A Holly Jolly Diwali

by Sonya Lalli

  “You don’t know her,” I continued, trying not to feel too guilty. “But she’s great. Anyway . . .”

  I spent a few more minutes assuring Mom and Dad that I would eat more carefully and stay hydrated in Goa, and that I’d contacted our relatives to let them know I’d be delaying my visit by a few days. Afterward, Jasmine stole the phone from them and went upstairs.

  “Where’s Brian?” I asked, watching her settle onto my bed. Her old room was now our parents’ study.

  “He’s running late. We might start dinner without him.” She shifted the pillow beneath her. “So you decided to have that fling, huh?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Sam from the Band?” Jasmine smiled. “Come on. You should have told Mom and Dad that Sam’s a guy, Niki. They wouldn’t have cared—”

  “As if they wouldn’t have cared,” I interrupted. As if my Indian parents wouldn’t care that I was staying with some guy I’d known for little more than a week.

  “You’re twenty-nine, sis,” Jasmine continued. “You don’t owe them an explanation. You don’t owe them anything . . .”

  My jaw clenched, and I forced air out through my nostrils. Maybe she didn’t feel like she owed Mom and Dad, but I did. I still lived under their roof. Everything I had was because of their sacrifices, and if they wanted me to be their good Indian daughter, I needed to be.

  At least, I needed them to believe it.

  Jasmine continued, her lecture grating on me. “If we live to make them happy, no one wins—”

  “Stop it,” I said icily, cutting her off. She’d been going off on me for a few minutes already, and I was so over this conversation. “That’s enough.”

  “Fine,” she said, after a moment had passed. “Let’s agree to disagree.” Her smile brightened. “So, have you slept with him?”

  I rolled my eyes, although inside I was still fuming.

  “You have, you little minx . . .”

  “Jas!” I said sharply. Our house was small, and her loud-ass voice carried. “Keep it down. And no. I haven’t.”

  Half-heartedly, I quickly told her about where I was really staying in Goa and that I was planning to sleep in the guest room.

  “So you’re basically going on a family holiday . . .” Jasmine said, after I’d told her the part where Sam’s mother would be around, too. “Sounds like a fun fling, Niki.”

  Jasmine’s words rung unpleasantly in my ear, like I was standing too close to a speaker. I didn’t like that word as much as I had a few days earlier.

  “You’re in dangerous territory.” She paused. “Are you thinking this through?”

  I bit down on my lip, hard. I was tired and still a little shaky from my bout of food poisoning, and I was sick of Jasmine getting to have all the fun. I was sick of her lectures.

  “Are you sure—”

  “I’m sure!” I snapped. “I can handle myself, OK, Jasmine? I can handle a . . . fling.”

  “Niki,” Jasmine pressed. “Be careful. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into—”

  “Because I’m such a fucking nerd, right?” I yelled.

  My voice echoed on the other side of the line. Jasmine looked taken aback, but I wasn’t having any of this anymore. I was fuming.

  “It’s not fair. You’ve had your fun.” I paused, my words hard around the edges. “Now leave me in peace while, for once, I have mine—”

  “But—”

  “And he lives in London, OK?” I laughed spitefully. “So, it’s not like you need to worry about me shacking up with some random fling . . .”

  I bit my tongue, watching Jasmine’s face. Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  The silence hung between us for a moment as I tried to figure out a way to walk this back. To apologize. But I was still angry—at Jasmine or myself, I wasn’t quite sure—and I wasn’t able to find the words.

  “That’s what you think about my relationship with Brian?” Her voice wavered. “I shacked up with some random fling?”

  I didn’t respond, and my hands clenched, fingernails digging into flesh.

  “You don’t like him, do you.”

  No. I didn’t. And Jasmine had never asked me this question point-blank before. But maybe that’s because she already knew my answer.

  “It’s been three years, Niki, and you never told me?” She was shaking, visibly. “You’re my sister. I can’t fucking believe you!”

