A Holly Jolly Diwali

by Sonya Lalli

  “Oh, Sam,” I whispered.

  “Yes, love?”

  Fortunately, I hadn’t forgotten how much I loved to tease him.

  “It’s too late.”

  I felt Sam’s body stiffen beneath my touch, and my face deadpan, I took a half step backward.

  “It’s that Raj bloke, isn’t it?”

  I let out a huge sigh, forcing my body to tremble as I unwrapped myself from his arms.

  “We’re betrothed.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed.

  “We’ve had the rokka and everything.”

  Sam caught on, the edges of his mouth curling up into a sly smile.

  “You should leave before he gets here,” I said, swallowing a laugh as I tried to keep my expression neutral. “Otherwise, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Will there, now?” Sam set his hands around the small of my waist, squeezing. “Shall I challenge him to a duel?”

  “Do you have a sword?”

  “I have a bass guitar—”

  I giggled, the charade over, wrapping my arms around Sam. I pulled him into me again, hard, rocking back and forth against his body.

  “You gave me a fright there for second,” he whispered into my hair. A beat later he kissed me sweetly on the forehead.

  “You thought I’d run off with the doctor?”

  “No,” Sam said dryly. “I thought I’d have to fight the doctor.”

  I laughed and reached up to kiss him. I was halfway to his lips when the antlers on the hood of my onesie bonked him in the face.

  “Can you take these off?” Breathing heavily, he pulled down my hood, antlers and all. “It’s cute, but it’s in the way.”

  “Only in a Bollywood movie would the heroine be dressed up in a reindeer suit.”

  Sam pulled me tight, his mouth close to mine. “No Bollywood movie I’ve ever seen.”

  This time, there were no antlers in the way when our lips touched. I melted into him, into the kiss, our hearts beating fast as I wound my hands through his hair and hung on for dear life. A kiss that was full of love and hope and mystery and . . .

  We pulled away in a daze, the overhead lights blinding us. I spun around, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. Mom, Dad, and Jasmine were in the doorway.

  “Hey . . .” I took a giant step away from Sam. “Um, so this is Sam.”

  He took a step forward, touching his hands together and bowing. “Sat Sri Akaal, Uncle-ji.” He turned to Mom and flashed her a smile. “Auntie-ji.”

  I was impressed that Sam had used my community’s greeting with my parents, and Mom seemed to be, too. In fact, her eyes were rather shiny, and she seemed to be completely taken with him.

  “Nice to meet you, Sam.” Mom glanced around the room, eyeing the diya. “Jasmine mentioned this would be happening. It is a very nice gesture.”

  “Indeed.” Dad cleared his throat. “Welcome. How long will you be leading on my beloved daughter this time?”

  “Dad!” Jasmine and I exclaimed simultaneously, just as Mom jabbed him in the ribs.

  “No, it’s OK.” Sam held eye contact with my father, who had puffed up his shoulders and was doing his best to come across as a scary uncle. “I made a mistake. And I intend to work hard to earn back your daughter’s trust and respect.” Sam paused, bowing again. “And yours, too, Uncle-ji.”

  Dad glared at Sam for three more seconds, and I was about to think that maybe Sam would actually have to fight someone today when Dad eased up. He grunted his approval, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Well, that was quite the speech,” Mom said demurely. She rolled up her sleeves, ready to get back to the day. “But Sam. Beta. I hope you know. You will be sleeping the guest room.”

  EPILOGUE

  Eleven months later

  A cool breeze blew off the ocean as we arrived at the beach, the sparkling Goan sun sinking into the horizon. We laid out blankets on the sand, unearthed the beer and Limca from the cooler, handed out plates of samosa and mango salad. The new single from Blackpink started playing on the Bluetooth speaker, and I smiled, catching Sam’s eyes from a few feet away. Tonight’s playlist didn’t feature your typical Diwali music. It had everything from TLC and D’Angelo to India’s Top 40. Jennifer Lopez circa 2001 to John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”

  It was a playlist Sam and I had created together. Like our yearlong relationship, it was a compromise.

  “Does anyone have matches?” Pradeep Uncle asked suddenly.

  “Right here.” Sam patted his shirt pocket before retrieving the small box. “Would you like some help?”

  “Sure.” Uncle smiled, sitting back on his heels. “Thanks, son.”

