The Shape of Family Read online

  What Jaya sees when she looks at her daughter now is the fierce young girl at her core, the girl who fought for the runt of the litter, who loved her brother intensely, who has always forged ahead for what she wants, never seeming to need anyone else. But Karina needs her now. Her daughter is reaching a hand above the surface of the water, flailing for something to hang on to. And this time, Jaya will not let her fall.

  “Do you remember,” Jaya says, gently taking her hand, “when Prem was seven years old and woke up early to make us breakfast on his birthday?”

  Karina smiles, her brow wrinkling. “Didn’t something catch on fire?”

  Jaya nods. “The toaster oven. He put the butter on the bread first—you know how much he liked butter—so it dripped down and the whole thing went up in flames. Poor thing, he tried to reach in to save the toast and burned his hand.”

  “Dad was so angry.” Karina laughs. “He had to spray the extinguisher and that foam got all over the kitchen, the coffee maker.”

  “Yes, two appliances destroyed along with our breakfast.” Jaya smiles.

  Karina smiles. “I forgot about that.”

  A moment of silence passes between them. “I remember it every single day,” Jaya whispers. “At the time, it was a disaster. But now all I think of is the joy of a boy who loved life so much he couldn’t wait to celebrate his birthday.”

  Karina closes her eyes, remembering. “He said he wanted to do something to thank us for bringing him into the family.” A tear runs down her face, past her smile.

  “Pain is always there to serve a purpose,” Jaya says, “to teach us something, whether it’s to not reach into a hot oven or to not fall in love with the wrong person.” Karina looks up at her with startled eyes, but of course there’s love involved here. What else could cause such pain? “And once we’ve learned what we’re meant to learn,” Jaya continues, “we are better than before. The wounds will heal.” She lightly touches Karina’s arm. “And that pain inside will help you grow.”

  * * *

  Keith re-enters the room, confident about what to do next. “It’s too late to drive back, so I’ve booked us two hotel rooms for the night. We can get some sleep and a fresh start in the morning.” Jaya nods in agreement and looks at Karina, who simply stands up, shedding the gray blanket onto the chair.

  They stop at the first restaurant they come upon, a family-style spaghetti house where the music and merriment create an ironic backdrop to their mood. It is neither lunch nor dinner hour, and none of them are particularly hungry, but it seems like the right thing to do right now, to nourish their daughter. Keith and Jaya sit on either side of Karina in the half-moon booth and watch her pick unenthusiastically at oversized platters of fettuccine alfredo and Caesar salad.

  Keith chooses a blue crayon from a glass on the table and draws a large oval in the center of the paper lining the table. He nudges Karina with his elbow. She takes a green crayon and draws a squiggly line touching the oval with such disinterest, he feels worse than if she’d declined to play along. He tries again, delicately, to start a conversation about whatever has transpired over the past few months. “Honey, you know you can tell us anything.”

  But Karina doesn’t respond; she is a worn, watered-down version of herself. Jaya shoots him a warning look, and Keith is so spent himself, it’s easier to numb himself with another glass of bad Chianti. With the red crayon, he draws a flag protruding from the other end of the oval, hoping Karina will recognize the beginnings of a horse and add some legs. He pushes the crayons toward her, hopefully. Karina stares at the image for a few long moments, then covers her face with her hands, and her shoulders shake as she begins to cry. Jaya looks at him in alarm. Neither of them understands what has just happened.

  “I couldn’t save him,” Karina says, crying. “I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t save him.” Her words turn to sobs, then great big gulps of air as she gasps and chokes.

  Jaya wraps her arm around Karina’s shoulders. “Honey . . . we talked about this. You know Prem’s death wasn’t your fault. No one blames you.”

  Karina shakes her head violently, as if trying to rid her mind of something. Keith is frightened, watching her battle with herself. “August . . . ,” she whimpers. “I couldn’t save him.”

  Jaya flashes Keith a worried glance. “Who’s . . . August?”