  “And how would you have reacted if I told you the truth, huh?” I fired back. “You do the opposite of whatever people advise you to do. If I told you the truth, if any of us had, you would have hated us and dated him anyway.”

  “How do you know that?”

  I scoffed. We both knew I was right. Brian was a dud. A toxic, moody, only-charismatic-when-he’s-had-a-few dud. And just two weeks after what was meant to be Jasmine’s one-off rebound after her last ex, she’d brought Brian home for dinner and forced him into our lives, like she did all of her decisions.

  At least they know who I really am, Jasmine would say, justifying every time she kicked up a fuss, referring to the plethora of our South Asian friends who just did whatever they wanted and lied to their parents about it.

  But maybe Jasmine should have lied, for all our sakes. Because what she didn’t see was what happened to Mom and Dad after she slammed the door and took off without bothering to tell anyone where she was going, without caring about how much she made them worry. Yes, they accepted her. Yes, they loved her and they always would. But that didn’t mean she didn’t put them through hell. Jasmine had made them cry harder than she’d ever know, their bedroom door shut, their voices only audible to me when I pressed my ear hard against the wall.

  So of course I had to be the good daughter. Live my life the way they wanted. I didn’t want to cause my parents that sort of pain. I had to think carefully about how not to make those same mistakes, to be the calm in the storm rather than the hot, dizzying puff of air that caused it.

  “I’m going to hook up with Sam,” I said decidedly. It wasn’t fair that Jasmine got to have all the fun out of the two of us. I was on vacation. I was on a break. It was my goddamn turn.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “But you’re going to get your heart broken.”

  I fumed. “Jas—”

  “And I’m telling you this now, even though you’re mad, because I’m a good sister.” She stared at me with cold eyes. “Unlike you.”

  “I’m the bad sister?” I scoffed.

  I was the sister that listened to Mom and Dad and did everything they ever wanted from both of us. I was the sister that picked up the pieces, that made the responsible choices, that did everything right—everything good.

  “You know what, Jas?” I was shaking, unable to look at her or feel anything at all but anger, red and hot. I opened my mouth, ready to swallow it all. Ready to be the bigger person—the better sister—and apologize.

  But I’d already lost my cool.

  And I told my big sister to go fuck herself.

  CHAPTER 19

  You’re so quiet this afternoon,” Sam said as we rolled our suitcases through the apartment complex.

  “I’m taking it all in.”

  “Sure?”

  My shoulder bag was slipping off my arm. I hiked it up, nodding. “I’m sure.”

  The hour-and-a-half drive from Goa International Airport to his family’s apartment near Mandrem Beach had been utterly breathtaking. Scenic, sprawling beaches more gorgeous than the ones I’d come across on Instagram. Picturesque towns and buildings that seemed almost European with their architecture and Catholic churches, remnants of the Portuguese colony everywhere you looked. Even here, a maze of walkways leading up to the apartment building was lush with greenery and flowers, an archway of coconut trees hanging overtop.

  I was in awe. But I was
also really bummed out. Jasmine hadn’t texted me back since our fight earlier this morning, even though I’d sent her about fifty apology messages. But she had a right to be angry with me. We used all kinds of terrible language to refer to other people—usually in jest—but Jasmine and I never aimed it at each other. Without a doubt, I’d crossed a huge line.

  But was I in the wrong for hiding my true feelings about her boyfriend? Did that make me a bad sister? All these years, I’d thought I was doing the right thing by keeping my mouth shut about Brian, but now I wasn’t sure what was the bigger betrayal. If I should have been honest with her, like she’d been with me today, even if it meant she’d be mad at me for it.

  I looked over at Sam walking beside me. His eyes were on the ground, as if he were worried about tripping over his laces. He’d been nervous around me all day and had even spilled his coffee on his khaki shorts while we were waiting to board. To my great amusement, for about a half hour he looked like he’d wet himself.

  Sam caught me staring, and I realized I’d been holding my breath. There was no doubt about it. I was majorly crushing on Sam, and I wondered fleetingly if there was a grain of truth to what Jasmine had said to me.

