CHAPTER EIGHT

The next morning, we were all sitting at the dining table, my Mumma was busy trying to stuff Arnav and I full with those lovely sandwiches she’d made. Arnav had woken me up late, as he’d again sabotaged my alarm earlier in the morning, and he called my name “Kriti ji,” in the same caring way you’d use to awaken a baby. He was all handsome and ready to go before he roused me. Why did he always do that to me? It made me feel stupid, him looking like that and I still in my nightie. I’d forgotten all about my anger with Daddy, like I always did. I could never hold a grudge against anyone. And, after all, he was my father, how could I forget that love we both had for each other? My eyes fell upon Arnav. Of course I knew the reason for his amused grin. I was busy talking with Daddy. I was a little embarrassed as I remembered that I’d decided, last night during my emotional trauma, that I wouldn’t come back home again after today. Betu broke our silent connection.

“What is happening Jeeju, between the newlywed couple?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Your Didi is forgetful, she forgot something in her room.”

“She’s always been like that,” Betu exclaimed, without even caring to ask what I’d forgotten. Sometimes, I felt like Kavya had grown up so quickly. I felt like she was even more mature than I was. I grinned at the moment when Arnav again teased me. “Hmmm...actually it's not her fault. You know she needs a psychiatrist.” He high-fived my sister and both of them burst out laughing.

I slapped the table and shouted, “what the hell is this Arnav ji? Do I ‘need a psychiatrist’? That’s enough. Why do you always make fun of me? What twisted pleasure do you get out of it?”

He turned his head to the side, his smirk not leaving his face, “Kavya, could you please turn up the air conditioner? It’s getting too hot here.” My Mumma and Daddy had also joined us and they were amused with the little piece of entertainment my husband had made of me.

I frowned at their behavior and reached out for my coffee mug, “now I’ve decided it’s you that I won't ever be speaking to again.” I made the statement as though I were pronouncing a death sentence.

“As your wish,” he said, totally unaffected. I will kill him someday. I shot him an angry look, but all he did was laugh. Before he turned toward Mumma. “I think we better leave now. I need to get to work. I’ll drop Kriti ji at home first then head to the restaurant.”

Mumma approved as she nodded, her face still lit up by our little fight. When breakfast was tidied away, Mumma shooed me into the bedroom to collect my things. I was dragging my bag down the hallway when Arnav stopped me.

“What are you doing?” he approached me, his face again alarmed. I don’t understand how this man shifts his mood so quickly. “You should have asked me. It's too heavy for you.”

As he came forward, stretching out his hand to take my bag, I was still angry with him. I just turned my head to the side, avoiding his gaze. He clearly got the message.

“Okay, okay. I know you’re annoyed, but at least let me carry it. You can think of it as my punishment.”

I saw the logic of this and decided it would be fitting. I handed him the bag. Arnav took it and then went to my where my family was waiting by the door to wave us off. Kneeling in front of Mumma, he reached out his hand and brushed his fingers over the tops of her bare feet. The humble sincerity of the act made my anger thaw just the tiniest bit. I watched as my mother’s face gentled and she gave me a fleeting glance imbued with appreciation.

However much he may irritate me, the respect he shows to my family always just softens me. He was such a good son-in-law. I thought that gentle and respectful mannerism of his had impressed my family. He did the same for my Daddy and my Daddy patted his back, “you always have our blessings, son. Wish you both all the very best for your life.”

Daddy’s face glowed with the pride. ‘Son’. The word echoed in my ears. It felt like my husband and Daddy were the missing pieces of each other’s lives. A son which my Daddy may have wished for and a father which my husband had lost long before. My Daddy was happy that his choice for his daughter had not been wasted and his son-in-law was much more than what he’d expected from him.

He waved a quick goodbye to Kavya to which she replied, “bye bye, Jeeju. Let me know when she,” she inclined her head in my direction, “unfreezes.”

He was enjoying this with my sister. “Of course,” he added. “Take care, Betu. Oh, and your first term exams are starting next week, right?”

“Yup”

He winked at her. “Study hard.”

