by JB Schroeder
“Afraid not. My most secret wish is very complicated.” His gaze fell to her lips, and then he held her eyes. His twinkled, and Kalpani felt her face heat. Jonah was flirting with her.
They’d been at war to some degree since she’d first walked into his shop a couple of weeks ago. He hadn’t flirted with her since that night at Sohel’s party—the night they’d done nothing but tease and play and kiss. The warmth in her face spread through her body. He hadn’t lost his touch, nor had she lost the urge to gravitate toward him. Her brain had shut down, though. She couldn’t think of a dang thing to say.
In a low voice, Jonah asked. “You got your salon space. Is there anything else you’re wishing for? Something an elf could handle?”
Kalpani could barely breathe. If the elf was him? A kiss, a touch…more. So much more of this.
Finally, she wrenched her gaze away and sucked air into her lungs and reason back into her mind. Flirting with Jonah was not a good idea. Tumbling head over heels—or even into bed—with him was a terrible idea. He’d only be in the way of her goals. It would not end well. She knew exactly what was—and wasn’t—in her future.
“I have everything I need now.” She glanced at him and caught a flash of something cross his face. Hurt? Anger? Frustration?
Disappointment lodged in her chest, but it didn’t matter. She was here on business, and business it would remain until he was out of her building and out of her life.
The holiday passed in a blur, but Kalpani had a bit of breathing room between Christmas and New Year’s and was determined to see Meenu. She’d told Meenu she wouldn’t take no for an answer—she had gifts for her children—and they agreed on Monday. Not only was it Kalpani’s day off, she hoped Meenu’s husband would be at work.
When Kalpani pulled up to the town house, there was no car in the drive. She parked on the street, just in case, wrestled the big tote of presents, and rang the bell.
Meenu opened the door wearing a smile on her face and baby Sunny on her hip. Meenu was never at ease these days, but didn’t seem too stiff or agitated, and Kalpani breathed a sigh of relief. Her husband must not be home.
Her two other kiddos clamored around, excited by the peek of colorful Christmas wrapping they could see sticking out of her bag.
“It’s so good to see you,” Kalpani said, hugging her friend. She tickled the kids’ bellies. “And you two! When did you grow up on me?”
They giggled.
“Gifts first?” Kalpani asked. Maybe if the kids were occupied with new toys, she and Meenu could manage a decent chat.
“Sure,” Meenu said. “Everybody to the living room.”
Kalpani passed out gifts, the kids tore into them, and Meenu made sure they each said their thank yous. Meenu helped the kids get the toys out of the boxes, so Kalpani ended up with the baby. She was a warm, solid weight, and although Kalpani made silly faces, she felt a pang deep inside. With the goals she’d set out, she didn’t know how she’d manage to have kids herself.
But this visit wasn’t about her. Meenu’s kids seemed to be happy—typical children—so far. But Kalpani worried about the long term for this little clan, and she was especially concerned about her friend.
When Meenu judged them occupied enough, she invited Kalpani to the kitchen for tea. Kalpani noticed her friend walked gingerly.
“Are you limping?”
“Oh, I pulled something when I was running with the jogging stroller.”
Kalpani found that suspicious. She’d already gathered that Meenu didn’t leave her husband in charge of the kids if at all possible, and it’d be next to impossible to push three children up even a small Pittsburgh hill walking, let alone running.
Meenu didn’t look at her, just popped the baby in a highchair, put a handful of Cheerios in a bright plastic cup with a tricky lid, and pushed the lever on the electric tea kettle. She already had two mugs and tea bags out.
Kalpani suspected Meenu wanted her in and out as quickly as possible. “Is Doug at work?”
“Returning some gifts at a couple of places.”
Kalpani nodded. For Meenu’s sake she wouldn’t linger, but she wasn’t leaving until she’d said what she needed to either.
They made idle chitchat, asking about each other’s parents and siblings. As soon as the tea was ready and Meenu sat, however, Kalpani said, “I have a gift for you, too.”