  Keith feels the ground slipping out from under him as Karina begins to explain. A scuffle between friends, a fistfight, an accidental death. Then it all comes rushing out of her, an unstoppable stream of words. She admits to taking a leave from college to move into a house in Rancho Paraiso with a bunch of hippies. Keith has been to Rancho Paraiso a few times, with clients for golf outings or business dinners at the tucked-away French restaurant. It’s the kind of sleepy hamlet he could imagine retiring to, back when he thought about such conventional life stages. Apparently, his daughter has been living there all this time with a dozen other people, some sort of crazy commune.

  Karina tells them about the marijuana farm, and when Keith hears about the absence of a license, the intra-state shipping and the equipment purchases on his credit card, paid automatically by his assistant, his heart plummets. It is clear that Karina has been complicit in several criminal activities, and the argument can probably be made that she was, in fact, the leader of the operation. He has learned over the past year how lawyers can twist things to make people look guilty.

  The revelations accumulate until Keith realizes he doesn’t know his daughter at all. What he took to be a natural part of her growing into an adult was in fact a series of well-crafted lies and deliberate omissions, designed to keep him in the dark. How did his smart, responsible daughter fall into this kind of racket? This guy—Michael or Micah, whatever the hell his name is—Keith is going to make him pay. The thought of Karina associated with such an obvious charlatan, caught up in drug smuggling, IRS violations, property disputes, manslaughter—his entire body pulses with the desire for vengeance.

  They leave the restaurant and drive to the hotel in silence, Keith quietly fuming. Jaya goes upstairs to get Karina settled in bed while Keith says he’ll wait for her at the hotel bar. He paces the lobby as he dials his attorney’s number and waits for him to pick up. “Carl, thank god—”

  “I swear, Keith, you have a sixth sense,” Carl says.

  Keith is puzzled. “About what?”

  “The SEC. I assume that’s why you called?”

  “What? No. I . . . What? You heard?” Keith turns toward the wall and closes his eyes to brace himself. “Tell me.”

  “We’re lucky, Keith. They’re going to deal. You’ll have to pay a fine, a hefty one. Three times your gain is $2.5 million, but in exchange, they’re willing to forgo pursuing a conviction through the U.S. attorney.”

  “That’s . . . ah . . . that’s a big number. But I guess I can earn it back in a few years, right?” Keith turns away from the wall and runs his hand through his hair, filled with a strange relief. “Thank you, Carl. Thanks so much.”

  “It’s not all good news, Keith,” Carl says. There’s a long pause on the line. “You don’t have to admit fault, but you will be barred from the securities industry for five years.”

  “What?” Keith speaks in a near-whisper. “I . . . I can’t do that. There must be some other way.”

  “There isn’t.” Carl’s voice is firm. “I already talked them down from ten, which is standard for your case. This is a deal-breaker, Keith: it’s either the fine and five-year bar or a trial. And we’ve discussed why you can’t go to trial.”

  “Banking is all I know,” Keith protests weakly. “How . . .” His voice cracks a bit. “How am I going to provide for my family?”

  “You’ll figure it out. You’re a smart guy, Keith. This is a road bump, a big one, but you’ll get past it.”

  Keith closes his eyes. He can’t think about this now. He lets out a long breath and lowers his voice. “Carl, listen, the reason I called . . . I’m in Santa Barbara with my daughter
, and she’s in some trouble. I need the best criminal attorney you know down here.”

  * * *

  When Jaya enters the bar, she sees Keith sitting at a quiet corner table with two glasses in front of him. She recalls their family vacations when the kids were young: she and Keith would sneak out of the room for a nightcap after the kids went to bed, going as far as the baby monitor would allow, sometimes just a few feet down the hallway from their room.

  “How is she?” Keith asks, as she joins him.

  “Asleep. She’s exhausted.” Jaya picks up her glass for a sip. His is already half gone.

