All My Life
Page 3
“Yeah. Khomphletely okhay.”
“Whatever happened?” Nalini asks, as she takes the empty glass from my hands.
“Uh…umm…I thinfp I din’th realize how hoth the coffee waz.”
Nalini arches an eyebrow. “Hot, huh? You sure you’re talking about the coffee?” Cheeks flaming, I give her the full force of my death stare.
The guy bobs his head between us, completely clueless of the dirty insinuations flying over his head. Then he turns to me. “You sure you’re okay?” His voice is deep, crisp, with an early morning raspiness to it that inflicts a serious bout of shakes and quakes in my tummy. Ugh. What does he have for breakfast? Gravel?
“Yeah, zzure. Vfanks,” I croak out and hop down from the bed table. That’s when I notice the mess I’ve made on the floor. Shards of glass and coffee puddled all over the place. I head towards the kitchenette to get the mop and just as I step inside, I hear Nalini asking him her favorite question. “Ink or metal?” The uncharacteristically sweet lilt in her voice makes me grin.
“Neither. Is Agnas around?”
My curiosity perks up. How does he know Agnas?
“Nope. She’ll be back at noon. Can I help you?” The strange sugary voice she’s using on him is so unlike her that I start wondering whether I should call Josiah for some back-up.
“Yeah, I need the keys to upstairs.”
I decide not to eavesdrop from the kitchenette anymore. The mad kisser didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon.
Wiper, dust pan and mop in hand, I head over to the carnage that had been my morning cup of coffee and proceed to clean it all up.
“I know you’re famous but why do you think I’ll trust you with Agnas’s keys?” From the corner of my eye, I see Nalini planting her hands on her hips. Uh-oh. Sarcasm and postulation. Not good.
“I’m her son.” Nalini’s mouth falls open and I’m sure my jaw is touching the floor as well. But at least when he shifts his eyes in my direction, I manage to close my mouth and snap my head back. Nalini, however, is a lot less restrained in her emotions. “Shut-up! You’re shittin’ me!!”
He grants her a smile. “Nope, I’m pretty sure.”
Nalini scratches her forehead. “But you see…I don’t have the keys on me. So what I can do is call Agnas and…tell her to rush back….yusss!” She takes out her cell phone and punches a button. “I wonder why she’s never mentioned you before? Has she said anything to you?”
The mad kisser shifts his eyes to me.
“Uh…not really. No,” I stutter.
In spite of my damning answer, mad kisser gives me a tortuously slow smile. Strong jaw, broken disproportionate nose, rich olive skin and dark chocolate for eyes, his smile is full of alluring, irresistible promises. Hundred per cent asshat material, my brain screams.
“No luck. Her voice-mail’s on.” Nalini shrugs and shoves the phone back in her pocket.
“So then…what do we do?” mad kisser asks, shrugging the wedges that make up for his shoulders. I study him through the corner of my eyes as he folds his arms across his chest. My eyes rest on the way his sleeves tighten over the flexing muscles underneath. Ah! He’s one of those. Guys who want their stomachs to look like a stack of bread rolls. No judgement. But just why?
I wonder what he must think of me? Faded jeans, loose sweatshirt, pale complexion, limp blonde hair and a whole lot of boring.
Well, not exactly aiming to be the Aphrodite to his Adonis, am I? Humph.
“Maybe you can sit on the couch and wait,” I spurt out in my meanest voice, just short of being bitchy. I have to maintain that much leeway. What if he really turns out to be my boss’s son?
“Uh-uh. That’s what. Get cozy on the couch, have some coffee and wait for Agnas,” Nalini tells him, while throwing me a WTF look. Well, I don’t know what just got into me either.
The mad kisser plonks himself on the sofa and I turn to my scrubbing, trying to divert myself by thinking about the long list of incomplete submissions that are hurdling my path to the perfect grade. Saturday and Sunday evenings are the only free time I get now and I have to make full use of that. I’m busy making a mental list of all my pending projects when a hand lands on my shoulder and makes me jump a few feet high.
“Hey! Easy!”