“What? We promised to stop exchanging years ago.”
“I know. This is different.” Kalpani wasn’t sure where to start. “Let me tell you my good news first. I am the proud owner of a new salon.”
“Oh, Kalpani! You did it!” Meenu said. Her facial expression was, for once, uncensored and showed true joy. “Did you name it Xanadu like you always wanted?”
Kalpani grinned. “Yes. Renovations start end of this week.” She kept it brief, explaining about the Gupta family and the excellent location. Although she would have loved to dish about Jonah with her old friend—she thought about him far more than she probably should—she was determined to stay on topic.
“That sounds amazing. I’m so happy for you,” Meenu said.
“Thanks.” Kalpani spun her mug, not sure how to frame the next part. “So, here’s where you come in. I’m going to need an accountant.”
Right off, Meenu began shaking her head. “No. I couldn’t. I’m needed here.” She pushed up from the table, and her chair fell over with a bang. The baby began crying, and she scooped her up. The older two ran in. “Mommy’s okay. It’s just my chair. See?”
Kalpani swallowed hard. These kids were not unscathed, as she had hoped. She hurried around the other side of the table and righted the chair. “There, all better.” She only wished everything could be solved as easily.
The kids looked to Meenu. She nodded. “Go play now.” She scooped up the mugs in one hand and put them in the sink.
“Meenu,” Kalpani said.
Meenu worked one-handed. Tea bags into the sink, mugs into the dishwasher.
“Look at me,” Kalpani said. “I’m not saying now. And I’m not pushing you.”
Tears filled Meenu’s eyes, but she didn’t respond or even move until the baby yanked hard on her hair, and she automatically worked the chubby fist loose. Meenu had never confided the details of her marriage, but she had to know that Kalpani had a pretty good idea of what she was dealing with.
“I hope and pray you’ll find the strength you need…someday.” As much as Kalpani wanted that day to be today, there was only one person who could make that happen. All Kalpani could do was give her friend a lifeline to grab when she was ready. “When you do, you’ll have a job. That’s all.”
8
Jonah thought of Kalpani often in the following weeks. Who was he kidding? He thought of her constantly. He knew she was a Christian Indian and wondered what her Christmas celebrations might be like in her family. He wondered if she was extra busy at work—making people beautiful for holiday gatherings—or if it slowed down. He wondered how often she’d come to check on the renovation once it started and when—or if—he might see her again.
His own holiday was somber and bittersweet. He declined invitations from pals for holiday gatherings. He wasn’t in the mood and didn’t want to waste a minute of the two weeks he had left in the shop. He’d been working on a special gift for his mom and brothers, converting a snapshot taken at a barbecue the summer before his dad’s death into a signature-style JW piece. In it, his mom was in front of his dad, his arm over her chest, hand on her opposite shoulder—with the spatula he held precariously close to Jonah’s cheek. Chuck, wearing his ever-present bandana, was saying something into Rita’s ear but looking at the camera, and her face showed mock outrage though her eyes were bright. All the men were lined up, arms linked over each other’s shoulders. Jake was grinning, Jonah was rolling his eyes, and Jeremy was smirking.
When they opened his gift, everyone loved it. His mom sobbed, Sadie sniffed and swiped, and his bothers choked up. Even Jeremy’s fian
cée Darcy—they were suddenly back together and furiously happy—got weepy.
“Wow. This is… Damn,” Jake said.
Jeremy managed, “Thanks.” But Jonah could clearly see how much it meant to each of them.
As always, they ate too much and probably drank too much, but the lively atmosphere was forced. They were all very aware that this was the first Christmas without their patriarch.
And for Jonah, double whammy. He’d only just lost his other father figure, too. His gift to himself was spending time on another piece—a shot of just him and Sohel. A customer had snapped it randomly one day then sent it to them—but it happened to be a great shot. A real day in the life. Jonah didn’t have his own wall to hang it on yet. But when he did, it’d have a prime spot.