  The evening grew darker, and I tried not to watch Sam and his father working together, lighting the diya Aasha Auntie and I had laid out in the shape of a mandala. Sam and his father had come a long way that year, mended the fabric of their relationship together. From what Sam had told me, they still had a long way to go, but small, civil exchanges were a very good start.

  Eating and drinking, we huddled together as the air cooled, and even though I was shivering, I felt warm inside. Not only was I spending Diwali with Sam, but we were back in Goa with both of our families. Aasha Auntie and Pradeep Uncle had a full house, all three of their kids home for the holidays, spouses and grandchildren in tow. Even Mom, Dad, and Jasmine had accepted Aasha Auntie’s invitation to come visit and had found our family an apartment in the same complex.

  I know. I know. Holidaying with both sets of families?

  “Holy wow—like, no pressure!” was how Diya phrased it after I’d told her about the trip. But Sam and I had been very clear with our parents before we booked the trip: we were in a serious relationship, but we were no way near ready for marriage. I mean, how could we be? This past year, we’d barely even seen each other.

  After spending two weeks together in Seattle last Christmas, Sam and I didn’t see each other again for six whole months, and the distance nearly finished us. We were both working hard in our own cities and at creating our own lives. There was simply no time to fly halfway around the world to visit each other.

  Sam found an assistant job at a record label in Mumbai and, on top of that, had gone back to school; having graduated from business school more than seven years earlier, he’d decided to take a few supplementary classes online through his alma mater, UCLA. Meanwhile, I started taking on freelance projects while I waited for the perfect job, and within a few months, I had enough clients to go solo. These days, I work for myself, and provide data analytics services and consulting to companies all over the country. I had a handful of big soulless clients that paid enough for me to move out of my parents’ house, buy a car, and rent a desk at a trendy coworking space. But I also had more than a dozen other clients that I worked with because I wanted to, like a music streaming start-up and my favorite romance fan fiction app. I could even afford to work with a few nonprofits and charity organizations for reduced rates or pro bono.

  With Sam in Mumbai and me in Seattle, it would have been all too easy to say goodbye, and there were moments I felt it seemed inevitable. With our unpredictable work schedules, sometimes we’d go days without video chatting, and the twelve-and-a-half-hour time difference made the distance even harder. There were so many reasons for Sam and I to go our separate ways, but I supposed there was another one that motivated us to stick it out: we loved each other.

  This past July, Sam’s boss finally gave him a week off work, and I met up with him in LA so we could both have a holiday. We stayed at his sister’s house in Pasadena and spent each day basking in each other’s company, being total tourists at the Santa Monica Pier, Rodeo Drive, or Hollywood Boulevard. One afternoon, we even took Sam’s nieces and nephew to Disneyland.

  Sam showed me around UCLA, the bars where he used to play gigs, and one night he join
ed me for dinner with my favorite client, Emilio. Emilio was the chief operations officer and cofounder of the music streaming start-up, and he and Sam got along like a house on fire. Emilio even let slip that the start-up was getting a cash infusion from investors, and they’d soon be expanding the team, creating a platform with more global content.

  And that, very soon, they’d be hiring.

  Sam and I tried not to get our hopes up. It was a long wait and a long shot, too, but the investment cash arrived. Emilio came through on his promise to get Sam an interview. And just two weeks ago, finally, after months of anticipation and four separate Zoom interviews, Sam was offered a job. The company was impressed by Sam’s background in business and real-world music experience in London and Mumbai. They wanted someone like him in their content strategy department and for Sam to move to LA by February.

  “Should we tell them now?” I whispered to Sam, scooting up next to him on the blanket.

  “I’m so nervous.”

  “Don’t be.” I cozied into him, hooking my arm through his. “Our parents will be happy for us.”

  “I’m not nervous about telling our parents we’re moving to LA,” Sam said. “I’m nervous about telling your parents we’ll be living together in LA.”

  I shushed him, giggling. We were planning to make the “we’re not getting married” announcement later tonight, and nobody knew except Jasmine. I had tried to keep the secret from her, too, but slipped up within a few hours.

  I would miss Jasmine and my parents terribly, but the more I thought about the move, the more excited I became. I had always loved visiting LA, and working freelance, I could be mobile; I could fly back to Seattle and work remotely from my old bedroom as often as I wanted.

  I also had the sneaking suspicion they’d visit Sam and me often, too. Mom and Dad had always talked about retiring someplace with more sun and less rain, like California. Maybe I would be the excuse. And now that Brian was out of the picture and Jasmine was looking for her next big adventure, maybe my best friend and big sister would come, too.

