress walls, lookout towers, moats and drawbridges.

  While I built my castles on land, Kiki loved being in the ocean. She stayed in the water for hours and hours, floating on her back and looking up at the sky. When the water was the same temperature as the warm air, she said she felt amphibious (a word she’d just learned), moving comfortably between land and sea. On the long plane ride home, I drew a picture of Kiki as a mermaid with green scales and long flowing hair. Then, because it wasn’t quite right yet, I added a superhero cape. And that’s how I sometimes think of her even now, with a touch of magical powers.

  Grown-ups believe there’s a big difference between magic and the real world, but I’m not so sure. In the comics, the villain and the superhero are always clear, but in real life, it’s harder to tell. If you see yourself as the hero of your own story all the time, like Dad, sometimes you’re not even sure what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. It may seem impossible for the hero to act like a villain, but I’ve seen it happen more than you’d think.

  Sometimes, like Kiki, you’re not even sure what’s true anymore, and if you think about it long enough, you can convince yourself that something did or didn’t happen. Even if you believe in magic, like Mom, you might think that it’s possessed only by certain special people and that you need them to share it with you. But no one can really give you magic. Everyone knows you have to find it in yourself.