The Lowland

with brown paper bags, he saw Holly.
    Bela was still clinging to the back of the cart, facing him. It was a cold autumn day, the sky bright, the wind off the ocean strong.
    For so many years he had been careful to avoid places where he might run into her, no longer visiting the salt pond that was closest to her house, making sure her car was not parked at the beach where they’d first met.
    But now he saw her, in a place he came every week without fail. She was accompanied not by Joshua but by a man. He had his arm around Holly’s waist.
    The man was her husband, the same face in the photograph in Joshua’s room. Older now, his hairline receding, going gray.
    She appeared relaxed with this man who had once forsaken her, who had betrayed her. She was unaware of Subhash. He heard her laughter as they crossed the parking lot, and saw her tossing back her head. He’d been in his twenties when he knew her. She would be over forty now; Joshua would be fourteen, old enough to stay at home by himself while his mother and father went shopping.
    The years between them hadn’t mattered to Subhash. But he wondered if she’d broken it off because of this; because he’d been immature, in no position to replace the man now once more at her side.
    They began walking together toward the supermarket, Holly slowing down, seeing him, waving now in recognition, still approaching. Her blond hair was cut differently, in layers around her face. Wearing clogs, flared trousers, a cowl-necked sweater, clothing for colder weather. Otherwise she was unchanged.
    What are you looking at, Baba?
    Nothing.
    Let’s go, then.
    He was unable to move forward. And it was too late to avoid her now.
    Bela stepped off the back of the cart and stood next to him. He felt her leaning against his hip. He smoothed her hair, and sought the warmth at the base of her throat. Her face was still small enough for him to cup most of it in his hand.
    Subhash, Holly said. You have a little girl.
    Yes.
    I had no idea. This is Keith.
    This is Bela.
    They shook hands. Subhash wondered if Keith knew about the time he and Holly had spent together. Holly was taking Bela in, admiring her.
    How long have you been married?
    About five years.
    You decided to stay here, after all.
    I did. Joshua is well?
    Up to here on me, she said, indicating his height with her hand.
    She reached out, touching his arm for an instant. She looked genuinely pleased to see him, to have met Bela. He remembered how much she’d loved listening to him talk about his childhood, about Calcutta. What had she remembered? He’d never told her that Udayan was dead.
    Good to run into you, Subhash. Take care.
    Though jealousy should not have flared, he felt its hold as they walked past him, as he pushed the cart loaded with groceries toward his car. He saw that it had not simply been for Joshua that she’d forgiven her husband. That they loved one another still.
    Subhash and Gauri shared a bed at night, they had a child in common. Almost five years ago they had begun their journey as husband and wife, but he was still waiting to arrive somewhere with her. A place where he would no longer question the result of what they’d done.
    She never expressed any unhappiness, she did not complain. But the smiling, carefree girl in the photograph Udayan had sent, that had been Subhash’s first impression of her, that he had also hoped to draw out—that part of her he’d never seen.
    And another thing was missing, something that troubled him even more to admit. He hated thinking about it. He hated remembering the terrible prediction his mother had made.
    But somehow his mother had known. For the tenderness Subhash felt for Bela, that was impossible for him to ration or restrict, was not the same on Gauri’s end.
    Though she cared for Bela capably, though she kept her clean and combed and fed, she seemed distracted. Rarely did Subhash see her smiling when she looked into Bela’s face. Rarely did he see Gauri kissing Bela spontaneously. Instead, from the beginning, it was as if she’d reversed their roles, as if Bela were a relative’s child and not her own.
    On the beach with Bela, he was aware of families who traveled to Rhode Island to reinforce their closeness. For so many it seemed a sacred rite.
    Subhash and Gauri had never gone on vacation together, with Bela. Subhash had never suggested it, perhaps because he knew that the idea wouldn’t