  No. I felt my ears redden just thinking about her. About her lack of faith in me. Who was she to go around doing whatever the hell she wanted, and then tell me I wasn’t capable of this? Keeping my feelings in check while having a fling?

  “What are you thinking about, Niki?” Sam asked me suddenly.

  “I’m thinking we should go to the beach.” I nudged Jasmine’s voice out of my head and decided not to let her ruin my vacation. “How far away is it?”

  “Walking distance.” Sam stopped short, and then looked upward, using his hand to shield out the sun. I followed with my eyes and found Aasha Auntie waving down at us from a balcony one level up, a vision in stylish linen pants and a loose kurta, her short, salt-and-pepper hair slicked back behind her ears.

  “Yoo-hoo!” she called down, beckoning us to come more quickly. “Hello, my sweets!”

  Even though I was happy to see her, I grimaced as Jasmine’s annoying voice popped into my head. No, this was certainly not a family holiday.

  This was definitely just a fling.

  * * *

  • • •

  When we got upstairs, Aasha Auntie hugged me with such warmth and familiarity it was honestly a bit overwhelming. I wasn’t sure why I got emotional—I pulled away when it became too much.

  I gave Auntie a box of Mom’s pinni, and smiling in thanks, she popped a piece into her mouth before setting off for the tour. I was thankful Mom had packed so many boxes for me. I’d also given one each to Pinky and Manish before leaving the Joshis’ apartment for the hotel, as well as one to the friendly woman at the concierge when I’d checked out of my Mumbai hotel. I still had several left over for my relatives when I got to Punjab.

  The apartment was spread over two floors. The kitchen, the living room area, a bedroom, and a bathroom were on the bottom floor, and upstairs, there were three more bedrooms and another bathroom. Halfway through the tour, their dog Scooby woke up from his slumber and started following me around. After one scruff on the back of his neck, the adorable little thing wouldn’t let me out of his sight.

  “Your face is shining again.” Aasha Auntie stopped outside a door partially ajar, leading to what I assumed would be my bedroom for the next few days. Or however long I ended up staying. (Sam and I actually hadn’t discussed when I’d leave for Punjab, although my flight back to Seattle was booked for twelve days from now.)

  “You look healthy once more,” Aasha Auntie continued.

  “Thank you,” I stammered, getting stupidly overwhelmed again. “For letting me stay with you and for taking care of me that night—”

  “Oh, honey. I didn’t come for you. Sam was managing just fine.” She smiled. “Poor boy. He was so worried about you. I thought he might get ill.”

  Sam appeared at the top of the stairs just in time for me to see his face go beet red. I stifled a laugh.

  “Anyway, you can sleep here.” Aasha Auntie pushed open the door, and the room wasn’t what I was expecting. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and there were several guitars and a keyboard next to the bed.

  “It still looks like a teenager’s room!” Her laugh rang out, and my head swiveled very slowly in her direction. She was staring vaguely into space, and it occurred to me that she was showing me Sam’s room.

  Hold the phone. She wanted me to sleep with him?

  I threw Sam a pleading look. “Um.”

  “Niki will stay with you,” Aasha Auntie said to him. “Yes?”

  Sam’s eyes bulged.

  “It’s fine, beta.”

  “Yeah,” Sam grunted, “but—”

  “Why so much drama?” She batted her eyelashes innocently, turning to me. “You will stay with Sam, nah?”

  Uh . . . Nah, I wouldn’t. Yes, I was on an adventurous kick, and the thought of cuddling up next to Sam all night got my mojo flowing, but this had bad idea written all over it.

  Aasha Auntie would be just down the hall.

  Aasha Auntie was—let’s spell it out—an auntie!

  I was panicking, alarm bells going off everywhere.

