He nodded thoughtfully. "Is that what you think happened at the engagement party? She dumped me because of you?”
I shrugged. “How would I know?”
“Is that what you would do? Dump your boyfriend if he flirted with someone else?"
"If my boyfriend didn't seem entirely smitten by me, he wouldn't be my boyfriend. I expect exclusivity and 100% love because that is what I will give him."
"Good to know. So, is your boyfriend exclusive now?"
"I don’t have one.” A lopsided smile appeared on his face and he sat back, as satisfied as the cat that ate the canary. “Can I go back to work now so I can finish some tasks for my boss?" I asked, adding special emphasis on the word boss.
When I came back to his office after a bathroom break. Ryan had left. On my closed laptop was a sticky note from him.
"I got an urgent call. I have to get back to the other office. You can work from home for the rest of the day. If anything urgent comes up, call me. Email me once you’re done."
I slunk into my chair, surprisingly disappointed by his absence.
“Eat, Anshi. You look frail," chided Sara, my older sister. Dressed in an elegant, shimmering-white full-length dress, she didn't look like a mother of two. Granted she was only thirty-one, but one look at her and men would be ready to abandon their fortunes to be with her. She was also the perfect one - everyone's favorite, especially Dad's.
"I am not hungry, di," I replied, making sure that I didn't forget my manners. I always addressed her as di, the elder sister. While Nisha and I were close enough to forget our differences in age, Sara was the golden child, and somehow distanced from the natural friendship that Nisha and I had developed. Sara was more motherly, the stricter kind - a stickler for rules and loyalty. She was also the one who sided with Dad when it came to me. Unlike Nisha.
With pursed lips, Sara added a bit more dal on my white rice. The thick lentil gravy slid down and I mixed it in with the rice with my fork. There really was no point in denying Sara the chance to boss me around. She motioned the waiter to take the empty utensil away, and I attempted to take another bite. I looked at my watch once again. I still had a few minutes before I could excuse myself from this forced sisterly reunion.
"Yes, another twenty minutes. Then you can leave."
I looked up, annoyed. "Why did you agree to gramma's plan if it pains you so much to meet me?" I didn’t want to throw a tantrum as expected, but her know-it-all attitude was grating. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. Even in annoyance, she looked pretty.
"Because...Gramma's right. It's been too long since we did this, " she said, waving her finger at the space between us, "and I am sorry about it. I am the older one and I should have tried harder." She looked down at her empty plate, arranging already neatly ordered cutlery on the table in an even neater row. I was at loss for words. She had actually confessed to not being perfect, and that must have cost her a lot.
"Um...is everything okay?" I was surprised that her dampened demeanor bothered me, since I spent most of my life jealous of her ability to excel at everything, so unlike me.
She looked away, blinking profusely. Was she...was she crying? I held her hand from across the table and she looked at me, misty-eyed.
"It's nothing. I feel...feel really sorry about the way I was with you in the past. I should have been there for you. But I was so angry. Just so angry."
"Your anger was justified. I verbally abused at least half of the guests at your wedding, not to forget the amount of booze I had."
She cringed, and I was sure she was recalling the embarrassing incident in detail.
"The look on Tina Aunty's face was priceless though,” she said. “I never saw her lecturing other girls on culture again. What a bore she always was!" We shared a smile, a weird kinship forming between us on a topic I never dreamed of discussing with Sara. "But I wasn't angry about that. I was angry at the way you were ruining yourself. You were in self-destruct mode, and all I saw was what a disgrace you were to the family."
I stiffened automatically, withdrawing my hand from hers. She sounded exactly like she always did before - cold and perfect.
"It's only now I realize how easy it is to judge--to not care to help, but still judge." She reached out to me, her fingers touching my palm tentatively. "I worry about you, Anshi. I am sorry I was a bad sister before but I did worry about you then. And I do worry about you now."
