“I may be exhausted, but my mind is still working. What is going on between you two?”
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out. “All right. You want to know? I'll tell you. That idea of making him jealous? It had to be ditched even before it got off the ground.”
“Why?”
“He has met a beautiful woman who's even smarter than he. She's everything he wanted, and more. So there.” I glared at her.
“Oh.” Akka looked a bit stunned. She obediently went inside the room when I opened the door and ordered her in.
“And guess what? She doesn't have a mustache or body hair either.”
“Oh.” Akka sounded like she had only one word left in her vocabulary.
I dumped her shopping bag on her bed and my briefcase on the sofa. “You know what else? When I told him I was going to meet a nice Konkani stockbroker from Connecticut, he wished me good luck.” Akka remained silent. “Wished me
luck,
damn it!”
“Oh.” Akka hastily discarded her coat and sneakers and headed for the bathroom. I heard the water running for a while, and then everything went quiet. She didn't come out for a long time.
Guilt began to settle around me. I'd been so nasty to her. It wasn't
her
fault that the jealousy angle hadn't worked. She was only a sweet old lady who was trying to help me. And instead of appreciating her efforts, I was treating her like the enemy.
Well, I'd make it up to her when she came out. I'd give her a big hug and order whatever she wanted from the menu.
But when she finally came out, looking frail and worn out, all she asked for was a cup of warm milk. All my coaxing to eat something did no good. She was adamant. “I'm not hungry, Meena. All I want is a cup of milk to swallow my nighttime pills with. Then I want to go to bed.”
“Akka, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you,” I said to her. Apologizing never came easily to me, so it took some effort. “It's not your fault. It's all mine for falling in love with a big dummy.”
“He's not a bad person, Meena,” she said gently. “He just hasn't realized that you are the girl for him. Give him some time. Let him socialize with that tall woman for a while. Let him learn.”
“He's never going to look at me as anything but an employee. Maybe as a friend, but no more than that.”
“Whatever you say,” she said, and settled on the bed to massage the smelly ointment into her feet. Apparently it was some kind of
ayurvedic
herbal concoction, and Akka swore by it.
“So you're not mad at me?” I asked her.
“If I got angry at my children and grandchildren for minor things, then I would be upset all my life.”
I went up to her and gave her a hug. “Thank you for being so forgiving. I'll order your cup of milk now. How about a nice apple or banana to go with it? You need some nutrition.”
“Okay, order me an apple.”
“I'll ask for the best apple in the house,” I promised her, and picked up the phone.
Chapter 26
A
s if to match my mood, the next morning turned out cloudy. And it was a good thing that Akka wasn't going into the city. Although I had a folding umbrella with me, Akka would have had a hard time balancing while walking around with an umbrella and that giant handbag of hers.
Despite having nothing scheduled for the morning, Akka was dressed and ready before I was out of bed. I gave her an exasperated look. “Couldn't you sleep in and enjoy at least one quiet morning?”
She glanced at me above her glasses. “I
am
enjoying a quiet morning. I'm reading my favorite verses.”
Well, who could argue with that kind of enthusiasm? I yawned and dragged myself to the bathroom. A half hour later we ate our breakfast. I called Maryann to find out how long she expected our meeting to last. “If it's going to be over by midmorning, I'd like to check out of the hotel now,” I said her. She thought that was a good idea. “You mind if my aunt comes with me to the office?”
“Not at all,” she replied. “She can always make herself comfortable in the break room or in my office while we conduct business.”
I looked at Akka across the table. “Would you mind waiting in the office this morning while I wind up my work?”
“Whatever is convenient for you,
charda,
” she replied.
“Good. That way we can check out right now and head home directly after my meeting.”
A little later, I had Akka settled in the break room with a couple of Maryann's magazines and a cup of coffee. Prajay joined Maryann and me briefly to offer comments on the proofs. He seemed pleased with them and the costs negotiated by Maryann, so I was free to take a set to Nishant for his final approval.
