by Farah Heron
Ugh. Uncertainty seemed to make her blood vibrate in her veins. She didn’t know how to fix this. She decided strong chai would help her think.
But surprisingly, when she walked by the family room, she saw Duncan. Sitting alone, alternately plucking aimlessly on her guitar and writing something in a spiral notebook. He didn’t look angry anymore.
She sat on the armchair across from him. He looked up and nodded before writing something else in his notebook.
“Went for a walk and the guys left to get shoes without me. Writing a song . . .” he said, looking down at the strings.
“Am I bothering you? I can leave.”
A tiny smile appeared on one side of his lips, but he didn’t lift his head to make eye contact. “No. When the muse wanders in and sits before you, the last thing you do is ask it to leave.”
Amira raised one eyebrow. “I’m the muse?”
He grinned briefly, finally looking at her. “I find inspiration in unexpected places. You okay now?”
Amira nodded. She had no idea how to start this apology. “Yeah, I was upset about Raymond’s email. I’m really sorry I took it out on you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but sometimes I’m a bit of a bitch.”
His snort this time easily progressed to a full-on chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. And it wasn’t completely your fault. I stuck my nose where it wasn’t wanted.”
“You were trying to help, and I implied you were less than me because of my education. You’re right. I was feeling a little . . . insecure. I don’t think I’m better than you, Duncan. I was just rattled from Raymond’s email.”
He smiled warmly. “I know you don’t. And I know I need to learn to keep my opinions to myself sometimes. I’m honestly sorry, Amira.”
Her head tilted as she looked at the man in front of her. Only a few days of arguing, and two nights of mouth-wateringly delicious sex, and she felt like she knew him better than anyone she had ever been in a relationship with. Duncan was hotheaded and way too protective, but his humble apology was no surprise. He was a good man, with a deep sense of what was right.
She had tried to resist, but she had been drawn to his clear green eyes from the moment she saw him, even when coupled with ridiculous suspenders and copious amounts of plaid flannel. But now that she knew the man behind the face, it wasn’t his broad shoulders, his tempting smile, or that breathtaking singing voice that she wanted. It was the man below all that.
She was in deep. For some reason, the realization that she was already falling for this man washed her with a wave of loneliness. This would end. If she was smart, she would put a stop to it before she fell even harder. But cutting the charged wires that connected them seemed impossible. She needed him right now. So much.
“Are you nervous about going to an Indian party tonight?” she asked.
He plucked a quiet melody on the guitar. “Not really. Sameer said the food would be good, and I’m always up for trying new things. You still going?”
She nodded. “Yup. I’m not going back to Kingston.”
He looked at her, a smile in his eyes that gradually spread to his lips. “Good. That’s good.”
They stared at each other for a few more seconds before she spoke again. “I’ve sent my report to my father for his opinion on it. If he also thinks it needs work, I can speak to my professor and see if I can buy some more time.”
He put the guitar down, propping it against the couch. “I’m sure it’s okay, Amira. You’re the smartest engineer I know.”
She raised her brow. “Really? The smartest?”
“I don’t cross paths with engineers much,” he admitted. “What does your dad do again? Will he be able to tell you how good it is?”
They talked for a bit longer, about Amira’s father, about unconditional parental support, and about the anniversary party later that evening. They sat at opposite sides of the room, and talked only about families and parties, but that lonely sensation Amira felt earlier passed. She didn’t know what would happen when he left. Her degree and her job were in turmoil, but this quiet moment with Duncan was everything.
Amira smiled, feeling so much gratitude for that broken train, before moving to the seat next to him on the sofa. She reached over and kissed him gently on the cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
She shrugged. Grinning, she took a deliberate look around the room. “That party is not for hours and hours, and your band seems to have deserted you. Up for spending the day with me?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”
Oh, she had lots and lots in mind. But she didn’t need to tell him. Showing him would be much more fun.
