There's Something About Sweetie

by Sandhya Menon

  Ma beamed, and Pappa said, “I knew it! I told you, Ashish, my ideas are—”

  Ma cut him off with a look that Ashish couldn’t see from his vantage. When she turned back around, she was beaming again. “Wonderful. I’m so happy to hear that.” She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “So the mandir wasn’t too boring for you?”

  Ashish took a breath. “No, weirdly enough. It was nice. Peaceful. And the Holi Festival was awesome.” He grinned at the memories. “Sweetie’s hair … I don’t know if she’ll want to go back to just plain black anymore.”

  “So! One might even say that your parents picked the best girl!” Pappa said, brandishing his spatula like a sword. “Compare Sweetie to Celia and—”

  “Kartik.” Ma shook her head and sighed. “Ashish, ignore your Pappa. I’m sure Celia was very nice.”

  Ashish smiled, but it was a faded, left-out-in-the-sun-too-long version of his real smile. Celia. They’d finally talked after that night with Sweetie on the basketball court. Ashish’s heart legit cramped at the way he’d hidden this (temporarily) from Sweetie—the purest, most honest person he’d ever known in his life. He knew he had his reasons, but just thinking about it made him feel sick deep in the pit of his stomach, like he was coming down with the flu.

  “What shall we bring?” Pappa asked, and Ashish realized they’d been talking to him while he was zoned out.

  “Sorry?” he said.

  “For Sweetie’s birthday party,” Pappa said, and clucked his tongue. “I think a nice DVD of that movie Sixteen Candles. All teenage girls love that movie!”

  “Kartik, I already told you, that movie is well before Sweetie’s time,” Ma said, laughing. She turned to Ashish. “Do teenagers watch DVDs anymore?”

  “Ashish, tell her Sixteen Candles is the diggity!” Pappa said, serving up the kebabs and burger-bricks onto plates.

  “Pappa,” Ashish said, massaging his temples. “It’s ‘the bomb diggity.’ And no one says that anymore. And I don’t even know what Sixteen Candles is. I have to side with Ma here, sorry.”

  Ma grinned triumphantly.

  “Besides,” Ashish continued. “This is all a moot point. You guys can’t come.”

  Ma’s grin fell off her face. “What?”

  “Why not!” Pappa said, setting the plates down on the little table in the gazebo. “Sweetie will enjoy seeing us.”

  “Doesn’t she like us, beta?” Ma said quietly, and Ashish wanted to smack himself for being so insensitive.

  “No, of course she does,” Ashish said. After a pause he added, “Actually, I don’t think there’s anyone she actively dislikes. But, um, I think it’ll be better this way. I’ll get to meet her parents, charm them, get them on my side, you know? If you’re there, I’ll just be nervous.”

  “Of course,” Ma said, patting his cheek. “You’ll win them over so quickly, they won’t even remember they had any objections in the first place! Isn’t that right, Kartik?”

  They both turned to look at Pappa. He pulled a bell pepper (“capsicum,” as he called it) off the kebab stick, grunted, and said wryly, “Be sure to bring a very, very nice present.”

  “I’m no Rishi,” Ashish said suddenly, and Ma looked at him in surprise. Pappa continued to chomp down on his veggies like a giant, oblivious rabbit. “I know that. I’m not going to charm her parents like …” He paused, wondering if he was really saying this. And then decided, Yep, what the hell? “Like Rishi charmed Dimple’s before he even met them,” he said in a rush, not meeting their eye. “But I have to try, you know? I really like Sweetie.”

  “Beta, you are every bit as charming as Rishi,” Ma said, looking concerned. “You must never think otherwise.”

  Ashish looked at Pappa, but he was still focused intently on his food and didn’t say anything. Because he didn’t hear or because he had nothing to say? “Right,” Ashish said, smiling at Ma for her benefit. “Sure.”

  “So you have everything ready like I asked?” Ashish asked Gita Kaki on the phone, pacing his bedroom the next morning. “Every single thing?”

  Gita Kaki’s voice squawked in his ear. “Yes, yes, beta. How many times I have to tell you?”

  “Okay, thanks. Because we’ll be there in just over an hour.”

  “Haan, haan, see you then. Oh, and Rishi, I have made aloo palak for you, your favorite!”