I swing around to find the mad kisser standing right behind me with a grin stretched wide on his face. Close-up and clear-headed his gorgeousness is even more impossible to ignore. Wow…just wow. Now, how unfair is this? As if his rock star looks were not enough! No, he’s also got this uber-hot hair. It’s glossy black and reaches his shoulders in an unkempt scruffy mess. I control the sudden urge to run my fingers through it. Then I make a mental note of two things.
One, he’s obviously the kind of guy who can make any girl lose her inhibitions.
Second, I am not going to be that girl.
No, I am not.
Definitely.
“I just wanted to help,” he says taking the wiper from my stiff, unrelenting hands. Much too close. He’s too close…and he smells of sultry summer nights. Woodsy, sharp and lemony fresh.
My mind jolts back to reality as he starts scrubbing over the last few puddles of coffee.
“Oh! You don’t need to!” I exclaim and run after him as he carries off all the cleaning equipment back into the kitchenette. I find him standing there looking uncertainly at the row of cabinets.
“Where’s the can?”
I open the cabinet below the sink and watch him as he empties the dust pan. I watch the way his arms flex as he lifts the wiper, the way he flicks his hair away from his face, the way his God-like persona is so completely ill-fitted for such a mundane normal activity. Jesus! What’s wrong with me? I don’t even know this guy for Christ’s sake! And here I am, setting myself up for disappointment all over again. No. No more of this. I have to focus on paying off Eddie and getting through college. That’s it. I don’t need these stupid distractions and these temperamental wayward thoughts. Especially, not over someone who’d been all over another girl not ten minutes ago!
“You want a cup of coffee?” I offer, wanting to pay him back for his help.
He grins. “No thanks. I haven’t inherited Agnas’s addiction for it.”
Well, if he knows that then he’s definitely close to her. Though I can’t ever imagine calling my Mom by her name. It would be a sure-fire way of inducing one of her freak-out episodes. Right then the door dings again and I throw a polite smile at the mad kisser before going out to check.
It’s not Agnas. Just a regular. Over the last month he’s had his bicep tattooed, ears stretched, even his nose and eyebrows pierced. Whatever he is in for today, I really don’t want to know. To be honest, I try to stay away from all the piercing action. It completely freaks me out. The grunts, the squawking, the ‘breathe in and let it out’ chants, the clients with skin outgrowths, scar tissue. Yikes! I can’t imagine why someone would do that to their body. Of course, working where I do, I keep all these patronizing thoughts to myself.
The weird guy starts looking over the jewelry portfolio that Nalini has handed over to him.
“Sadist, you think?” The mad kisser comes to stand beside me and even though I kinda agree with him, I bite back, “It’s art, you know?”
He smirks. “Is that so?”
Boss’s son. Boss’s son. I chant in my mind and succeed in giving him just a wan smile in response.
It’s strange but as the piercing-obsessed guy comes over to the bed-table, he happens to glance in our direction and does a complete double take. Feeling conscious, I discreetly check whether my bra straps are showing or if I’ve accidentally left my fly open or grown a third arm. Nope. None of the above. Then what’s the deal with the dude? At least he’s not looking anymore. His attention got diverted as soon as Nalini got him another folder stacked with the piercing snap shots. Right. Time to earn a living and pay off my blackmail dues.
Ignoring the weird guy and the mad kisser, I walk over to the other bed
table, load the machine and start practicing.
This time I choose a design I really like. A wispy feather with ‘One day, I’ll fly away’ scrolled across. It looks simple but it’s a tough one to see through. The rib of the feather, its each and every strand, requires not just skill but a truckload of patience. This will be my fourth attempt. I put on my earplugs and tune out the world.
I stumbled across this band one Sunday evening while spending an inordinate amount of time on the internet. Now, they’ve sort of become my catharsis. The song starts playing and its words fill my mind.
Stack my dreams away for some time,
I’m so lost in time.
My body is trapped in a bind,
So lost in time.
Why did they take away what’s mine?
I’m just so lost in time.
An hour down, I put the last finishing touches to the design and once I’m satisfied, I unplug the machine.