After scrounging up some food, they spent hours in her room together. The rest of the quartet came home, but Duncan stayed right where she wanted him—by her side. He even joined Amira when she went for coffee with Reena in the late afternoon. It was an almost perfect day. All the uncertainty and insecurity from earlier was forgotten. Amira had rarely felt better.
Once they were back from the coffee shop, Amira headed upstairs to get ready for the party with Mum and Zahra. She had decided to play along with Mum’s idea of coordinated outfits with her family and chose her favourite royal blue salwar kameez, embellished with gold beading and embroidery. She accessorized with a blue dupatta scarf and paired the whole outfit with lots of gold costume jewellery. Mum looked stunning in her gold sari with blue trim, and Zahra was dressed to the nines in a blue and gold lehenga, with shimmering bangles reaching halfway up her arms. Amira laughed as the three of them stood preening in the mirror, Zahra with a pouty-lipped pose and Mum jutting her hip out. Mum grabbed her phone to take a selfie. They looked amazing. Some would think overdressed, but there is no such thing as overdressed at an Indian party. So long as they didn’t wear bridal saris, they were usually good.
Zahra grabbed her phone and handed it to Mum. “Can you take one of Amira and me with my phone? I want to send it to Maddie.”
“Maddie? Like, Duncan’s Maddie?” Amira hadn’t realized the girls had exchanged contact information.
Zahra nodded. “She sent me a picture yesterday of her costume for The Nutcracker. It was so cool, she was a toy soldier.”
Amira posed for the picture, feeling her heart warm to the idea of a friendship between the girls. But while watching her sister text Maddie the picture, it occurred to her that, as the threads knitting her and Duncan together strengthened, not just by their own bond but by the bond of the two girls they loved, she was risking more shattered hearts than her own if it ended.
On her way back downstairs to meet the guys, Sameer cornered Amira. He told her that other than meeting his grandmother, he didn’t expect anything else of her at the party and wouldn’t be upset if she didn’t even hang out with him there. That was a relief. She couldn’t let on she was seeing Duncan, of course, but she wasn’t really one for PDAs, anyway.
There was a genuine spring in her step as she walked down the stairs with Sameer to find Travis, Duncan, and Barrington standing there, discussing shoes.
“Wow, Amira,” Travis said. “You’re stunning. I love that colour on you. You’ll turn all the heads tonight.”
Amira thanked him. She knew she looked good. She loved Indian clothes, and this particular salwar kameez was her favourite because the colour complemented her complexion, and the fit hugged her curves. Amira’s gaze travelled to Duncan. He was in that royal blue dress shirt again. She laughed, making her way towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned close but didn’t kiss her.
“We match,” she said.
“No, not even close. You are far, far superior. You look spectacular, babe. I want to kiss you, but then I’d be wearing that lipstick, right?”
She laughed again as she patted his cheek and went in search of her gold stiletto sandals.
The five of them drove together in Sameer’s car. Surprisingly, all seemed in good spirits. She would have thought Sameer and Travis would be
more like rabbits entering a den of predators, but they seemed to be putting on a brave front. Knowing that Sameer didn’t have high expectations of her allowed Amira to luxuriate in the warm anticipation of the night ahead. She hoped to spend time with her mother and sister, and maybe even reconnect with some old friends. She’d even promised to dance Bollywood-style with Zahra. And she was looking forward to showing Duncan a bit more of her culture.
The perfection of her day solidified one thing for Amira—her budding thing with Duncan was far from casual. She was falling for him, and as terrifying as that was, she didn’t want to fight against it. But before even entertaining the idea of a future, she needed to see if he could accept, or better embrace, the Indian part of her. Her family, her food, her music, and her religion. They weren’t from the same culture, but maybe Sameer was right. Duncan deserved the chance to understand her. And he would only understand her if she was willing to show all of herself to him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
DESPITE THE PLEASANT car ride, palpable nerves hit the moment Sameer parked his car in the community centre lot. The place was huge, and the lot was full. The centre was one of those newer community hubs north of the city, complete with a library, ice arena, swimming pool, and rooms to rent for functions of various sizes. But since hockey season was over, and Amira doubted there were too many people at the library at 8:30 on a Friday night, it was likely that most of these cars were here for the anniversary party. This was a bigger deal than she expected.