  Ashish put a hand to his forehead. “No, Rishi is—I’m not—okay. I’ll see you soon!” He hung up and slipped the cell phone into his pocket. Well, this was going to be interesting, anyway. If the worst thing Gita Kaki did was call him Rishi and force-feed him aloo palak (Seriously, yuck. Who the heck liked potatoes and spinach together?) during the visit, he’d consider himself lucky.

  He was running downstairs to meet Sweetie outside—her car had just pulled up—when his cell phone pinged.

  He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. It was Celia.

  You told me to tell you when I was in Atherton next. I’ll be there on Thursday. Seemed important. Wanna meet up?

  Ashish stared at the words for a long minute. Yes, he typed quickly, an idea taking root. I have a thing that night though. Meet at 9:30?

  The response came immediately. K, Bedwell?

  Bedwell Bayfront Park was where Ashish and Celia had had their three-month anniversary date. It was where … well, where a significant turning point in their relationship was reached. He took a deep breath. Sounds good.

  Then he put his phone away, squashed the guilt churning in his stomach at keeping this from Sweetie, and walked out the front door. This is good, Ash, he told himself firmly. It’s time.

  Seeing Sweetie smiling up at him through her windshield felt like standing in a hot shower right after getting soaked in cold rain. It was blissful; it solidified his resolve about what he needed to do Thursday night. When she turned off her car, he opened her door and pulled her out gently by her arm. Then he enveloped her in a giant hug and sniffed the top of her head. “Ahhhh. Just what I needed. Peppermint shampoo.”

  She laughed and batted him away. “Okay, that’s not weird at all.”

  “It’s like crack. It’s my Sweetie crack. It’s Swack!” Ashish pulled her to him again and inhaled deeply.

  She was laughing so hard now, she couldn’t catch her breath. Watching her like that, Ashish began to laugh too. Finally they pulled apart, and he stood there, smiling at her. “Okay. You ready to get this show on the road?”

  She nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  They walked to the garage together, hand in hand, and he opened the passenger-side door to the Porsche. Then he paused. “Hey.”

  She looked up at him quizzically.

  “You want to drive?”

  Her eyes got wide and a smile began to seep slowly across her lovely face. Ashish could watch that forever. On time lapse. “Seriously? You’d let me drive your Porsche?”

  He rolled his eyes to distract from how much he loved just staring at her like a creeper. “I don’t think we’re in any danger of the Porsche getting wrapped around a tree at the rate you go, let’s be honest. I’m more worried we’ll run out of gas before you get us there.” He tossed her the keys. “It’s a push button, but you can hold on to those. They’ll make you feel more legit.”

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, walking over to the driver’s side. “I cannot believe I’m holding the keys to a freaking Porsche in my hand. Or that I’m going to be driving one.”

  Ashish laughed as Sweetie climbed into the driver’s seat, gawking at the onboard navigation system and the sleek seats.

  Sliding into the passenger side, Ashish reached over and kissed her cheek. “Ready to drive your first Porsche?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He watched her as she backed out of the garage, feeling little pinpricks of guilt about the text he’d sent earlier. Ashish hated keeping this from Sweetie. But this was for the greater good. He had a course of action. Meet up with Celia, say his piece, hopefully get some peace.

  Was h
e certain that would happen? That he wouldn’t, once he saw Celia, suddenly become a blithering high school man-baby? No, he wasn’t sure of those things at all. In fact, he was fairly terrified that he’d see Celia and realize, Hey, forget getting closure, I could never even hope to orbit around closure’s atmosphere. But that didn’t matter. He still had to try.

  “So, does this Gita Kaki have any kids of her own?” Sweetie asked once they were on Highway 82.

  “No, and that probably explains why she’s constantly confusing Rishi and me,” Ashish said. “Actually, I stand corrected: She thinks both Rishi and I are Rishi. Clearly, she has a favorite.”

  Sweetie laughed. “No way. How could anyone like Rishi over you?”

  Ashish pretended to preen. “Hey, a guy could get used to flattery like that. Especially since pretty much everyone in my family prefers Rishi over me.”

  Sweetie darted a sideways glance at him. “You wanna know what I’m thinking?”