  “I can’t believe . . .” He shakes his head. “She seemed so happy in December. We were talking about graduate school, for god’s sake.” Keith is quiet for a moment. “When I think of what she’s been through.” He runs a hand through his hair. “How did I miss it—the signs, the lies?”

  Jaya surprises herself by reaching out and clasping his hand. “I missed it too. The important thing is where we go from here, what we do now.”

  “I spoke to an attorney,” Keith says. “He’s coming by here in the morning to discuss options, but I think we probably need to go back to the police.”

  Jaya nods, her shoulders beginning to relax. She rarely drinks these days, and two deep sips in, she is already feeling the effects of the smooth, expensive Scotch.

  “And,” he continues, cautiously, “that officer said she should see someone.”

  Jaya remembers the patchwork of angry red marks covering Karina’s forearm. “Yes,” she says. “A therapist. I think we should all go. I’ll make some calls tomorrow.”

  Keith exhales and a look of relief passes over his face. “Good. Thank you.”

  “She’s stronger than you know,” Jaya says. “She needs time to heal, but she’s a fighter and she’ll be fine.”

  “How do you have such faith?” Keith’s eyes glisten. “It usually drives me crazy when you do, but I have to admit . . .” His voice cracks. “Right now, I’m really desperate to believe everything will work out.”

  “It will,” Jaya says, squeezing his hand tighter. “We’ve already survived the worst possible thing.”

  * * *

  With no gong to rouse her the next morning, Karina sleeps late. When she wakes, she is alone in the room, and she goes down to the hotel restaurant to find her parents waiting for her, cups of coffee before them. They place their orders, including the full American breakfast of pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast and fruit for Karina, who is famished again after barely eating the night before, as if her body is vacillating between whether to nourish itself or not.

  “Karina.” Dad reaches across the table toward her. “You were right to tell us everything yesterday. You may not fully understand it, but you were mixed up with some pretty serious criminal activity at that place.”

  “The Sanctuary,” Karina reminds him. The way he refers to it makes it sound like nothing special, failing to grasp what drew her there in the first place, the vision she still believes in.

  “Yes, the Sanctuary,” he says, glancing over at her mother and nodding. “So, given your involvement in some of those activities, we spoke to an attorney this morning and got some advice.”

  We? Karina looks at Mom, who is nodding solemnly.

  “He advises going to the police and telling them everything you know—the cannabis operation, the fraudulent behavior with the landlord, the . . . death . . . of your friend.”

  “August,” Mom supplies.

  “Yes,” Dad says. “The attorney will go with us and try to secure some protections for you in exchange for your testimony.”

  Karina feels anxiety begin to rise. What will happen to her friends—Ericka, Zoe, Jasmine—if everything comes out? What will Micah do to them, to her?

  Mom reaches over and grabs her hand. “It’s going to be okay, darling.” The waitress interrupts to deliver their orders. The plate of food she places in front of Karina is grotesque in size and brings with it a fresh wave of nausea. Karina pushes the plate away as she tries to process what her parents are saying.

  “I know you’re scared, honey,” Dad says. “But you have to tell the police everything you know. You’ll probably have to come back and testify if there’s a trial.”

  Karina feels her body trembling. “What’s going to happen to my friends?” She sees her parents exchange a glance, silently deciding who will respond to her, a form of communication and alignment in them that she hasn’t seen since Before.

  “Darling,” Mom says, leaning forward and grasping Karina’s hand in both of her own. “You love your friends, yes?”

  Karina nods back. She digs the fingernails of her free hand into her thigh, but the sharp pain cannot distract her.

  “And aren’t you worried about what might happen to them there?”

  Karina hears the crack of August’s head against the stable wall and sees his lifeless body. Tears begin to drip down her face, and she wipes at them with her sleeve.

  Mom leans closer, steel in her eyes. “I know you couldn’t save August,” she says, “but you can save your friends now.”