Around midmorning I went back to the break room to get Akka. Instead of finding her sitting all by herself with a refrigerator, a microwave, and a vending machine for company, I found her surrounded by a bunch of Rathnaya's employees.
Puzzled, I stood at the door to observe what was going on. She was sitting at the head of one of the corner tables, talking. She was holding her arms above her head, palms facing out. The half-dozen individuals at her table seemed to be listening with rapt attention.
“And then, when you feel the tension easing from your lower back, you should exhale slowly, and go back to your relaxed position.” Her arms dropped, and her hands gracefully descended to the table. “This you should do at least ten times at each sitting to get any benefits out of it.”
She must have become aware of me standing in the doorway, because she looked at me and smiled. “Ah, there you are. Meeting is over?”
The rest of the group turned to look at me. I walked up to them, a little suspicious of what was going on. “What are you doing?” I asked Akka.
“These young people were telling me that they spend so much time on their computers that they suffer from stiff backs and legs, so I showed them some simple yoga exercises to help them relax and avoid back problems.”
“No kidding.” I had had no idea my great-aunt was an authority on yoga. But then she was the self-proclaimed expert on a lot of things.
One young man smiled at me. “Your auntie is a very smart lady.” The others nodded, seconding his opinion.
“And so interesting,” added a young woman.
“She certainly is,” I agreed. I wondered what these people were doing here listening to Akka's lecture instead of working.
“We were on our midmorning break, and we discovered your aunt here,” a bespectacled man explained, probably because he saw my censorious expression.
Just then Prajay and Maryann walked in, bringing the impromptu yoga class to an abrupt end. The men and women quickly returned to their offices with their coffee and sodas. Prajay watched their hasty exit and turned to me with raised brows.
“Akka was lecturing your employees on how to overcome the ills of a sedentary profession,” I explained.
“How
does
one overcome that? I'm curious myself.”
“Yoga and meditation. You see, yoga is good for the body,” said Akka, “while meditation is excellent for the mind and soul.”
Prajay looked impressed. “I can see that the art of consulting runs in the family.” He threw Akka a quizzical glance. “Maybe I should hire you as a consultant to teach yoga to all my employees.”
Was it my imagination, or was there a hint of sarcasm in his words?
Akka didn't appear to notice any cynicism. She looked sufficiently pleased, but pretended modesty. “Oh, don't be silly. I know a little, and I practice it for my own health, that's all. I heard one of them complaining of back pain from sitting for many hours, so I volunteered to show him some stretching exercises followed by meditation. The others were interested, so they stayed to see my demonstration.”
Maryann looked intrigued. “Maybe you should teach my husband and me some of that. My husband has a chronic back problem.”
“I would be happy to teach you,” Akka promised her before turning to me. “Are we leaving soon?”
“Yes. If you want to use the ladies' room, you might want to do it now,” I said to her, then watched her make her way out of the break room. Maryann went after her to show her the way to the restroom. I could almost bet Akka was going to express her hope of returning someday to teach yoga to Maryann.
Prajay and I were left alone.
“So, what big weekend plans do you have?” he asked.
I started walking toward the door. “I told you I'm meeting Ajit Baliga.” Prajay was right behind me as I went to Maryann's office to retrieve our coats and my briefcase.
“That's right. It slipped my mind.”
Was he doing this on purposeâreminding me that he didn't give a damn about my private life? I didn't want to wait another second for Akka and Maryann to return, so I made a beeline for the hallway where the ladies' room was located. They came out just then, making it easy for me to help Akka into her coat and escort her to the elevator. Maryann and Prajay stayed with us while we waited for the elevator.
I shook hands with Maryann first. “Thank you so much for everything, Maryann. It was great meeting you. It's been an interesting couple of days.”
Maryann smiled. “Interesting as in hectic, you mean?”
“I like hectic,” I assured her. “A busy day goes faster.”
Akka said fond good-byes to the two of them, by clasping their hands in both of hers and thanking them profusely for their hospitality.
“I'll walk you ladies to your car,” Prajay offered.