I remove the earplugs, straighten my back, stretch my neck and look around. Nalini’s long done with the weird guy. Half an hour back I’d watched him leave, gingerly feeling the two extra rings pierced in his eyebrows. Wow, a few more and he’d be up for the book of records. Then I remember the mad kisser. I turn my head towards the couch to check what he’s up to. My breath hitches as my eyes land on him.
Hands folded behind his head, the mad kisser is staring straight at me. And just like before, his unflinching gaze makes me weak, trembly and electrified, everything all at once. His eyes seem to be baring my mind, unraveling my each and every thought and…I really need to say something! NOW…before my heart jackhammers out of my chest! Think quick! Say anything, Kari! Anything!! “Your…name?!”
He doesn’t answer me straight away and even though I manage to suck in a breath, I’m unable to break his hypnotic stare. At least not until he drags his hands down over his face and takes a deep breath himself. God Almighty. So this is what it’s like? Being so intensely attracted to someone? I try to remember if I’d felt the same way when I’d met Eddie.
I do remember feeling special when I’d gone out with him and my body feeling queasy, craving something more when he’d kissed me that first time. But then. That happened. And over the last year, I’ve had my blinkers on so tight no guy has been able to elicit this kind of a response from me. Till today. Till now. And this? What I’m feeling? It’s not just lust. It’s an awareness of him that goes much deeper. Like I’ve known he would be coming all my life or something. Ohmigod! I have completely lost my fucking mind! Get rid of this fuckall sappy attitude right now, Kari. Aim higher. Think yellow tracksuits, kick-ass swords, boxing gloves, tomb raiders, gun-toting alien punchers…
The mad kisser snaps me right out of my cinematic haze as he utters his name. “Neil Mars.”
“Neil…Mars?!”
“Uh-huh. Neil as in Armstrong and Mars as in Bruno.”
I stare at him for a few seconds and then shrug. I could blame him for having killer looks but he could not be faulted for this. He couldn’t have chosen that name for himself. No wonder he tortures his Mom by calling her by her name.
I turn away from Neil Mars and watch Nalini as she taps her fingers expertly on the laptop. Then I wonder how long Agnas will take to come back because I can still feel Neil’s eyes weighing on me and it’s unnerving being the object of such scrutiny. I have to fight this constant urge to itch my forehead or ear lobe or just…something. God! Why has my body suddenly started betraying my mind? Rein yourself in, Kari. Tap it down. Stomp on it with your sturdy Blundstones. Yellow tracksuits…
“What’s your name?” he asks.
I open my mouth but before I can say anything, Nalini replies absent-mindedly, “Nalini…and that there is Kari.”
“K-a-r-r-y.” My name rolls off his tongue in an exotic mispronounced lilt which I don’t have the intention of correcting. Ever.
Nalini finally catches up on all the undue attention I’m getting because after a few seconds of contemplative silence she starts goading him, “Isn’t it a beautiful name? And she’s acing her college too. Works here in the evenings on weekdays and full time on weekends. Girl is a head down slogger. No time for boys eh, Kari?”
I glare at Nalini and wonder if she’ll start recounting my kissing skills next or maybe ask me to provide him a floor show. I purse my lips and turn my back on the both of them. Then I choose another design from the folder. A skull. I flash it pointedly at Nalini but she doesn’t take the hint. Instead, she changes her tactic. She starts badgering Neil for information.
“What did you do before…?” I hear her asking him.
“Studied Arts,” he quickly replies, cutting her off.
I hear Nalini suck in a breath. “SH-u-t u-p. That’s been my dream since I ditched diapers!”
“Really? Actually, I always wanted to pursue dance,” he says in a regretful tone that makes me curious. So why didn’t you? I almost ask him but Nalini bounces off her stool and puts her hands up in the air. “Oh-my-gawd. You lie! This is a joke. Right?”
“Nope. Trufax.”For the next hour, they both chat about Nalini’s life-long wish to study arts and learn dance. I also learn that Neil’s ambition is to set up his dance studio back in Chicago because that’s where he’s from. And after some more blah blah and gush gush from Nalini, he starts talking about how Agnas (no Mom, Mum or even good ol’ Mommy!) had called him a week back asking him to visit for a few days.