There wasn’t much time, so there wasn’t much choice. Other than Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with his family, Jonah worked his tail off alternately tackling Sohel’s forty-some years of clutter and attacking the list of things he needed to do in order to sell art.
He worked furiously to print up and gallery-wrap extra copies of his bestselling pieces and secured two local businesses to consign in after the holidays. For now, he could still use the Print & Ship’s windows. Once he’d let the customers know they were closed for business, he changed over the whole second window to display his holidays in the ’burgh pieces, and people were actually buying them. On Saturday, he’d done nothing but handle art sales—hallelujah. The extra income would likely cover a security deposit for an apartment—not that he’d had time to look yet.
The website was a far more time-consuming project than he’d expected, and although it needed more work and a lot more real-time content, it was now at least a working site that showcased a lot of his pieces. He had yet to set up automating sales and accepting payments online, but the contact page worked. People could reach out and inquire and order through him over email or phone.
With the website address secured, he was able to complete simple flyers and business cards and print stacks of each.
And then his time was up. He had to move out, and the equipment had to be moved upstairs. He called his brothers and enlisted their help.
New Year’s Eve morning, Jake showed up with breakfast sandwiches and Jeremy brought giant Bloody Marys.
“To Sohel and your last night under this roof,” Jeremy said, raising his glass.
“To new beginnings,” Jake added, and they touched their plastic tumblers together.
Jeremy would move into his mom’s spare room tomorrow, on New Year’s Day. Tonight, he wanted to spend alone, in Sohel’s space. One last night with the spirit of the man who’d been so good to him, who’d meant so much.
“Speaking of new beginnings,” Jeremy said, “we picked a date.”
“To pick your noses?” Jonah asked.
“To get married, asswipe.”
Jonah laughed. “I just like to hear you say it.”
“Never thought we would,” Jake said with a grin.
“Can you stop being idiots for a minute?” Jeremy said. “It’s going to be a small wedding in True Springs, so we aren’t going crazy, but I’d like you both to stand up for me. Best men.”
“We’d be honored,” Jonah said, at the same time Jake said, “Of course.”
They did the man-hug-back-slap thing and then toasted again to Jeremy and Darcy’s happiness.
“Who are the bridesmaids? Does Darcy have sisters?” Jake asked.
“The sister-in-law she was closest with passed, so she’s going to ask Sadie.” He turned from Jake to Jonah. “Her best friend, Kalpani, will be the other one. Sorry, dude.”
Jonah shrugged. “It’s cool.” Hell, he thought about her so often that seeing her couldn’t possibly make it worse. “We’re on decent terms.” They’d worked out a deal they could both live with. Nice and businesslike.
Jake waved his arm around. “Still kinda sucks.” One night when he was feeling low, Jonah had let slip how bad he had it for Kalpani, but it seemed Jeremy hadn’t shared that nugget with Jake. Jonah could only hope Jeremy hadn’t spilled to Darcy either. Best if no one knew and Jeremy forgot. Maybe Jonah could forget.
Jonah said, “Yeah, but it’s not her fault.”
Jeremy told them the wedding date—Saturday, February fifteenth—and they discussed a few more details. When they’d finished their Bloody Marys, Jonah said, “We should get a move on.”
They spent the next few hours hauling all the equipment Jonah had decided to keep—with Ranji’s blessing—upstairs. The wide-format printer was a bitch, and for a while there Jonah thought they might have to start Kalpani’s demo a little early, but in the end, they managed it.
The second floor was divided in three parts. Besides the bathroom, the area in the middle was just wide-open space, and they stacked boxes of valuable supplies like cardstock ink and more there, shoving them under the big table Jonah used for making stretcher frames and gallery-wrapping the art. He left the lumber in the corner. Jonah had cleared the rear storage room out and had set up a table so that the electronics wouldn’t be on the dusty floor. They packed it tight.