The massive hall was decorated with party-store streamers in silver and navy and twenty-fifth wedding anniversary banners, and the festive atmosphere was permeated with the scent of fried food, rich spices, and perfume. Amira walked in with a nervous smile, her trepidation matched by three of the men who followed her. Sameer and Travis finally looked like fodder for wolves, and Barrington looked like he wasn’t sure what to expect as a large black man walking into an Indian party. Amira glanced back at Duncan. He cheerfully crossed the threshold, handsome and confident. Nothing phased her garden gnome.
She scanned for her mother in the crowd but didn’t find her.
“We need to say hello to my grandmother,” Sameer whispered to her, “then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Amira!” Zahra appeared.
“Hey, Squish.”
“Can I hang out with you guys? There’s no one good here tonight.”
Duncan laughed, looking down at Zahra’s wide eyes. “Hey, I’m here, I’m good, aren’t I? Stay close to me, Zahra. I need you to be my cultural translator tonight. How do you say congratulations in Gujarati?”
Zahra beamed, delighted to have an adult’s undivided attention.
“All right, Sameer, let’s go see your grandmother.” Amira stood tall and applied her best fake smile. She glanced at Travis.
Travis nodded and lowered himself into a chair at a big, empty table, his expression resigned. Amira gave him a sympathetic smile. She didn’t want to do this, but what choice did she have?
Amira followed Sameer towards the crowd to find Shirin. But Shirin beat them to the punch and found them before they’d moved even five feet from the table.
“Sameer!” Shirin was a small woman wearing a beige sari and a warm smile. She hugged her grandson and kissed both his cheeks before turning to Amira. “Amira, look at you! You’ve grown so big. I remember you when you were such a little thing!” She hugged and kissed Amira, then clutched both of Amira’s hands in her own.
“Did you eat yet? We had the samosas made special. They’re chicken!” She smiled before pulling Amira closer by the arm. “We’re all so happy you and Sameer have found each other again, beta. You knew each other when you were babies, do you remember?”
“No, Aunty. It was a long time ago.” She peeked at Sameer out of the corner of her eye, not surprised to see him blushing.
Shirin leaned closer. “You know, Sameer and his mother lived here before they moved to Ottawa. They should have stayed. Sameer needed family and friends near him. Anyway, he’s here now, maybe you can convince him to stay in Toronto.”
“I can’t, Maa. I’m only here for the competition,” Sameer said.
“And what about this singing competition? Singing Western songs with those boys . . . you should be singing Indian music! Did you know Amira’s sister does Kathak dancing? We should have asked her to perform today. She’s so sweet. Just like Amira. Such a sweet family.” Shirin patted the top of Amira’s hand as she spoke.
Amira did her best to keep her fake smile on her lips. Good thing Duncan wasn’t around to hear this. He would have a choice comment about anyone labelling Amira as sweet. She looked up and saw Duncan and Zahra about a dozen feet away, looking at some blown-up photos of the couple celebrating their anniversary.
Shirin was still holding her hand, but Amira recognized the need to get away from this woman before her expression betrayed her annoyance. And after one more peek at Sameer, she thought it best to get her friend away, too. “My nanima’s here, we should say hello.”
“Wait,” Shirin interrupted, squeezing Amira’s hand tighter. “You have to meet Sameer’s masis first. I have three daughters, you know. Neelam is my youngest.” She pointed to the front of the room. “Tazim and Anar are there, they should meet anyone important to Sameer.”
Amira didn’t want to meet Sameer’s aunties. Aunties who would look her up and down as if assessing a lamb before slaughter. Aunties who’d ask leading questions to determine her suitability to join their family. Aunties who had no idea who Sameer really was. She glanced at Travis and Barrington sitting at the table. It was the quartet that mattered to Sameer, not her.
