The Reluctant Matchmaker

by Shobhan Bantwal

  “Ah, yes. Prajay is Madhu and Nalini Nayak’s son. Very tall guy, right?”

  “Very.”

  “All their sons are exceptionally tall. I haven’t seen them since they moved to Massachusetts many years ago. The older two are married, I believe. Prajay’s the youngest boy.”

  “Boy? He’s thirty-nine, Mom.” Knowing my mother, she was probably calculating the age difference between Prajay and me and his average annual income. “Goodness, have I been sleeping the entire day?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject. A glance at my bedside clock told me it was nearly dinnertime.

  Mom nodded. “Those muscle relaxants can knock you out. I’ve seen some of my patients sleep for twelve hours straight.”

  I stretched my arms above my head and yawned. “They’re fabulous. I feel like a new person.” I glanced at the tray and grinned. “Even the batata song and dali thoi smell good.”

  The bright yellow dali thoi—split pea soup seasoned with mustard seeds, chili peppers, and curry leaves—wasn’t one of my big favorites, but at the moment it smelled delicious, served over a small mound of rice. Song was a fiery hot potato and onion curry—a staple of my people. I dug into the food eagerly—not my usual style.

  Mom gave me a puzzled look after I’d eaten a couple of spoonfuls. “I’ve never seen you eat like this.”

  “I’m famished. Must be because I slept through lunch,” I said with my mouth full. “So tell me, how exactly did I arrive home? Did Paul and Pinky drive me over?” I was anxious to find out. By any chance had Prajay decided to drive me home?

  “Pinky called me at my office to tell me what had happened, so I canceled my appointments for the afternoon, came home, and waited for you to arrive.”

  “Sorry you had to cancel because of me.” Mom never let her patients down, if she could help it. She must’ve been truly worried about me to do what she had done.

  “That’s okay. Things happen sometimes.”

  “How did you get me up here?” I chewed another mouthful of rice.

  “Paul drove you home and carried you upstairs while Pinky drove your car here. Then she rode back to the office with him.”

  So it hadn’t been Prajay who’d brought me home and carried me. I felt mildly disappointed. But what more could I expect from a stranger?

  Mom was still talking. “It wasn’t easy getting that suit off you and putting your pajamas on.” I made some appropriate sound and continued to eat while Mom made herself comfortable at the foot of my bed. “Nice people, those two, Paul and Pinky,” she remarked. She’d heard me talk about them but had never met them.

  I took a sip of water to douse the song burning my tongue. “They’re both very nice. Paul is one of the few non-Indians in the company, but he’s adjusted well to the spicy food in the break rooms and the various Indian languages floating around. He’s even learned a lot about our customs and religious holidays.”

  “Good for him.” Mom seemed impressed.

  “Most of the Rathnaya people are nice, except for Gargi Bansal. She’s a bi ... piece of work.”

  “Why? She doesn’t like you?”

  Mom was under the odd impression that everybody in the world liked her kids. It always came as a shock when one of us told her someone resented us. “I think she’s a little jealous. She’s about my age. She’s been working there as a programmer for four years and is still a programmer, while I got hired as a manager right away.”

  “But that’s because you must be smarter than she is, right?”

  “Not smarter, Mom.” Another one of Mom’s misconceptions—that her kids were brighter than most. “She’s got more brains than I do if she’s a computer professional. I just happened to have the combination of marketing and public relations experience that Paul and Nish were looking for.”

  “I see.” I wasn’t sure if Mom was satisfied with my explanation, but she accepted it. “You know, I was just thinking.”

  Uh-oh, Mom was thinking. “About what?”

  “Paul—he didn’t look like he’s gay. Didn’t you say he was homosexual?”

  “Yes. And he makes no bones about it.”

  “But he doesn’t look like that.”

  I smiled. “Gay people don’t exactly wear a label, Mom. Paul looks very manly, but he’s one hundred-percent gay. He’s got a boyfriend who’s rather feminine and handsome.”

  “Feminine and handsome?” Mom snickered.