  I’d never ever met a brown parent who would not only be OK with their child shacking up under their roof but actually encourage it. Mom and Dad were among the chiller parents of our South Asian community, and even they made Brian sleep in a different bedroom on a different floor of the house when he and Jasmine stayed over during the holidays. (I mean, fair enough. Brian had never bothered to learn the golden rule for dating a South Asian girl: do not fucking touch them in front of the parents. He once attempted to kiss Jasmine—on the mouth—during a family gathering, and Dad got so flustered he excused himself to the restroom and didn’t come back for an hour.)

  “Auntie,” I said, sweating buckets. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’ll stay in a different bedroom.”

  “And what if I told you it was a lot of trouble?” Aasha Auntie turned to me, her eyes sparkling. “This room is already made up, beti.”

  I swallowed hard. “Then I guess I’ll take the dog’s bed?”

  Sam choked just as Auntie rolled her eyes, barking out a laugh. “Scooby is very possessive. That’s fine. You can sleep downstairs.”

  My face and neck were on fire as she disappeared, leaving Sam to get me settled in the bedroom downstairs. I was still hot and weirded out, and as soon as Sam closed the door, I collapsed onto the bed.

  “Sorry about that,” Sam said, sitting down next to me. “She’s quite the character.”

  “Was that a test?” I asked, nervous. “Did she want me to prove I was a good girl or something and make me ask for my own room?”

  Sam grinned. “She’ll love that you thought that, but no. Honestly, she’s very relaxed about those things. Very modern, as her gossipy friends like to say.”

  “No kidding.”

  “I suppose she made some assumptions because we . . .” Sam trailed off and I eyed him.

  “Because we . . .” I echoed, grinning. “Did you tell your mom we kissed?”

  His face contorted, giving him away.

  “Oh my god. You’re a little mama’s boy, aren’t you?”

  “I am not!”

  “You are. I bet you’re the favorite.”

  “I’m the youngest, so she babies me, but my brother, Prem, is the favorite. Her favorite.”

  “And your dad’s?”

  Sam hesitated, and just as I kicked myself for prying into their family affairs, he spoke up.

  “My sister. Leena.” He smiled. “She’s the best. You’ll love her. Everyone does.”

  I gestured to the pink frilly curtains and pillow shams. “Is this her room?”

  “She hasn’t visited in a w
hile, but yeah. Leena has three young kids, so we usually go to them in LA.”

  “Does Prem have kids, too?”

  “A baby boy, and another is on the way.”

  Sam pulled out his phone and started showing me family photos—everyone gathered in Prem and his wife’s apartment in Mumbai or here in Goa or on the boardwalk in LA. Sam looked very much like his siblings; they were all spitting images of Aasha Auntie, although Sam and Leena had their father’s eyes. Their dad was in only two of the photos.

  “You’re close with Prem and Leena. I can tell.” I handed Sam back his phone. “That’s really nice.”

  “It is.” Sam nodded. “It’s hard with the three of us each on a different continent, but we’re there for each other as much as we can be. Like you and Jasmine, I expect.”

  I hesitated. At some point during our time together, I’d told Sam all about my complicated big sister, but I hadn’t told him about our fight earlier that day. After all, he was just going to be a fling and didn’t need to know all the details.

  “Exactly,” I said finally. “Just like me and Jasmine.”

  CHAPTER 20

  We didn’t have time to go to the beach in the end. It was getting late, and we’d promised to meet up with the group at their resort in Bardez, which Sam told me was the party capital of Goa, with its nightclubs, bars, music festivals, and beach parties. Luckily, Diya was several years past her bar star phase and wanted to have a low-key night.

  After tea with Aasha Auntie, Sam and I took a taxi over to the hotel. It was only a twenty-minute drive, but it felt like an eternity because Sam and I still weren’t saying much to each other. He was acting all nervous again, which was putting me back on edge. I wondered if he was second-guessing his decision to invite me to Goa. We hadn’t kissed or so much as held hands since yesterday, when he left me to sleep off the rest of my food poisoning back in Mumbai. A few times during tea, he looked at me like he wanted to, but Aasha Auntie was around, and I didn’t let myself get within a foot of him.