by Mona Shroff
“Ahem. Um, excuse me?” She furrowed her brow and leaned in toward him. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” Brain and mouth reinstated communication and he leaned as casually as he could against the doorframe, as if it had been his intention to be silent. He grinned at her in what he hoped was a slow and confident grin, as opposed to an idiotic gawk. “I just had to hear that accent again,” he said, finding himself at last. “It’s as beautiful as you.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, her eyes going cold. “If you could just let Mrs. Mehta know that I’m here.”
Sam uncrossed his arms and turned his body to step aside and make room for her to pass. “Come in. She’s my aunt.” Maya brushed by him, bringing with her the scent of honeysuckle, sending an electrical current through him.
Wet footsteps and a chirpy voice announced the arrival of his girlfriend, Bridget. “Hey, Sam.” She wrapped a possessive arm around him. “What’s going on?”
When Sam didn’t move or speak, Maya turned to Bridget. “Hi, I’m Maya. I’m here about the nanny position.”
Bridget pursed her lips into a smile. “Oh.” Sam felt her arm tighten around him as she waved her free hand toward the back of the house. “Mrs. Mehta is back by the pool.” She glanced at Sam fondly. “He’s helping his uncle with renovations.” She turned to Maya, her voice hard again. “But he doesn’t live here.”
“I’ll take you back,” Sam said, at last able to speak and move at the same time. He unwrapped himself from Bridget and led Maya to the pool, Bridget pointedly trailing behind. “Monica-mami, there’s a nanny candidate to see you.” He felt Maya looking at him as he addressed his aunt, but when he turned to face her, Maya’s attention was on Monica-mami. It happened from time to time. He didn’t really look Indian, so people just didn’t expect him to use Indian terms for family.
His aunt looked up from where she had been reapplying her daughter’s sunscreen, her blond ponytail bouncing along with her smile. “Hello.” She extended a hand to Maya. “Monica Mehta. Nice to meet you.”
Sam stood by, mesmerized by Maya’s smile. A silence fell over the area and he realized all three women were staring at him. His aunt’s green eyes held a smirk in them. “Sam,” she said, “could you and Bridget play with Ben and Niki while I speak with Maya?”
He flushed and hastily turned to Bridget. “Sure, c’mon, Brig.” Sam grabbed a grudging Bridget’s hand and they headed for the pool.
* * *
BACK AT HIS parents’ house, Sam found himself sitting out on the deck in the middle of the night holding an untouched glass of cold milk. He had considered a beer, but he was starting the bathroom remodel tomorrow at his uncle’s and had to be at the hardware store early the next morning, and he already wasn’t sleeping. The incessant chirping of crickets barely registered and he started, as the glass, wet with condensation, nearly slipped from his grip.
He had stayed at his uncle’s house, long after Bridget and Maya had each left, to have dinner with Ben and Niki. His cousins had been unable to talk about anything but their new nanny, whom Monica-mami had hired on the spot. Maya had won awards in swimming. Maya lived in Queens, but she was living here with her uncle and aunt for the summer—and how cool was that? Maya had an amazing accent, didn’t she, Sammy? Sam had remained silent, simply nodding his head, trying not to be thrilled by each additional piece of information the children gave him.
It was the accent, he told himself. Two days of listening to it and she’d be just another pretty face. That was it. What else could it be? He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that insisted that no other girl had ever kept him up in the middle of the night—unless she was in his bed.
He set the glass down next to him and stared out at his battered old childhood play set. He and his brother had climbed on it and jumped off it as children. It would be nice to still have a brother to talk to, but the accident had changed everything. The play set was rusted, with a fraying rope and dented slide. The swing was simply two chains; the seat had long since broken off. He couldn’t convince his parents to get rid of it. Mostly, it was his mother who refused to part with it. After all, Arjun had played on it.
He chugged the milk and went to bed.