  “You’re thinking how this Porsche is the sweetest, smoothest ride you’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering,” Ashish said.

  Sweetie rolled her eyes. “Actually, I was thinking how you say Rishi’s the golden child and people prefer him over you lightly and kind of sarcastically, but it seems like it bothers you more than you let on.” She paused. “Do you … do you think it’s true? That he’s better than you somehow?”

  Ashish looked out the window for a moment. Sweetie had a way of doing that, just getting to the core of things. It unbalanced him somewhat. Ashish liked to think he had the world by its throat. He was always one step ahead. Some people preferred Rishi—yeah, that was true, but it was okay because Ashish already knew it and expected it. But Sweetie … she said things in her soft, observant way. It made him feel like there was an empty part of him waiting to be filled, and he didn’t even know with what or how he was supposed to feel about that.

  He cleared his throat. “I guess. But it doesn’t bother me.”

  Sweetie didn’t say anything. She just reached over and put one hand on his knee.

  “It doesn’t,” Ashish said more forcefully.

  “Okay,” she said amicably. “But just so you know, I don’t think that. At all.”

  “But you’ve never met Rishi.”

  “I don’t have to meet Rishi to know that I like you best of all.” She grinned at him, completely disarming his defensiveness. “Okeydokey?”

  He reached over and put one hand on the back of her neck, stroking the soft skin there. “Okeydokey,” he agreed. Ashish didn’t even laugh at how totally dorky it sounded. He was too busy feeling happy.

  CHAPTER 25

  Gita Kaki lived in a luxury apartment complex overlooking the water. They parked underground in the visitor space and got out, stretching their limbs. Ashish walked around to grab Sweetie’s hand, marveling at how natural it felt. It was only their third contracted date, but it felt like he’d known her a lot longer. Like if she started hanging out with his crew tomorrow, she’d fit right in with zero awkwardness.

  Then he remembered his conversation with Gita Kaki and how he was counting on the least countable member of his family for something pretty important today, and felt his blood pressure rising. He didn’t realize he was squeezing Sweetie’s hand until she yelped. “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing her hand gently. “Are you okay?”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, but … are you?”

  “Sure, sure. Totally fine.” He forced himself to kiss her temple in a casual way. “Ready to meet some more of my ‘interesting’ family?” And hopefully be wooed off your pretty feet?

  Sweetie bumped him lightly with her shoulder. “You don’t have to say ‘interesting’ like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you really mean ‘bizarre in the creepiest way.’ I’m sure Gita Kaki’s perfectly nice, her penchant for calling you Rishi aside.”

  He grinned as they got on the elevator and he pushed the button for the penthouse. “I’m so gonna enjoy saying ‘I told you so.’”

  As they traveled upward, Sweetie laughed suddenly.

  “What?” he asked, smiling too. It was like her smile had a magnet that instantly attracted his smile magnet and … no, never mind. That analogy sucked. But seriously, the girl’s smile was irresistible.

  “I just realized everyone in your family is apparently ridiculously rich. Like, what’s that about?”

  He laughed. “I assure you, that’s not true. Gita Kaki just happens to be another exception. Most of my other family is very middle class. Gita Kaki’s husband, my Shankar Kaka, was an executive over at Google or someplace—I forget. Anyway, when he died, she inherited this apartment. They’ve owned it forever. My dad says none of her money’s liquid, though.”

  “Yeah, because I totally know what that means.” Sweetie laughed. “Oh my God, you’re such a one-percenter and you don’t even know it.”

  Ashish chuckled. “No, no, I’m not totally clueless. I know I’m rich. But I like to think I’m also down-to-earth.”

  “Oh yeah? Okay, quick, how much does a gallon of milk cost?”

  Ashish stared at her, trying to keep his face neutral. Crap. Milk. Dang it, he should know that. But the problem was, their housekeeper, Myrna, did all the shopping. He didn’t think he should share that little tidbit with Sweetie, though. Oh, come on. Just throw out a number, Ash. Jeez. “Like … twelve dollars?”

  Sweetie stared at him. The elevator pinged right into Gita Kaki’s foyer just as she burst out laughing. “You … think … milk … costs … twelve …” She lost it and began to guffaw again.

  Ashish began to laugh too. “What? Is that too cheap?”