I was surprised that Betu hadn’t told me about her exams. I felt so envious of these two. Was he there to steal my sister? “Betu, you didn't tell me.”

“Didi, you didn't ask,” she clarified plainly, shrugging her shoulders.

“Right. Why would you share anything with me, now that you’ve got Jeeju?” I felt left out. “At least tell me if your lessons are complete?”

“Yes, Didi...almost,” she assured me.

“Good. Do well. Maintain that rank in class,” I ordered with sisterly authority.

“Yes, Didi,” she said with a look of feigned innocence on her face.

Arnav was staring us and then he interrupted, “Kriti ji, were you the national topper your whole time in school? I had no idea?”

“What?” I asked in utter confusion.

“Why are you putting so much pressure on her? She is doing her best. Tell her to give it her best shot and not to worry about the rank. What matters is the knowledge. Don't overburden her with that kind of competition.”

I snarled at him giving him a signal to stay out of it. “It's between two sisters. Why are you interrupting between us?”

“You decided not to talk to me, remember?” he said, with that cunning smile and then, as he strode out the door carrying my overnight bag like it weighed nothing, he said, “come...we've got to leave now.”

I threw him a disgusted look and then hugged my mother and my Betu in a fierce goodbye. I told my family to take care of themselves. When I got to the car he was sitting in the driver's seat. He leaned across the car, stretching his arm out, throwing the muscles of his back and shoulders into stark relief, to open the door for me. Betu called to me from the house.

“See? Jeeju doesn't even let you open the door yourself. How can you be angry with him?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Shut up! And don't take his side!”

She just stood there grinning at me like a crazy person.

A song was playing as we drove, from a romantic movie. Lyrics which sang of a new romance sparking between a man and a woman.

I was sitting quietly, thinking about those happy faces of my family. Glimpses of last night were crossing my mind, the way we were holding hands, when he asked “are you okay now?”

My heart filled with warmth. I liked that considerate version of Arnav. When he was being gentle and not sarcastic. My happiness could have been radiating on my face with a glow. I knew he was referring to last night. “Yes, it’s alright. It is what it is.”

He nodded. “You know, we can’t do anything about the past but we can at least change things now.”

I asked, “what can we do for Mumma? She’s too adjusted to her life, now. In fact, what can we do for anyone really?”

His hands clutched the steering wheel tightly as he released a breath. “Maybe you’re right, but we can start with ourselves.” His eyes shifted to me suddenly, he spoke softly but passionately, “you can start trying to accept your new life. It’s not that bad Kriti ji. You’ve got more freedoms than you realize. Try to embrace it.”

I looked at his sincere face. “I already like it a lot, maybe I’ve started to accept it, too. I was happy with my old life, but I never expected that things would turn out so well.”

He stopped the car in front of a small ice-cream parlor nestled between buildings. I looked at him in a quick alarm. “Why are we here?”

“Your gift Kriti ji.” He stepped out of the car.

I watched him as I questioned with confusion, “gift?”

He winked at me as he clicked open the car door. “It’s just a ‘thanks’ from my side. For that sleep mask.” He blushed.

We walked inside, my step ahead of his. “Which one?”

I decided to carry on with that playfulness. “It’s my gift, shouldn’t you be the one to pick it out for me?”

He chuckled. “Okay, so you want me to guess your favorite flavor? Just don’t get mad if I’m wrong.”

I laughed, “I won’t, I promise.”

“How about butterscotch?” His head tilted to one direction. I grinned and he knew immediately that he was right.

I didn’t know how he could have possibly known that. We sat inside the ice cream parlor where I was chatting with him about how Shubhangi and I used to go for walks and we never returned back home without ice cream. I was enjoying my ice cream, but Arnav just sat there, looking at me. His eyes on my face, watching me lick up my ice cream with a look that I couldn’t place. He was listening to everything, but not saying anything, just nodding and laughing sometimes while I was busy telling him stories about me and my friends. He just smiled with that depth in his eyes. That look was making me feel strange, but it didn’t discomfort me. We had just barely gotten into the car when his phone rang.