That’s exactly when the door dings and I lift my head to see Agnas walking in. Only she looks very unlike her usual self. Her hair is all undone and there are dark bags under her eyes. Very uncharacteristic of her normal pristine self. Then as soon as she notices Neil, she purses her lips and walks straight across the shop floor towards the stairs at the back.
I think Neil is as surprised with her behavior as we are, because for a moment he just sits on the couch staring at the stairwell door through which Agnas has just disappeared. It takes a few seconds for him to collect himself but when he does, he doesn’t waste a moment in trailing after his mother.
“Well, that was weird,” Nalini mutters after he leaves.
I nod in agreement. “Yup.”
An hour later, Nalini leaves for lunch and I get to man the counter all by myself. Just when I’ve settled and started practicing another design, I hear a muffled voice shouting out my name. I look up in alarm. The voice seems to be coming from somewhere behind the stairwell door.
“Karriii!” it goes again. I rush to open the door but there’s no one there. Then I hear shuffling sounds coming from the apartment upstairs. I race up the stairs and find the entrance door wide open. Without a second thought, I enter the apartment.
Once inside, I realize that Agnas’s living room decor exactly matches the shop’s. The same brick walls, leather couch, mounted racks but that’s right where the similarity ends. The racks here are not filled with abstracts but with warm memories. A ruddy cheeked, toothy boy fills up the frames of a day full of sand castles and bruised shins. Another frame captures a fistful of soaring balloons and a summer full of impossible dreams. His effervescence bursts through those frames, softening the harshness of the brick walls and the coldness of the leather.
“Kari, are you there?” Neil’s voice calls me from somewhere inside.
“Yeees!” I holler and head across to the corridor which leads to what are presumably, the bedrooms.
I walk into the first room on the right but my step falters as I take in the scene inside. Agnas is sprawled across her bed like a lifeless doll and Neil is standing right next to her, fanning desperately with a magazine in his hand. With rising alarm, my eyes register Agnas’ clammy and ashen face. “What happened?!”
“Water, Kari. She needs a glass of water,” he says, without taking his eyes off her.
I rush to the kitchen and get him a glass of water. Neil holds it out for Agnas and she takes a few sips before curling up on the bed. I stand there feeling uncertain, wondering if we should rather be rushing Agna
s to a hospital but the expression on Neil’s face stops me from saying anything. Forehead creased, lips pursed, he seems deeply troubled and angry.
“Go away,” Agnas says suddenly. Her voice sounds broken but her tone is adamant.
Neil tries to reason with her. “Agnas, just…”
She turns to look at us and then fixes a seething look at Neil. “I said, GO-A-WAY.”
She looks so different from her usual self that it almost seems like she’s possessed. My first instinct is to flee but I don’t want to look like a coward, so I start edging slowly towards the door. After a few seconds, Neil follows me out as well, carefully closing the door behind him. I get a glimpse of his face and the misery etched there twists a knife straight in my heart. I want to do something…anything to make that awful hollow look go away.
“Hey, don’t worry. Maybe it’s just a headache, you know?” I say as we head downstairs.
Neil doesn’t reply and I cringe at having said anything at all. Then as soon as we reach downstairs, he heads off to the coffee machine. Feeling dejected, I resume my seat at the counter. Just as I get started on my design again, a cappuccino appears in front of me. I look up in surprise and find Neil holding the cup out for me.
“Thank you for helping…up there,” he says with a small smile. My heart turns to mush.
“No biggie.” I take the cup from his hands and his smile widens but it doesn’t touch his eyes. And somehow that bothers me. A lot.
I watch as he slouches against the counter with a faraway look in his eyes and my heart goes out to him.
“She’ll be okay. It could be a cold or…just as simple as a bad day,” I say softly.
He nods but the creases on his forehead don’t disappear. Then he says, “For a moment I thought she was having a stroke. That’s why I panicked and called out for help…” His voice drops, sounding forlorn. “I’ve never seen her like this before.”