* * *
SLEEP HAD NOT come until close to sunrise, so he yawned as he entered his uncle’s house and perked up at the scent of brewing coffee. “Sudhir-mama,” he called out to his uncle, “I’m really sorry. I know I’m late but there was a line—” He froze as he entered the kitchen and found Maya mixing something in a large bowl.
She flicked those liquid-honey eyes at him over the bowl, and Sam’s pulse quickened. “Your uncle already left for the office, but said that you knew what to do.” She shook her head at his blank stare. “With the bathroom remodel?”
The kitchen let in a good amount of light, so despite the dark wood cabinetry, mornings here were sun-filled and bright. The addition of Maya to this place unnerved him so much it was like the simple and automatic act of breathing required thought. Her T-shirt and shorts grazed her curves in the most tantalizing way, and her hair was trapped in a ponytail. Sam had to tame his urge to free her hair from its imprisonment. The silky-brown of her skin contrasted so pleasantly with the honey in her eyes that Sam didn’t even care that there was a taunt in them. Inhale. “Um, yeah sure. I mean I do. Know.” Exhale. “I do know what to do.” He didn’t move.
A wisp of dark curl had escaped the ponytail. She tucked it behind her ear as she furrowed her brow in irritation. The action was simple, just tucking away a flyaway piece of hair, but everything about it had Sam entranced, from the graceful movement of her hand to her face, to fingers grasping the dark, silken curl as they pushed it back and over her ear.
“So go do it then.”
Right. He turned and nearly bumped into the doorframe. Real smooth. When had he become such a dork?
CHAPTER FIVE
MAYA
Maryland, 1996
MAYA OPENED THE oven and released the deep, rich aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
“Mmm, that smells amazing.” Sam’s voice was almost as mellow as the melted chocolate.
Maya did her best to ignore Sam. But how did he manage to make chocolate chip cookies sound sexy?
She had an awareness of Sam’s presence, as if her senses were suddenly heightened when he was around. Which was annoying, because the fact that he had flirted with her within five seconds of meeting her while he still had a girlfriend did not impress her in the least. Maybe some boys thought they were good-looking enough to get away with that, but Maya wasn’t buying it.
There probably wasn’t a functioning brain to go with that body, anyway. Not that she’d noticed Sam’s body. Or his hair. Definitely had not noticed the knee-weakening smile.
She’d only ever had one boyfriend, which might have been unusual for your average twenty-two-year-old college graduate, but it wasn’t necessarily unusual for a twenty-two-year-old first-generation Indian girl. Especially if her mother was Sunita Rao.
Maya had dated Vinay behind her mother’s back for about two months in her junior year of high school. She’d made the mistake of kissing him on school grounds on the day that her mother had parent-teacher conferences. When her mother caught them, she lectured Maya for days about her priorities, the dangers of falling in love so young and the fact that boys were not to be trusted, anyway. Sunita had made it abundantly clear that she would be the one to find Maya the proper mate—so Maya need not concern herself with it. She also called the boy’s parents and insisted that they rein in their son and keep him away from Maya, lest she call the authorities. Maya became the joke at school. As a result, she simply avoided boys and focused her energies on her studies, continuing to do so all through culinary school.
Ultimately, this was fine with Maya, as she had plans. She was getting out of the bakery. Her mother had o
pened it when Maya was about ten, a couple of years after Maya’s father had left them. The bakery had become their livelihood as well as their home. But while Maya loved baking, she wanted more from life than just running a small hometown bakery. So as for her mother finding her a husband, she figured she’d deal with that when the time came.
Sam continued to flirt with her as she placed the cookies on the cooling rack. Her back was to him when the thumping of rapid footsteps made her turn.
Niki emerged in the kitchen in her Blue’s Clues nightgown, running as fast as her little feet could carry her. Her dark hair hung in her eyes, wild from sleep. “Maya! Sammy! Ben says he doesn’t feel good. He says his tummy hurts.”
Sam was at the steps before Maya could move. She gathered Niki and followed close behind. Ben had been in bed with a fever since Maya got to work. Niki must have woken up and gone to check on him, as was her habit.