"I am fine. I haven't gone back to my old ways." She swallowed eying my glass of water, probably as terrified of a relapse as I was. She patted my hand, then withdrew hers.
"Let me know if you need any help from me. I have more...free time now than before." The word free rolled off her tongue as distastefully as she looked saying it. I nodded, adding it to the list of things I needed to ask Nisha about Sara's change in demeanor. "I heard you got a job."
I almost choked on my lentils and rice. "Who told you that?"
"Nisha did. I spoke to her yesterday and she mentioned you were working for Ryan. Be careful with that guy. I have heard he is a bit of a womanizer."
"He is not that bad, actually. In fact, he is more of a gentleman than all the men I have dated ‘til now." I was defending Ryan for reasons unknown to me, but Sara insulting him based on rumors she heard felt wrong.
"Hmm." She looked over her glass at me as she sipped her champagne.
"What does that hmm mean?" I asked, putting my spoon down on the plate. She gave me a sly smile and looked over at the menu.
"Want to order a dessert? I am dying for some chocolate mousse." I shook my head and looked at my watch again.
"I have to leave, actually. I need to finish up my report and deliver it to Ryan by tomorrow."
"Oh...do you need help?"
There was a time in the past when Sara had offered her help and I had resented her for it. It made me feel weak and incompetent. But today, her voice had held no pity, just pure regret.
"Thank you. But I have found ways to cope with it. I really appreciate the offer, though, di", I said with a smile. I knew she was thinking about the past, and I hoped she understood that I didn’t hold it against her. She smiled back.
"Okay. Then, let's finish dessert before you leave. And I expect you to finish your plate before you begin the dessert." I groaned at her bossiness. Some things never changed. But I was already looking forward to my next dinner with her.
It was past midnight by the time I finished jotting down my ideas. I was excited about some of them, and felt they would go really well with the company’s brand. As soon as I was done, I wanted to email Ryan. But I didn’t have his address. Without a second thought, I texted him.
What's your email address?
I made my bed and was about to slip under the covers when my phone beeped with a text message.
[email protected]. You were working this late?
I am a hard worker and my boss is a slave driver.
I don’t remember your boss demanding anything. And if he did, he should be fired. It’s harassment. Ask for a raise.
I smiled as I read the last text. The fact that I was actually texting him long past civilized hours didn’t escape me. I definitely shouldn't be doing this with my boss.
I will let him know tomorrow.
The three dots danced on the screen as he typed a reply. And then, they stopped. I bit my lip, curious to see his reply. But when I didn’t get one for a few seconds, I put the phone down on my bedside. I pulled the blanket up to my neck and had reached to switch off the bedside lamp when my phone beeped again. I snatched the phone up to see if he texted.
I just talked to your boss. He said he will treat you for lunch tomorrow. Dress nice. :)
I blushed in spite of myself. I put the phone away and pulled the blanket over my head. I had to find a way to not let Ryan charm his way into my heart.
10
Anshi
The aromas made my stomach grumble, but I waited for my father to take his seat at the head of the
table. I tried not to fidget, and pressed on my hands, which I had tucked under me to keep from grabbing one of the hot naans. Normally, I would have eaten dinner in my room, but I walked right in at Jain family dinner time. and if someone sees you around the house at dinner time, you have no option but to be present at the table. I was in the midst of my daily ritual of speed-walking from the front door to my room when I was caught by Gramma.
Gramma or no Gramma, food or no food, I would have declined if not for my father’s booming voice from the top of the stairs asking me to join them. I hesitated, then mumbled an okay. I was tired from the supposedly “low-key” celebration of my first successful design with Ryan and the team. There had been booze, laughter and lots of dancing. A bit too much laughter with Ryan, I might add. I liked it though. My cheeks flamed again, the feel of his hands on my waist a memory I didn’t anticipate forgetting any time soon.