“No need for that, thank you.” I took Akka's arm to steer her away before she could encourage him.
Prajay shook his head. “It's no trouble at all.”
“I'm sure you have enough work piled on your desk,” I countered with icy politeness.
He glanced at me warily, then gave in by shaking my hand. “All right, then. Have a safe trip home.”
With both relief and regret gnawing at me, I drove toward the highway. Akka looked a bit glum, too. I had a feeling she was experiencing a letdown after a busy couple of days. I glanced at her. “So, did you enjoy your short trip to Washington?”
“Yes, very much.” She patted my arm. “Thank you,
charda
. Most young people don't like to take on the responsibility of old people.”
“It was nice having you with me.” I sent her an appreciative smile. “Besides, you're not like the other elders in the family. I tend to forget that you're one of
them.
”
Akka chuckled. “Don't tell your mother that. She will not invite me to your house anymore. She thinks I'm a bad influence on all the children.”
“That's what makes you different. You're a hell of a lot more fun.”
By the time we got onto the highway Akka was fast asleep, reminding me that despite her young and modern ways, she was still an old lady.
I put the car on cruise control and started to plan my meeting with Ajit Baliga for the next day.
Chapter 27
D
espite having done the blind-date thing before, I was a little tense about meeting Ajit. Thrusting my gloved hands deep into my coat pockets, I walked out of the train station and toward the restaurant.
The temperatures had dropped drastically since the previous day's rain, and the wind was brisk. It whipped my hair about my face, ruining the carefully washed and blow-dried look I'd accomplished.
At least it wasn't raining. A skinny man dressed in a Santa suit and fake white beard stood outside a grocery store, ringing a bell for donations.
Pedestrians were aplenty, but like me, most seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the cold and to their destinations, so they mostly ignored poor Santa. Besides, it was way too early in the season to think about Christmas. The appetizing aroma of Chinese food wafted toward me from somewhere. It reminded me I hadn't eaten breakfast.
Looking at my watch, I realized I had about five minutes to spare before my appointed time. I hoped I could duck into the ladies' room and fix my hair before I faced my date.
When I had told Mom and Dad that I was meeting Ajit that afternoon, Mom had given me an approving nod. “I have a good feeling about this boy. Try to refrain from expressing those strong feminist opinions of yours, at least the first time you meet,” she'd warned me. I think she secretly believed this was my last chance before the first gray hairs started to pop up.
Dad was more casual about it. “Be careful in the city,” was his terse advice.
Akka was the only one who knew what was going on. She winked at me before I left. I was depressed about her leaving for Shabari-pachi's house the next day. Her two weeks at our house were now over, and my mom was to drive her to my aunt's place. Although she had visited us like clockwork every year, this was the first time Akka and I had become really close.
As I approached the restaurant, I knew I'd lost my chance to fix my hair. A man wearing a brown leather jacket stood outside the building, hands in his jacket pockets, absently watching the traffic. Perhaps to keep himself warm, or from impatience, he was rocking on his heels. I was pretty sure it was my date. The wind was ruffling his short, dark hair.
He must have heard the click of my high-heeled boots, because he turned to face me and stopped rocking.
It was him.
I approached him with a smile and a toss of my head to get the hair out of my eyes. “Hi. Are you early or am I late?” With my three-inch heels I could look him in the eye without having to lift my chin too high. He was an average-sized man.
He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and held it out. “I'm early. Didn't want to take a chance on being late and making a lousy first impression,” he said with a grin.
Good sense of humor,
I thought as I shook his hand.
He inclined his head toward the restaurant. “Shall we go in?” Opening the door, he ushered me in and shut it behind us.
“Oh, good, it's warm in here.” I took off my gloves and put them in my coat pocket.
“And smells great. The aroma of
chimichangas
was driving me crazy while I stood outside,” he told me.
While we waited to be seated, I looked around. The place wasn't very crowded, perhaps because of the blustery weather. Only half a dozen tables were occupied, mostly by young couples. An older man who appeared to be the owner approached us and led us to a table, telling us that a waitress would be with us in a minute.