“Ben,” Sam called out as he reached Ben’s room. “Hang on, buddy, I got you.” Sam leaned down and picked up a very green-looking little boy. “Hold on, okay? We have to use the bathroom in your mom and dad’s room.”
Maya and Niki cleared a path, but Sam had taken no more than three steps down the hall before Ben started to heave. Sam quickly ducked into the hall bathroom—the one being renovated—just in time for Ben to vomit all over the both of them and the unfinished tile job.
Maya froze.
Niki held her nose. “Ugh, Maya. It’s stinky.”
Maya put down the little girl. “Go wait in your room.” Niki scampered off and Maya grabbed a paper towel roll and a couple bath towels from the hall closet. When she returned, she found Sam sitting on the edge of the tub, Ben still in his arms. The vomiting had stopped, but Sam continued to hold the boy, and spoke in slow, soothing tones.
“Feel better, buddy?” Sam said.
Ben nodded. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I got it all over you.” Tears of shame filled his eyes.
“Oh, come on, now. That was some awesomely gross throw-up. Nothing to cry about.” Sam’s voice was soft and playful.
Ben smiled through his tears. “It really is gross, huh?”
“Trust me, I know!” He turned and caught Maya watching him. He flushed and promptly returned his attention to Ben, but in her surprise, she was unable to look away from him.
Sam picked up Ben. “Let’s get you into the tub.”
Maya reached out to help him.
“Stop.” Sam shook his head. “You’ll get it on you. I’ll just clean us both up in the tub.”
There wasn’t a trace of the playful or flirtatious Sam she’d known for the past few weeks. “You sure?”
“Yes. Just leave all that stuff here. I’ll take care of it.” He looked her in the eye. “Thanks.”
Maya put the paper towels and the bath towels where he indicated, but remained frozen to the spot.
“Are you going to watch me take my clothes off?” Sam winked. Ben giggled.
And he was back. Maya threw him a glare and turned on her heel.
* * *
“MAYA, DID YOU BAKE? I smell cookies.” Niki was waiting in her room.
“Well, how about if we get you dressed and maybe you can have one?” Maya brushed aside some hair and found the little girl’s giggling face. “There you are!” Niki grinned.
This was Maya’s favorite part of the day. As Niki opened her closet, Maya leaned against the doorframe for a fashion show, keeping close tabs on the sounds coming from the bathroom.
“I want to wear a pink dress.”
“Sure. Pick one.” The girl had at least five pink dresses.
Niki could have been Sam’s little sister, as opposed to just a cousin, as they had the same skin tone, ready smile and soft chocolate brown eyes. Jeez, Maya really needed to get a life outside the bakery. Niki proceeded to try on each of her pink dresses, asking Maya for her opinion on each one.
“Which one, Maya?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Does that go for me, too?” Sam’s breath grazed her ear from where he stood—too close behind her.
Maya tried to ignore his clean scent as well as the heat from his body and focused on narrowing her eyes as she turned to face him. It seemed easier to not look at his face, what with his silly grin and laughing eyes. Not to mention the damp curls. But he was wearing an old concert T-shirt that was almost worn through, and had conformed nicely to the muscles in his arms and chest over time. She readjusted her gaze to his face and swallowed hard. That dimple! There was nowhere to look at him that was safe. “Sure, you can wear the pink dress if you want. It might be a step up from that T-shirt.”
He feigned hurt and shock. “What’s wrong with Hootie?”
Maya rolled her eyes and walked into the room to help Niki with her chosen dress.
“Seriously, Maya.” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Go out with me.” Like he was afraid she would say no like she had every day for the past two weeks. Valid concern. The amusement had left his eyes and was replaced with—hope? “What do you say?”
That was new. She smiled sweetly. “I’d love to, Sam.”
“You would?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
“Sure, except for the fact that you still have a girlfriend!” She glared at him, doing her best to convey the disgust she felt at him actually asking her out—repeatedly—while he was dating Bridget.