A smile hovered over my lips and I tamped it down. The party had left me tired and hungry. Worried about the urge to grab on one of the beers, I stayed away from the bar completely. No drinks. No food. But it wasn’t until I was on my way home that I realized how hungry I was.
I gave a tentative smile to Gramma. As soon as the food was served, I hastened to tear a piece of naan and dip it in the warm lentil soup. I almost moaned at the first burst of flavors in my mouth.
“You look starved.”
My hand froze over the next piece of naan at the sudden intrusion of my dad’s comment.
“I...didn’t have lunch.” I cleared my throat and tore another piece of bread slowly.
“Working too hard?” The subtle taunt in his voice was hard to miss. I pursed my lips, focusing on chewing instead. “I didn’t expect Ryan to give you a job. Nisha probably didn’t give him a choice, after all.”
My ears turned hot and I swallowed.
“Nisha has nothing to do with my job. Ryan gave me the offer at her wedding.”
My father sat straighter, a gleam of interest shining. “Was he impressed by your resume?”
“I...no. We were chatting and…” He smirked, and I looked down at my plate, feeling hot all over.
“So, a favor then.” He picked up his fork and knife and cut his vegetables methodically.
“It wasn’t a favor.”
“There were a hundred single women at the wedding. Why did he offer you the role if not for Nisha or Arav putting in a good word? You have nothing to show for experience or academics, Anshi. The sooner you understand how the world works, the better.”
I breathed in and out. Slowly. I didn’t want to give in to my father’s insinuations but it was hard not to. Today I had celebrated my first accomplishment at work - the client loved my designs.
I grabbed the fork and stabbed a pea with vengeance. I will not give in.
“Why were you late today?” I stopped abruptly and met his eyes. I had no idea he was keeping tabs on my comings and goings.
“I am an adult, dad. I don’t need to answer to you.” An extra edge of hardness fell over his eyes, if that were at all possible.
“An adult?” He dabbed on his mouth with his napkin and glared at me. “An adult wouldn’t need favors to get her first job at the age of 28. Nor would she come home smelling of alcohol. And an adult would definitely not live with her parents.”
I stood abruptly, the chair screeching on the shiny hardwood. My chest was heaving with anger and I feared the next words I utter would haunt me forever. Gramma sat stunned at the exchange, looking from one of us to the other.
“You -” I pointed at my Dad, instinctively knowing it was inappropriate. My finger shook with anger a frustration borne by years of unresolved animosity between us. “You wanted to get rid of me from the moment mom died. I grant you your wish tonight. I am leaving this house.”
“You are not getting a penny out of me if you walk out of those doors.”
I whirled around, in the middle of the stairs.
“You really think I am sticking around for your money? I thought you would be happy that I returned, and that I’m working at a real job. But….I give up.” My hands flailed in the air, trying to wordlessly express my heartbreak. Tears streamed down my face, leaving shameful hot trails. “I don’t get why you hate me so much. I know I am not perfect like Sara or smart like Nisha but I am not as stupid as you think I am.”
A sob broke through Gramma. I wanted to go comfort her, but my feet were rooted to the spot, and just the thought of going anywhere near my father disgusted me. He stood at the head of the table, his face red with anger.
“No. You are not stupid. You just decided to throw away everything your mother taught you.”
There was roaring in my head, the kind that deafens you to everything else.
“I didn’t. You ignored me. Even when I needed you.”
“I thought you were like your mother. Strong. You were supposed to be the strongest of all three. You were not supposed to need me.” His voice thundered in the room. He gave me a disparaging laugh. “I was so wrong. You are nothing like her.” I flinched at his words.
Hunger and exhaustion forgotten, I raced upstairs. I packed up my suitcase, bleary-eyed with hot anger as my companion. Stuffing my laptop in my backpack, I straightened to look around my childhood room. I hadn’t planned to stay here forever as Dad implied but it still hurt to leave the place. Bitter memories of the last time I left the house welled up in my heart and I wiped my tears away forcefully. I had had enough.