“Are
chimichangas
your favorite Mexican food?” I asked Ajit. I slung my coat on the back of my chair while Ajit did the same with his.
“I like anything as long as it's spicy enough to strip a layer off the roof of my mouth,” he replied, waiting for me to get seated. As he pulled out his own chair and sat down, I took a quick inventory. He wore a thick, gray sweatshirt and jeans. His hands were square, with a dusting of dark hair on the backs and wrists.
He looked like a clean-cut, wholesome Indian manâeverything Madhuri-pachi had said he was.
“In that case, we're at the right place. They make some killer hot food here.” I combed my fingers through my tangled tresses and patted them into place, hoping the effort made me look somewhat presentable.
On the other hand, I noticed Ajit hadn't bothered to do anything with his hair. It looked windblown, but he didn't seem to care. I rather liked that in a man, the lack of vanity. I couldn't stand men who constantly fussed with their hair and clothesâa feminine trait.
That's what I liked about Prajay: He was always well-groomed, but never fidgeted with his hair or his tie or buttons. I tried to shake off the thought. I had to put an end to that kind of wistfulness. Prajay was probably having a courtship weekend with his date.
A young waitress approached us, thankfully dragging my thoughts away from Prajay. She came with a couple of menus and a basket of nacho chips and a bowl of salsa. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she said, glancing at us with the usual polite ennui that comes with seeing hundreds of customers every week.
As the waitress hurried off to fetch our drinks, we studied our menus. It gave us both a chance to let certain facts about each other register. It was typical: meet, greet, assess, and deliberate. Both Ajit and I would more or less make up our minds within the next twenty minutes whether this initial meeting would go somewhere or not.
So far, so good, I concluded. He seemed nice enough and was decent looking. Whether there'd be any spark of chemistry between us was yet to be seen.
“I think I'll have the taco salad,” I said, finally looking up from my menu. I'd known I wanted the taco salad even before I'd walked into the restaurant.
“Is that all you're going to eat?” Ajit dug into the chips and salsa. “No wonder you're so slim.”
“You haven't seen the size of their salad,” I told him, thinking he was on the slim side himself. “I bet I won't even finish half of it.” His shoulders were narrow compared to Prajay's.
Oops, I was having silly thoughts again.
The waitress came back with our drinks. “Ready to order?” After taking our orders for my salad and Ajit's
chimichangas,
she disappeared.
Now that the preliminaries of food and drink were out of the way, it was time to get down to the basics of getting to know each other. “So, how was your trip to Washington?” Ajit reached for another nacho chip. In fact, he had already made a dent in the mound of chips.
“Very productive.” I took a sip of my refreshing sangria. “My work isn't all that exciting, so tell me about yours.”
He laughed. “You think
my
work is exciting? I buy and sell stocks and bonds.” He took a swallow of his beer. “I'm glued to a computer and a phone all day. Some days, I work ten to twelve hours, and others less than six. It all depends.”
“Madhuri-pachi says you're very successful; you must be doing something right.”
“I live comfortably.” He was no fool. He went back to eating chips, hinting that was as far as he'd go in revealing his financial status. “Your
pachi
tells me the same about you. I've heard a lot of good things.” His tone was light, teasing.
“Madhuri-pachi is a bit prejudiced when it comes to her family. In her book, we're all wildly successful and good-looking.”
“She was right about your looks. You're even prettier in person than you are in your pictures.”
My cheeks warmed. “Exactly how many pictures of me did my aunt share with you?”
“Oh, six or seven ... or eight.” Maybe because I rolled my eyes, he added with a chuckle, “Actually I saw two. And they were nice.”
“Had she mentioned to you how short I am?” Konkani boys were usually obsessed with tall girls. I didn't want him to get the wrong impression because of my high heels.
“She did say you were petite.”
“Petite is a polite term for midget.”
“That's okay, Meena. I'm not exactly a tall guy myself, so I have no problem meeting a petite girl.” He grinned in between sips of beer. “In fact, I like petite women.”