  I placed the empty plate back on the tray. “Jeremy is good-looking, almost pretty, and not all that masculine. He walks with a slight swing in the hips and fusses over people like a woman.”

  “Really?” Mom looked at me like she’d never heard of such traits.

  “Uh-huh. He prepares wholesome lunches for Paul, and makes sure he takes his prostate-health pills and herbs, and calls regularly to check on Paul.” I sighed. “He drives Pinky and me nuts sometimes, but Jeremy’s a sweet guy. I like him.”

  “So you like sweet guys?” Mom suddenly seemed very interested.

  “Sure. If I could find a nurturing guy like Jeremy, I’d get married tomorrow.”

  “You want a gay husband?”

  I burst into laughter. “No, I meant a nice, caring guy like Jeremy, but a straight one.”

  Picking up the tray, Mom started to walk toward the door. “Thank goodness.”

  “Thanks for bringing me dinner, Mom.” With a smile I watched her back disappear. Mom was so comical at times and so naïve for a woman who’d been practicing gynecology and obstetrics for three decades.

  For lack of something to do while I lay in bed, I picked up the partly read Nora Roberts novel off my nightstand and started to read, but I couldn’t concentrate. I kept reliving my experience earlier.

  Lord, what a day. What were the folks at the office saying? They’d stood staring at me at first, and then some of them had disappeared after the doctor had shown up.

  I hadn’t heard from any of them after that, not even Pinky. I hoped she’d call me at home tonight. To make sure I hadn’t missed any calls, I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone to check my messages. No calls.

  I put the phone on the nightstand. No one cared.

  But that wasn’t fair, was it? It was generous of Pinky and Paul to have done all they’d done. And even kinder of Prajay. I made a mental note to send e-mails to thank them.

  How long would I have to lie in bed? I wondered. I’d be climbing the walls by tomorrow morning, or tomorrow evening at the latest. Unfortunately my work couldn’t be done very easily from home.

  A little while later I heard the grinding sound of the automatic garage door sliding open. Dad had come home from work. I heard him talk to Mom downstairs before he stopped by to check on me.

  “What’s this I hear about you falling in your office?” he asked with a scowl.

  “One of those freak accidents,” I replied, knowing full well that Mom had already given him the uncut version. Those two shared everything. There were no secrets between them as far as I knew.

  “So how long are you going to be out of commission, charda?” He approached my bed and patted my face.

  He still called me charda—child—after so many years. I kind of liked it, because he never used the term with my brothers. Being a girl, I was also given lots of hugs. The boys didn’t qualify for those, either. They got enthusiastic slaps on the back or high fives. Being a girl gave me princess status in Dad’s heart.

  What I didn’t get from my mother, I got from my father.

  “I’m not sure, Dad,” I answered. “I can’t go to work for at least a day or two. I’m hoping I can get one of my coworkers to give me a ride so I can go back at least by early next week.”

  He bent down and peered at my foot. “You’re sure it’s not broken?”

  “Dr. Murjani says it’s only a sprain. Mom checked it out. She agrees with his diagnosis.”

  He straightened up. “If Kaveri says it’s a sprain, then it should be okay.” Dad had implicit faith in his dear wi
fe’s medical opinion.

  “Actually what you’re looking at is nearly half the size of what it was this morning. It looked like a bloated eggplant.” I wanted to make sure I had Dad’s complete sympathy.

  “You want me to give you a ride to your office for a few days?” Dad was a sweet guy, especially when he got into his big, protective father mode.

  “If I can’t get anyone else, maybe I’ll take you up on your offer.” I hoped it didn’t come to that. My hours were erratic and so were Dad’s. It would be hard to coordinate our schedules. And we worked in opposite directions.

  After giving my hair an affectionate ruffle, Dad headed out. “Let me know. And don’t go gallivanting with your friends. You need to rest.”

  “I promise I won’t gallivant, Dad,” I replied wryly. I was in no shape to even hobble to the other side of my room, let alone go out on the town. I tried to wiggle my ankle. It hurt like the dickens, so I settled back against the pillows once again. Walking to the bathroom later was going to be painful.