She stood tall and squared her shoulders. “His friends are important to him. Sameer, what do you say we all go meet your aunties.”
He smiled a little too tightly, but seemed to agree. He motioned to Travis and Barrington to join them as Amira motioned Duncan and her sister over.
Led by Shirin, Sameer, Amira, Travis, Barrington, Duncan, and Zahra started making the rounds of the room, taking a scenic route towards the aunties at the front. They stopped to look at the family pictures, the elaborate centrepieces of white and blue roses, and the impressive sweets table piled high with jalebi and mithai in an array of pastel colours. All while Shirin shared the full itinerary of the speeches and special entertainment that would be happening later in the night. Shirin had them stop at what felt like every little grouping of guests dotting the hall, where, speaking in Gujarati, every sari-clad Indian woman between the age of sixty and eighty was introduced as Shirin’s “dearest friend.” Amira was proudly presented to each of them as Sameer’s special companion, while Travis, Duncan, and Barrington were lucky to get a disinterested wave and a mention as “other friends.” The quartet followed somewhat stoically as Sameer and Amira were paraded around ceremoniously.
No introductions were necessary in the eighth grouping of people since Nanima was in that group. She stepped towards them and kissed Amira’s cheek, then smiled at Sameer and spoke in English.
“I am so happy you have brought Amira. Do you know how hard it is to get her to come to these parties? It seems you have more influence with her than any of us do.” Nanima laughed at herself before taking Sameer’s hand and pressing it over Amira’s. “See?” she said, looking at Shirin. “I told you they were close.”
Amira extracted her hand and took a step backwards to stand next to Travis. “They’re all my friends. Hey, Nanima, remember I was telling you that it was Travis who did Zahra’s hair before the ballet? You said she looked like an angel.”
Nanima smiled at Travis. “She looked lovely, thank you. Zahra was so happy that day.”
Shirin waved her hand at Zahra. “Zahra always looks like an angel. Such a beautiful girl. Just like you, Amira. I am so happy Sameer came here and found something so meaningful.” Shirin wedged herself beside Amira, effectively pushing Travis aside in the process.
Fuck. Amira turned and saw a blank expression on Travis’s f
ace. Duncan looked pissed off and moved in to stand on one side of Travis while Barrington took the other side. Travis’s friends had him. But Sameer did nothing. And said nothing.
At least Sameer looked miserable. That furrowed brow and deep tension that had been his constant expression when she first met him had retuned. No doubt, he hated the way Shirin and Nanima were treating his boyfriend, but he did nothing to stop it. Amira glared at him, motioning towards Travis. Do something! she tried to tell him with her eyes. She hoped he understood.
Thankfully, he seemed to. It wasn’t near enough, but the deliberate step he took away from Amira and his grandmother and towards the quartet put him in a line with the other members of his group. The quartet looked complete. A united front, Amira hoped. Sameer closed his eyes a few seconds before speaking. “Maa, I’m here for the contest. My singing and my friends are meaningful for me.”
Maybe it would have been enough if Sameer had looked at Travis when he said it. Or if he had stood near his boyfriend instead of next to Duncan. But Amira saw it in Travis’s face. He was done. She wasn’t surprised when he took a step backwards, away from the group. “I’ll be at the table.”
And Sameer let him go.
Amira and Sameer ended up meeting the aunties alone, as the rest of the quartet and Zahra scattered after Travis left. And it was pretty anticlimactic. The aunties seemed like lovely women with kind eyes, but they were clearly too busy with the party to pay much attention to their nephew and his “girlfriend.” Finally, Amira and Sameer were able to extract themselves from Shirin’s grasp, so to speak, and head to the table towards the others.
Travis and Barrington seemed deep in conversation at the table, and Zahra and Duncan weren’t there. “Your sister took Duncan to get food,” Barrington said, standing. “And I’m going to step out and call Marcia.” He looked at Sameer, then Travis, clearly hoping that leaving them alone would mean they’d talk about what just happened. Amira extracted herself as well and went in search of her sister and Duncan.