  Sweetie lost it. She was turning a rather alarming shade of purple when Gita Kaki walked up to them. Frowning, she said, “Rishi, why is Dimple laughing so much?”

  Ashish lost it too.

  When they were both relatively calm, he did the introductions. “Gita Kaki, this is my friend Sweetie.” It was an unspoken rule that you never introduced your girlfriends as girlfriends to the elders in your family; that was too unseemly. It had been drilled into Ashish since he was little, and from the totally unconcerned expression on Sweetie’s face, he guessed her parents had a similar rule. It was kinda nice, actually. None of his other girlfriends—on the few occasions they’d run across someone in his family—had ever understood that. “Sweetie, this is Gita Kaki.”

  She folded her hands together. “Namaskar, auntie.”

  Gita Kaki responded in kind. “Namaskar.”

  They followed her into the living room. The entire far wall was made up of windows with a sweeping view of blue water.

  “Wow,” Sweetie breathed, walking up. “This is so beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Gita Kaki said, smiling approvingly. She loved nothing more than being complimented on her apartment, her most prized possession. And, according to Pappa, one of her only remaining possessions worth anything. “Shankar and I bought it when they first built this building. We were the first ones to sign on the dotted line. The architect was a very good friend. Can I get you anything? Juice?”

  “I’d love a juice, auntie,” Sweetie said, turning. “Can I help you get it?”

  “No, don’t worry,” Gita Kaki said, already turning away. “Rishi, pani?”

  Ashish rolled his eyes behind her back. “I’ll have a Pepsi if you have one, Kaki.”

  She nodded and kept walking.

  “The bad thing about her confusing me with Rishi is that she thinks I have all his gross eating and drinking habits too. Everything vegetarian, only water, the guy even likes spinach.”

  “So by ‘gross’ you mean ‘healthy,’” Sweetie clarified, coming to sit by him on the couch.

  He snorted. “If you want to call it that.” He turned to her after checking that Gita Kaki was still gone. “Hey, fair warning—don’t, um, stare when she shows you her … pet room.”

  Sweetie raised her eyebrows. “She has a pet room? What kin
ds of pets?”

  But before Ashish could respond, Gita Kaki was back with their drinks on a silver tray.

  They’d each drunk a few sips when Gita Kaki said, “So, Dimple. You’ve put some meat on your bones at college!”

  Ashish froze, horror-struck. Oh God, no. “Gita Kaki,” he said firmly. “This is Sweetie. And she’s perfect as she is.” Sweetie looked really uncomfortable. She wouldn’t even meet his eye. Burning with anger, he took her hand.

  “Sweetie?” Gita Kaki frowned. “What happened to Dimple?”

  Ashish sighed. “I’m not Rishi. I’m Ashish. Sunita and Kartik’s second son. Remember?”

  Gita Kaki laughed. “Oh, yes, yes, of course! I’m sorry. You know, my spectacles aren’t … uh …” She trailed off and took a sip of what looked like mango juice. “She’s very pretty,” Gita Kaki said suddenly. “I always like when women have curves. It’s real! Not like those spaghetti noodles!”

  “Um, yes,” Ashish said, feeling his cheeks heat. “Me too.” What a freaking weird-ass conversation. He sneaked a glance at Sweetie and saw her trying to hold back a smile as she sipped her juice. Well, now was as good a time as any, he guessed. “So, Gita Kaki. I was wondering if Sweetie and I could visit your, uh, pets?”

  Sweetie looked at him in surprise, probably wondering what was going on. He tried to hold back his grin. Ha. Ha, ha, ha! She’d see soon enough.

  “My pets …,” Gita Kaki said wonderingly. Then her gaze sharpened. “Ashish.”

  He waited, but there didn’t seem to be any more forthcoming. “Uh … yes?”

  “Do you know what the next big thing is going to be in courier services?”

  Courier … services? What the heck? This was so not the steal-the-keys-to-Sweetie’s-heart plan they’d discussed on the phone. He raised his eyebrows. “No?”

  “Parrots.” Gita Kaki nodded firmly. “Yes.”

  Ashish and Sweetie exchanged a glance.

  “Parrots?” Sweetie asked, still polite as ever, as if this were all totally normal. Ashish wondered when she’d make a run for it.