  I went back to my book for a few minutes before my cell phone rang. I eagerly snatched it up.

  “Hi, Meena,” said a familiar voice.

  “Pinky!”

  “You sound kind of ... hyper,” she said. “Is it the medication?”

  “No, I’m just happy to hear from you. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.”

  “How are you feeling? I mean physically.”

  “Much better, thanks.”

  “I’m so relieved. You had us worried, you know—especially when you slept through the entire ride to your house.”

  “Did ... did Paul haul me from the ninth floor to his car?”

  “No, Prajay did. He held you like you were an eight-pound baby instead of a grown woman.”

  “Oh?” So Prajay had played the gallant knight again. That pleased me. Immensely.

  Pinky kept talking. “Imagine my shock this morning, when Paul called me from the ninth floor and said you were flat on your back and the doctor had been called. The whole office has been talking about it since.”

  “I bet. So, does everyone know what size panties I wear?”

  “Instead of worrying about your foot, you’re obsessing over what people think of your underwear?”

  “Hey, didn’t Paul tell you I was lying there with my skirt pushed all the way up to my butt?”

  “Paul would never say something like that. He’s worried about you.” Pinky was quiet for a moment. “But Gargi told me about how your bottom was showing.”

  “I don’t believe she was even there.” I thought about it. Gargi wasn’t management and wouldn’t have been included in that particular meeting. “One of her gossip buddies must have told her.”

  “Maybe. But she seemed to know details.”

  “She’s probably telling her exaggerated version to everyone.” I should have known that woman would pounce on bad news like a bee on pollen.

  “Don’t worry. Most of the people were worried that something serious had happened to you.”

  “Thanks, Pinky. It’s sweet of you to try to spare my feelings. And thanks for taking such good care of me.”

  “Anytime, my dear. And you know what? Prajay stopped by this afternoon to ask me if I’d heard from you.”

  A delicious little thrill zigzagged through my veins. “What’d you tell him?”

  “I told him I’d called your mother and that you were sleeping like a baby.”

  “What did he say?”

  “What is this, an inquisition?” Pinky mocked. “First you tell me you’re not all dressed up to impress him, and now you want to know every word he said.”

  I grinned to myself. “He did go out of his way to be nice.”

  “Yes, despite the drool you left on his couch.”

  “I drooled on his couch?”

  “Just a little. When I went upstairs to wake you up, your mouth was open and drool was sliding out one side and onto the couch.”

  “Oh, no! This is sounding worse and worse.” I could be a guaranteed winner on America’s Most Embarrassing Videos.

  “Don’t worry,” clucked Pinky. “I managed to clean it up before anyone could notice, so you’re safe. No stains on the couch, either. But no matter what I did, you refused to wake up. You murmured something incoherent and went back to sleep. So I just went through your purse and found your car keys myself.”

  “I see you even remembered to deliver my purse and shoes to my house. I owe you one, Pinky.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “So what else did Prajay say?”

  “Nothing. He seemed relieved that you were okay.”

  “Are you sure? When I send him a thank-you note, I want to remember every detail of what he did for me.”

  “I’m sure. All he did was transport you to Paul’s car.”

  “Oh.” So he’d packed me into Paul’s car and thought good riddance. I couldn’t admit to Pinky that I was disappointed. But then, what was I expecting? Prajay Nayak was someone I’d met briefly, under weird circumstances. Despite his vehement denial, his concern for me probably stemmed from the fear of a lawsuit. Nothing personal.

  And why was I so anxious about his opinion? He had this austere face and a body like an army tank. But on the other hand, he had a gentle side to him—a softer, generous side.

  He had hauled me in his arms. Twice. That counted for something. Besides, I’d never dated anyone who dressed so sharply or had such gentlemanly manners.

  The two men I’d dated somewhat seriously so far had turned out to be selfish and egotistical. One of them was a medical resident I’d met three years ago. He was so full of himself because he’d made it through Harvard Medical School that he thought women had to bow to him. I’d wished him good-bye and good luck after four awkward dates. He couldn’t imagine why a woman who barely reached his shoulder didn’t find him irresistible.