  Sam was similarly thrilled about going back to a city he knew and loved, and where his parents already visited often to see Leena and her family. He was starting to let go of the pursuit of being a rock star, because I think he finally realized he’d already lived that dream. No, he wasn’t Mick Jagger, Jimi Hendrix, or Bowie, but Sam had accomplished what he’d set out to achieve. For years he’d lived a full, exciting, passionate life as the bass guitarist of Perihelion, and now it was time to turn the page and start the next chapter. To build a new sort of career in the music industry, one he never even knew was possible.

  It seemed almost too good to be true, like one of my little fantasies, the way things were starting to work out. The way that what was best for both of us as individuals was the best-case scenario for us as a couple, too. But wasn’t that how it was supposed to be? Being in love wasn’t just about how you felt about the other person. It was how you felt about yourself when you were with that person. It was knowing, without a doubt, that you were living each day as the best version of yourself.

  The first burst of light shot off in the distance, and a hush came over the beach as everyone settled in together for the fireworks. I rested my head against Sam’s shoulder, and while everyone was distracted, I reached up and kissed him.

  Diwali was the Festival of Lights. The celebration of the goodness in this world over darkness. A holiday that could be whatever anyone wanted it to be. And for Sam and me, having first fallen for each other on Diwali, I knew it would always be the day we celebrated our love for each other, too.

  Acknowledgments

  I am so thankful for my family and friends for their ongoing love and support. Thank you to Martha Webb and everyone at CookeMcDermid. I am so lucky to have you in my corner.

  Thank you to Berkley, particularly Kerry Donovan, Brittanie Black, Fareeda Bullert, Mary Baker, Vikki Chu, and Will Tyler, as well as Penguin Random House Canada for championing me here at home. A huge thanks also to Federica Leonardis and Stephanie Caruso, as well as to the librarians, booksellers, bloggers, event organizers, and more who have supported me and my books.

  Finally, I want to thank my husband, Simon Collinson. You are the reason this romance writer is a romantic.

  READERS GUIDE

  A Holly

  Jolly Diwali

  SONYA LALLI

  Questions for Discussion

  Why do you think Niki agrees to being set up with Raj?

  What do you think pushes Niki to throw caution to the wind and book the last-minute trip to Diya’s wedding in Mumbai?

  When they meet on Diwali, Sam teases Niki that it was fate that brought them together; Niki was meant to lose her job so she could come to India. What do you think of this? Have you ever experienced a setback in life, only for it to lead you somewhere better?

  Why doesn’t Niki stand up to the “sour-faced auntie” in the restroom who comments on Niki’s caste and skin color? And why do you think the interaction affected her so much?

  Niki and Sam were drawn to each other the first moment they laid eyes on each other. Do you believe in love—or lust—at first sight?

  Aasha Auntie is a modern auntie who revels in defying stereotypes about “auntie culture,” which often portrays South Asian middle-aged and older women in a negative light. Did anything surprise you about her character?

  As a child, Niki is teased by her peers for mispronouncing jeera, leading her to wonder why her parents never bothered to teach her to speak their language. Why do you think Niki’s mom and dad made the choices they made?

  What do you think about Niki’s impulsive decision to look for a job in London, and why do you think Sam reacted so poorly to the news?

  Sam has a complicated relationship with his father, who never supported Sam’s musical ambitions. In what ways did this affect Sam’s decision-making when it came to both his career and romantic life?

  Niki often doesn’t tell her parents the whole truth in order to protect the image they have of her as the “good daughter.” Could you relate to anything about Niki’s relationship with her mom and dad? Did you enjoy how it evolves over the course of the novel?

  Sam followed his dreams, while Niki played it safe and chose a stable career. What did you think about where each of them ended up? Is there a right and a wrong choice?

  Niki often wrestles with her self-identity and the expectations that come with the labels “American” or “Indian.” How do you think her trip to India helped or hindered her personal growth over the course of the book?

  In India, Niki discovers there are so many ways to celebrate and experience Diwali—both religious and secular. Can you relate with any unique holiday traditions in your own life?

  Photo by Ming Joanis at A Nerd’s World

  Sonya Lalli is a romance and women’s fiction author of Punjabi and Bengali heritage. Her debut novel, The Matchmaker’s List, was a Target Diverse Book Club Pick, and Sonya’s books have been featured in Entertainment Weekly, NPR, The Washington Post, Glamour, and more. She lives in Vancouver with her husband.

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