  Karina feels Mom’s strength electrifying the air between them. Dad’s eyes are glistening as he nods silently across the table. She thinks of what can’t be undone and tries to summon the courage to do what she knows she must. When she finally finds the voice to speak, it is barely above a whisper. “I can save them now.”

  49 | the olanders

  MAY 2016

  Jaya brushes the hair out of her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. She and Karina are planting the two new raised beds Keith installed in the backyard. They had to tear out some grass to make space for these—some of the new turf they installed years ago, in fact, where the swimming pool used to be. Karina came up with the idea of intermingling flowers, herbs, vegetables and berry bushes all together in these beds, a more naturalistic design that should increase yields. Jaya has not gardened in years, having relinquished the planting to the weekly landscaper. When she did garden, she arranged all her plants in separate, tidy rows. She’s never seen the type of garden Karina has designed, but she is excited about its potential. The lady at the nursery agreed the diversity of pollen would attract lots of honeybees and butterflies.

  A hummingbird vibrates close to Jaya and she watches it for a moment: its head improbably larger than its body, its wings buzzing so rapidly they are a blur. The bird migrates over to where Karina is tilling the new soil and mixing it with nutrients. Jaya watches her daughter stop and observe the miraculous creature for a long moment before she returns to her task. Every morning, Karina comes out here on her own. Jaya often finds her meditating on the wooden bench they installed. She sometimes joins Karina, silently reciting her prayers or simply recounting her gratitude for having her daughter home safe. Then they get to work, sometimes on the same tasks, other times near each other but separate.

  Jaya has been relearning what it is to be a parent this past year. When her children were younger, it was about the basic tasks: feeding them, clothing them, ensuring they had a good education and dental checkups. Keeping them safe from harm. When she couldn’t ensure that most elemental duty with Prem, the rest of it tumbled down like a sandcastle. Jaya’s subsequent search for inner peace felt essential to her survival at the time, but she now realizes it came at a price. She did not teach her daughter how to develop confidence, rather than insecurity, in what makes her unique. Show her how to fortify her heart against life’s inevitable disappointments and betrayals. Help her cultivate an instinct for people. Jaya could blame herself indefinitely for these failings, but it wouldn’t remedy anything now.

  One important thing she and Keith did manage to instill in their daughter was a core of strength. Only a strong person would be able to endure everything they’ve learned Karina has endured—the terrible things that happened to her, those she did to herself, and the ones she’s been carrying in her mind. Now, when Karina feels the desire to inflict pain on herself, she talks a
bout it with one of them: Jaya, Keith, her friends or the therapist. And now, Jaya is equipped to support her daughter. She has been given another chance to be the mother Karina needs at this crossroads.

  Life is wondrous that way. It has been a test of Jaya’s spiritual beliefs to integrate them with the world she and Keith must help their daughter navigate. It is possible, though not easy, to balance the challenges of a worldly life with divine truth. Sometimes her mind alights on how things might have been different, for Karina, or in Jaya’s relationship with Keith, had she attained this equilibrium earlier in life. But she cannot serve her daughter now by dwelling in the past. It is enough to know that, together, they have now closed the chapter of their family crisis that began with the loss of one child and ends with the healing of another.

  “Hey, Ginger.” Jaya bends down to pet their newest family member, a golden-brown beagle mix, who bounds off to dig for some unknown treasure in the corner of the yard. Jaya smiles as she sees the hummingbird return to Karina, perching on the flowering branch near her. Karina holds out a finger, encouraging the small creature to land on it. Jaya sees Prem everywhere these days, especially in his sister.

  * * *

  Through the kitchen window, Keith watches Karina and Jaya as they work in the backyard. He feels an unfamiliar pride every time he looks at those raised beds, constructed from six-foot-long solid cedar beams, completely parallel and level, with netting in the bottom to keep out the pests. They are the first things he’s ever built completely with his own hands, and they give him a strange sense of accomplishment. He has already begun his next project: a dog house for Ginger—more of a canine cabana—which his father, who insisted on housing their dogs in the garage, would think ridiculous.