  The other guy, a Konkani accountant introduced to me by my parents, had hinted that his future wife had to be modest and obedient. Neither of those adjectives even remotely described me. I broke up with him after three dates, much to my parents’ disappointment. Besides, he was a lousy kisser. He’d tried to kiss me on our third and last date, and it was like being slobbered on by a Saint Bernard. Then he’d asked me if I’d enjoyed the kiss.

  Compared to those two guys, Prajay Nayak came across as a nice man with a solid brain and a kind enough heart. But then, why would he throw a glance at a little pixie like me?

  So imagine my surprise when the next day a dozen flame-colored roses with his get-well card arrived for me. I tried not to get too excited, because I still suspected it was the fear of a lawsuit that had prompted the gesture.

  Mom was ecstatic. In her old-fashioned mind, if a single young man sent me flowers, it was with the intention of courting me. I hated to spoil her fun, so I kept my mouth shut.

  Just when I thought the surprises were over, another stunning thing happened a day later. Paul called me to find out if I was in any shape to return to work on Monday, and I said, “Yes, if either you or Pinky can give me a ride. If it’s not too much ... trouble?” I added hesitantly. It was an imposition, since they both lived some distance from my home.

  “Guess what,” said Paul casually. “Prajay has offered to give you a ride to the office and back for the week.”

  I searched my brain for a logical explanation “Why?”

  “When he found out where Pinky and I lived, he offered on his own. Apparently his condo is close to your home.”

  “But isn’t he returning to Washington soon?” My heartbeat had crept up a notch.

  “Not for a few weeks. He’s taking care of business in our office at the moment.”

  Of all times to have business in the local office. “I’m not sure, Paul. I don’t want to inconvenience Prajay further.” The thought of riding with the king himself was exciting—but disquieting at the same time. Prajay still intimidated me somewhat. Besides, I’d embarrassed myself plenty already, and the poss
ibility of adding to it was pretty high if I had a fifteen-minute commute each way for several days. “My dad can give me a ride.”

  “Doesn’t your father work around Moorestown?”

  “Yes, but my father offered, and Prajay is only trying to be kind... .” It was indeed a stretch for Dad.

  “Look, if I were you, I’d take Prajay’s offer,” encouraged Paul. “Your house is right on his way, so it’s not like he’s going to be greatly inconvenienced. You can hobble around on your own now?”

  “He doesn’t need to carry me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Good. I’ll see you Monday, then?”

  “Sure. Thanks, Paul.”

  When I informed Mom, she beamed. “What did I tell you? He is interested.”

  “No, Mom!” I snapped. “Can’t you understand that any kind of personal relationship between him and me would be ... improper?”

  Mom shook her head. “If both parties are interested, it’s not sexual harassment or anything. Coworkers fall in love and get married in almost every office—despite the rules.”

  “We’re not exactly coworkers. He’s my boss. He’s the boss of everybody who works at Rathnaya.” I realized I was yelling, venting my frustration on my mother. It wasn’t her fault that I stood no chance with Prajay. I softened my tone. “I suspect he’s going out of his way to be kind because he’s afraid of a lawsuit.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “How can he think that? Respectable Konkani folks don’t go around suing people.” Then she turned thoughtful for a moment, and a slow smile settled over her face. “You know what? I still think fate literally threw the two of you together. Karma can be very strange at times. See, now he’s sending you flowers and offering you a ride.”

  I took a deep breath. Mom had to be reined in. “Don’t go around thinking such things. And please, please don’t say anything to anyone. This is strictly business, okay?”

  “Okay.” Mom nodded, but the subtle twinkle in her eye didn’t diminish. My aunts would be hearing about this soon. I knew she was itching to get her hands on the phone. Nothing I could say was likely to change Mom’s way of thinking. She was making big plans to get rid of me the old-fashioned way: marry me off to the first guy who showed interest.