He picked it up and snapped at the caller before they could have even had a chance to say ‘hello’. “I'm on my way. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.” The executive was back.

When he ended the call and tossed the phone on the dash, I asked, “what happened? Are you late?”

“That was my assistant. He just needs me to deal with some paperwork. A new catering order.”

“Oh! If you're running late, then you go where you have to, and I’ll take a taxi,” I suggested.

“No. I’m dropping you off. I will just have to drive a little faster,” he said plainly.

“It's okay, really, I can go on my own. Just tell me the way this once.”

“I will drop you off,” he repeated in a tone that made it clear we weren’t going to argue about this. “I can't let you go alone like this. Now stop talking and put your seatbelt on. I'm late.”

“Thank you.” I adjusted my dupatta throwing my wallet on the dash. “For the ice cream…and for bringing me home. Again you’re taking trouble just for my comfort.”

He rolled the car out into traffic. “It's not about trouble. You are my responsibility. I have to make sure that you get home safely.”

More sweet, crooning songs played as he navigated the crowded streets. He hardly said another word during those thirty-five minutes back home. He actually doesn't talk much, where me on the other hand, I can't remain silent for two seconds.

“Arnav ji, change the song na, please.” Just to break the silence.

Without looking at me he pointed toward the phone. “That is the song list. Play whatever you want.” The playlist was titled Romantic Songs of The Decade.

“Romantic songs...Arnav ji, are you secretly a romantic under all that stuffiness?” I added, playfulness in my voice.

He cheeks reddened, “maybe. This is my favorite playlist. Can’t I listen to good music?”

“Of course you can listen to this, everyone can. I just never thought that you might have a romantic side, too.” I picked a song from the list.

“So what if I like romantic songs. One's preferences doesn't make the character of a person.” Arnav was in a defensive mode.

“It does.” I knew that I was right, it was unexpected for me that this perfect businessman could be romantic, too. “Choice are the foundation of a person's character. A sad and gloomy person will like sad music. It's all psychological you know,” I said flippantly.

He immediately stopped the car and turned toward me, one arm wrapping around the back of my seat. He looked at me in silence long enough for me to start to fidget in my seat.

“Is my psycho really talking about psychology?”

“Excuse me?” I replied, offended.

“I can’t drive fast like this. Be quiet now. I'm already late.”

My temper immediately flared. “Did you really stop the car to tell me to shut up?” I shouted into the small space.

“I've stopped the car because we’re at a traffic signal.”

I looked around, barely keeping my head from exploding, to see that we really were at a traffic signal. We started toward home after another moment, and this time I was entirely silent. As soon as we reached the house, I flung opened the door and hopped out of the Sedan without looking at him. It felt as if I’d been caged in that small space with him and now I was spreading my wings in freedom. He beat me to the front door, and before my hand could reach the bell, he pressed it. We stood outside for a minute in complete silence, waiting for Chhaya Didi to welcome us inside. After she opened the door and whisked away my bag, Arnav grabbed my arm stopping me from going inside.

“Don’t be mad, Kriti ji. See you in the evening.”

It took me a moment to realize that he was leaving. He’d already turned to go when I called after him, “just a minute Arnav ji, wait!”

“Yes, Kriti ji?” he looked at me over his shoulder.

“Won't you come inside?” I didn’t know why but I didn’t like him leaving so early.

“No, Kriti ji, I'm already late.”

Even though I was irritated with him, I didn’t really want him to go. “But, at least come in for a few minutes. At least meet everyone, and then you can go. Have some water or coffee first.”

“Meet everyone?” he snorted. “Kriti ji, I’m not going away forever. I’m just going to work, and I’ll be back tonight.”

I sighed, defeated. “Okay, then bye...take care.”

“Take care, Kriti ji...of our family,” he said, and he took off, jogging in that quintessentially masculine way to the car. I watched him from the doorstep the whole way. “What? Don't want to get inside?” he called from the car window.

“No, I want to.” I felt embarrassed.

“Then go.” He stared.

I waved awkwardly at him and all but ran inside.