“So, if I didn’t have a girlfriend, you’d say yes?” He frowned, considering this.
Maya shrugged. “Sure? Why not?” What was the likelihood of that happening?
“He doesn’t have a girlfriend.” Niki’s muffled voice came from under her dress.
Maya’s heart pounded, and she fought to keep her face calm. “What?”
She kneeled to undo the buttons so the dress would go over the little girl’s head. Once Niki’s head was through, the girl continued. “Sammy doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore. They broke up ages ago.” Niki paused dramatically and gave an eye roll worthy of a teenager. “We didn’t like her. We like you.” She leaned in toward Maya’s ear. “And so does Sammy.”
“So it’s a done deal.” Victory colored his eyes a dazzling brown as he grinned like a little boy. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Niki laughed with glee and ran to Sam for a high five.
“Is she your wingman?” Maya attempted indignation at being tricked, even as her heart lifted.
Sam was unapologetic. “She’s great at it!” He picked up Niki. “Two cookies for you, kiddo!”
CHAPTER SIX
SAM
New York, 2012
AT THE RESTAURANT later that night, Sam pushed at his shrimp and rice, not really seeing it, not really caring to eat it. He made the appropriate sounds when Paige paused in her diatribe about the latest debacle in the wedding plans.
“Hey.” Sam started at Paige’s hand on his. “Where are you?”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s that case...and my dad wants me to look into possible nursing home fraud...” He sat up and pointedly focused on her, as if to make up for the lie. “But I’m back—you were saying?”
Paige shook her head. “Honestly, I love your dad, but doesn’t he understand how important your work is? You can’t be running around doing pro bono stuff—”
“It’s fine, Paige. I really don’t mind. Now, you were saying?” Arguing with Paige about small-time lawyering was not going to help his distraction.
She sipped her wine and continued her story about being sent the wrong linens, and how the centerpieces wouldn’t work now. They were trying to combine a Hindu ceremony with a Catholic ceremony, which, as it turned out, was no small feat. Luckily, Sam’s mother and Paige both loved a challenge, as well as each other, so Sam let them be.
Sam’s insides trembled, and his thoughts drifted again, making it nearly
impossible for him to follow Paige’s story. A daughter? He and Maya had a daughter? Maya had offered to bring him Samantha’s birth certificate as proof of her date of birth, but he didn’t need it—he knew she was telling the truth. Sam forced himself to participate in conversation with Paige until they got home.
Paige immediately attended to paperwork and phone calls for the gallery, so Sam tried to do some research on that nursing home in Maryland, but he found himself staring at the graphic of a soccer ball bouncing around on his sleeping computer screen. He shook the distractions from his head, recalling the skills he had used to focus on his studies after Maya had left him.
Hours later, he lay in bed and, without work distractions, thoughts of Maya and Samantha surfaced once more. How could it be that he had a daughter? How could Maya have kept this from him all these years? Anger mixed with his confusion. She must have been pregnant when she’d left. Further conversation with Maya had ended in only more questions. She’d deftly avoided answering them by focusing on the details of Samantha’s troubles.
He flipped the pillow over and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Even the sound of Paige’s rhythmic breathing couldn’t drive away thoughts of Maya.
Sam quietly got out of bed so as not to disturb his fiancée. He pulled on an old and worn Columbia Law sweatshirt against the night’s chill, and ambled to the kitchen to stare into the open fridge for the cure to his restlessness. Not finding it there, he went to the bar and poured two fingers of bourbon.
Sam sat in the chair by the floor-to-ceiling window, twenty-three stories up, and stared out at the vibrant, moonlit city below. The first sip of bourbon warmed him but failed to soothe. Maya had texted him Samantha’s picture, and he pulled it up on his phone. She undoubtedly had his eyes and coloring, but Maya was there, too. Subtly, in the cheekbones, maybe the chin. More likely in that intangible way that mothers and daughters look alike, even when their features don’t match.