I rushed out of the room, racing down the stairs. I heard a commotion. --Gramma was giving my dad an earful, --but I could feel his disappointment through the walls, leeching onto my skin. I broke into a run once I crossed the front door, then headed quickly down the never-ending drive way of the very few remaining mansions in the city. The massive wrought-iron gates opened on their accord as I got closer, and I mumbled a thank-you to the security guard.
I started walking, joining the crowd of New York within a few minutes. I blinked often to clear my blurry vision. My suitcase dragged behind me, the drab screech of the wheels on the concrete a hum in my body.
I wandered the busy sidewalks, losing myself in the anonymous nature of the New York streets, not worrying about anything other than keeping pace with the crowd. I tried to reel my thoughts into the present, but echoes of the years of my dad’s disappointment slammed into me again and again. I wasn’t an easy child, especially after mom’s death. But I never seemed to get better in his eyes, no matter how much I tried.
Old hurts surged up, taking my breath away. I had run away from home with my best friend at the age of 16. Got arrested for drunk driving at 19 and again at 24...shame blurred my view again. Somehow that wasn’t the worst. The worst was the infamous daughter of Kamlesh Jain, hot in passion, grinding hips at a party, the moment recorded to live forever on the internet. It didn’t matter that the video had since been relegated to the back pages of internet search engines after my dad pulled every possible string to bury it. Nothing was erased forever on the world wide web.
And yet, I got erased from the family, their memory of their black sheep fading as I spent years in rehab in the suburbs of Chicago, away from the media limelight and my Dad’s disappointed gaze. Away from a family I loved to wither away, year after year falling deeper into the ruin of my life.
It was a miracle that I made it out of that place at all. First it was Nisha, her wobbly voice over the phone begging me to get better soon so I could be there for her at her wedding. My dear younger sister was probably the last one who had clung to hope for me, and even that was fraying at the edges. Her phone call was a kick in my gut, and I resolved to get better.
And then, I met Ryan at her engagement party. He had noticed me like no other person had, so tuned-in to my feelings that he took my breath away. His note had asked me to dream. And a small dream was born that night. A dream to make it on my own. Turn myself from a disappointment to something more. To get my Dad to look at me the same way he had done before my mom had died.<
br />
That all seemed impossible now. The chasm was too deep. Was it too late?
I wiped my eyes again, taking in where I stopped finally. I stood in front of my office, my legs taking me to my place of refuge, the only place that brought me any dignity in my adult life. I looked around and found the crowd thinning. It was past ten at night. Night-time occupants of these streets had started to amble their way on to the sidewalks
I clutched at my suitcase nervously and walked to the building entrance. The man at the front desk raised his eyebrows, but when I showed my work badge, he went back to playing on his phone. I took a seat in the lobby, unsure of what to do next.
I considered moving into a hotel for the night. There was one a couple of blocks from the office, but it might cost me an arm and a leg. Maybe I could camp at the office upstairs. Hope propelled me forward and I strode towards the elevator when the guy at the front desk stopped me.
“Miss? Where are you going?” I turned to him, puzzled as to why the barriers wouldn’t open when I swiped my access card.
“To my office.” I swiped the card again.
“We close the building after eight unless we have written authorization from the company,” he said. “I don’t have any authorizations for today.” He checked his computer again.
“Oh. Um...this was rather unplanned. Let me see if I can get that,” I mumbled while walking back to my seat.
Reluctantly, I fished my phone out of my jacket. Should I really call him up for this? I eyed the couch I was sitting on and then the guy at the front desk. Would he let me sleep here? I bit the inside of my cheek, weighing whether it was better to get thrown out of the building or swallow my pride and call Ryan to let me into the office. I sighed and dialed Ryan’s number. I almost chickened out after the third ring, and I was about to hang up when I heard him answer.
“Hey.” I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms as his sleepy voice filtered through the phone.
Love by Surprise Page 6