Well, this was a first. It was refreshing to come across a guy who didn't have grand notions about his own height. Right then and there I sort of made up my mind that Ajit Baliga was an all-right guy. But I was still waiting for the elusive spark. “So, have you dated many petite girls?”
He stared at me. “Didn't your aunt tell you?”
Uh-oh.
“Tell me what?”
“That I used to be engaged to someone?”
“No ... she didn't.” I should've known Madhuri-pachi would conceal something significant like an ex-fiancée from me.
“I'm sorry. I was under the impression you knew.” He was silent for a moment. “Does that mean you don't want to continue with this lunch?”
“Don't be silly. I have nothing against past relationships.” I didn't want to tell him that I'd dated a few guys myself, even if I hadn't been engaged to any. “This is America. Dating is something guys and girls are expected to do.”
He nodded his relief. “Glad to hear that. For a moment I thought you'd get up and walk out.”
Our food arrived just then, giving me an opportunity to get my thoughts together for a suitable response. The combined scents of cumin, hot peppers, onions, and tomatoes made my mouth water. The taco shell looked fresh and crisp. Ajit's
chimichangas
looked wonderful, too, with curls of smoke rising from the dish.
I glanced at Ajit. “Why did you think I'd walk out?”
“Your aunt tells me your parents are very old-fashioned, so naturally I thoughtâ”
“âthat I was a conservative little fuddy-duddy?”
“Not quite like that.” His expression told me that's exactly what he'd assumed.
I laughed. “That's okay. Madhuri-pachi is right about my parents, but my brothers and I are hardly like that. My brother ...” I wasn't sure if Maneel would appreciate my discussing his affairs with a total stranger. Moreover, Mom and Dad wouldn't approve of my telling such stories to a potential groom. It would automatically render me ineligible in the eyes of most Konkani men.
“What about your brother?” Ajit pressed, leaving me no choice but to tell.
Oh, what the heck, everyone would learn soon enough about Maneel and Naseem anyway. “My older brother, Maneel, who's a stockbroker like you, is more or less engaged to a Muslim girl.”
“Really? Your aunt didn't tell me that either.”
“I know why,” I said blandly. “She wouldn't want you to reject the idea of meeting me because my brother's about to marry a Muslim girl.”
Ajit looked amused. “Just like she didn't tell you I was engaged once.”
I gave a mock groan. “Aunts can be so sly and manipulative.”
Now that we'd laughed about how absurd it was that Madhuri had deliberately withheld information, a level of comfort began to settle over us. As we ate, we chatted about our hobbies and favorite movies and music. Ajit's food started to disappear at a brisk pace. The guy had a hearty appetite.
Between bites I cocked an eyebrow at Ajit. “Can I ask you something personal?”
He paused. “I'll try to answer.”
“Why aren't you engaged anymore?”
“She didn't want to marry me after all. She was in love with a classmate of hers and started seeing me only because her parents wanted it.”
“You mean they forced it on her like they do with some girls in India?” I was beginning to feel full, so I pushed my half-eaten salad aside.
“I don't think they forced her as such. I believe they tried to convince her it was better to marry a Konkani rather than a Polish guy.”
“She didn't have
anything
to say about it?” What American-bred young woman in her right mind would agree to being manipulated like that?
Ajit finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Not in the beginning. We saw each other for about five months. It was expected that we'd get engaged, so I proposed, and she accepted. One day, she just flat out told me it would never work between us because she was still in love with her Polish boyfriend.”
“Oh, wow. Must have been rough.” I could only imagine.
“At least she was honest.” Why was he defending her?
“But not in the beginning,” I pointed out. “Was she still seeing him while you guys were dating?”
“I believe she was sincerely trying to forget him to make her parents happy. But then ...” Ajit shrugged. “Who knows? She might have stayed in touch with him on some level.”
I felt sorry for Ajit. I wondered if he had loved this girl. And who
was
she? I'd have to ask Madhuri-pachi. “I'm sorry it didn't work out, Ajit,” I said.