The front room was the room he’d been using as a bedroom. He’d already cleaned out and packed up. The dresser, nightstand, and bedframe were from his childhood room. Rita didn’t want them back, so a service was coming to pick them up for donation the next day. When he got his own place, he wanted to start fresh. No more twin bed for a guy who was six feet. It was past time to start adulting.
“I owe you,” Jonah told his brothers when they’d finished.
“Bet your ass you do,” Jeremy said, even as Jake said, “It’s all good.”
“Sadie and I are going to Vine tonight. Join us,” Jake said.
“Dog Daze is playing,” Jeremy said. “It’ll be packed.”
Jonah declined, and they pushed harder. Finally, with a worried look, Jake said, “Dude, are you sure?”
“I’m good,” Jonah replied. “Seriously. I’m taking Mom to a nice dinner downtown, and then I’ll just chill.”
With the calendar ushering in a new year, Jonah was feeling contemplative. Hell—he was missing his father, missing Sohel, missing everything that had been, and although he fought against it, he was even missing Kalpani. She’d popped back into his life, and he kept wondering what could have been, if only they didn’t have opposite interests.
And he could only imagine what it felt like to his mom. She’d been with his father longer than Jonah had been alive, and unlike couples who went their separate ways during the day, his parents had even been united in their work.
Jonah knew his mom counted herself blessed. They’d had a great marriage, faced tough times head-on together, had always put family first, and had been each other’s go-to for so many years—but damn, it had to be hard on the other side. And New Year’s Eve was another “first” without his dad for her.
So no, Jonah wasn’t hanging out at Vine—something he could do anytime—or hitting some crowded, ear-splitting New Year’s Eve spectacular with friends. His unknown future would be toasted, sure. Otherwise, he and his mom would quietly celebrate the past.
9
Three weeks later
Wednesday, January 21st
Thursday nights were late ones at the downtown salon—later tonight due to a late and very particular client. Add in a stop at the market and a quick dinner, and Kalpani didn’t arrive in the Strip and enter Xanadu until after ten p.m. It had been a long day and a long week, and she wondered if she shouldn’t have waited to check on things until the weekend.
Her exhaustion vanished, however, as she crossed into the front room.
Lou and his subs had put up Sheetrock—and suddenly the place looked less like a torn-apart Print & Ship and more like it would be her Xanadu.
Giant boxes—the cabinets—took up a huge amount of room on the first floor. She walked through them, trailing a hand over the top. Someone had ripped a few open—likely to check that it was the correct de
livery.
“Wow,” she said quietly, thrilled at seeing her choice for real.
A clatter sounded from above, and she froze. What the hell?
She waited for more, but it was quiet. Just as she’d decided maybe something the contractors had propped up had fallen over, more noise came. A scrabbling sound or…
She didn’t know. Dammit. Had the Sheetrock guys left a window open, maybe? Had a bird gotten in?
There was a push broom in one corner, and she grabbed it and headed for the back stairs. It wasn’t ideal for shooing out a bird, but her options were limited.
She crept up the stairs. Any rodent or bird would panic at the approach of a human, and she was hoping to sneak up on a calm thing, not a crazed one.
She heard only a bit of noise a couple of times. Mostly it was quiet.
When she hit the landing, she realized there was light. They must have left lights on, too, but at least she’d be able to see.
Kalpani crept forward, scanning around that big table Jonah had left and all the boxes under it. If she were a squirrel, she’d hide in there. The area to her left at the front of the building had been gutted, updated, and Sheetrocked like the first floor. New windows were in place, but from here didn’t appear to be open. If she were a bird, she’d be aiming for a window.
She swore under her breath when she turned toward the back of the building and realized light spilled from the back room. Lou hadn’t kept the door to Jonah’s storage space closed like she’d told them to. His stuff was probably covered in dust and grime.
She listened hard for noise, heard nothing as she crept to within a few feet of the door, then suddenly a creak and a shadow dipped in and out of the light. She took a big breath and covered the remaining distance, broom held high, ready to swing if the thing should attack.
Then—
A huge shape rose up, blocking the light. She screamed.
“Ho-whoa!”
