As Neela signed her name to the letter, she heard a car pull up. She check her watch, it was a quarter to three. It had taken her nearly two hours to write the letter. But every word was now imprinted on her memory. It helped crystallise and clarify so much and for the first time in ages she felt a sense of relief. That awful guilt, she thought so many times she was rid of, was finally fading. The priest had given her permission to be angry with Michael and to be brutally honest about the true state of her marriage.
She had hoped to write a letter to Ray too but she had run out of time. She found however there was nothing in the letter to Michael she could not share with Ray. So instead she decided to give Ray the letter to read. It would be easier than talking. Afterwards they could talk.
With that she stood up and went to the bathroom to freshen up. She checked her reflection in the mirror and put on some foundation and lip gloss. She decided to change her top. Then she spritzed some perfume and brushed her hair. She smiled at herself in the mirror and then headed downstairs to meet Ray's sister and children.
As she came into the kitchen, she could hear them outside on the porch. She opened the screen door and everybody turned.
"Jenny," Ray senior said, "this is Neela."
"Hello Neela, I'm very pleased to meet you at long last," she reached out to shake her hand. "Neela these are my two boys. Boys introduce yourselves."
"Hi. I'm James and this is William. I'm nine and he's seven."
"Hello boys, I'm very pleased to meet you."
She looked around and noticed Ray was not there yet.
"Where's Uncle Ray?" William asked.
"He's lying down sweetheart," Jaycee replied.
"Is everything OK?" Jenny asked.
"I thought I told you, he's got Lyme's disease."
"What? That sound serious."
Neela interrupted. "Its not really, they've caught it on time so he should be OK."
"Yeah. The only problem is the bite was on my left stump so I'm wheelchair bound for a few days until I get the all clear." said Ray as he rolled up to join them.
"Hello little brother, how are you?"
Jenny stood up to hug her brother.
"Less of the little, sis."
"Face it Ray, you'll always be my baby brother."
"Uncle Ray."
"Yes William"
"Will you give me a ride in your wheelchair?"
"Sure buddy. Hop up!"
With that Ray took off down the garden path doing wheelies with William on his knee. Neela smiled as she saw them and remembered Ray's attempt at levity when she went to visit him at 'Mercy.' Somehow his joke about putting racing stripes on his chair no longer brought pain to her heart. It was quite simply a Ray witticism. Thank goodness that awful time was behind them.
The afternoon went by in flurry of soccer games, wrestling, wheelchair runs and food. Soon it was 6.30pm, already dark and time Jenny and the boys were saying their goodbyes. Ray announced that he was going to lie down for a while and would join them again later.
Neela went to her room, picked up the letter re-read it and decided to bring it down to Ray straight away. She knocked on the cottage door and called. "Ray, its Neela, can I come in?"
"Come on in, I'm in bed." he replied.
He was propped up in bed reading.
"Are you sure you're OK?"
"Yes. I'm being careful that's all. What's up Roomie?"
"Ray, I wasn't entirely honest about this morning. You see I didn't actually get lost. It started raining and I ducked into a church to shelter. Did I ever tell you how much I like churches?"
Ray smiled. "No. Neela, you never did and last time I checked, you were Sikh."
She frowned. "That does not mean I can't like churches. Well anyhow, I sat in the church for a long time listening to the rain and enjoying the silence and the light. At some point as I sat there I must have sighed because the next thing an elderly priest had commented on my sigh. Anyhow, before I knew it I had told him my entire life story since I arrived in Chicago. I think I was more honest with him and with myself than I've been in a long time.
After our talk, he advised me to write to Michael, talk about our marriage, and then write to you as well. Anyhow, while you were in bed this afternoon I wrote the letter to Michael. I didn't have time to write yours but now I've decided, its probably just easier to give you Michael's letter and let you read it. Its not likely that Michael will object and there's nothing in it I don't want you to know."
"Are you going to wait while I read it?"
"No. There's a lot in it and some of it might be a bit upsetting so I think its better you read it on your own and then let me know when you want to talk. At least I hope you'll want to talk. By the way, if you don't call me I'll be on the back porch at 8.30 with your parents."
"Right I'll talk to you soon."
With that, he opened the letter and started to read.