There was, of course, the traditional assortment of sweets, including peda, reminding me of the fateful day I’d met Liya. I smiled at the once frustrating memory. She’d knocked half the sweets onto the ground, and the others went into the trash the moment I’d gotten home. This woman went from infuriating to picking out a baby gift for my family. How did we get here? How did we get from constant fighting to me wanting to touch her lips?
A smaller table to the right held plates, utensils, napkins, plastic champagne flutes, and five kinds of drinks plus a punch bowl with sherbet melting in the middle like an iceberg. Friends and family had gone all out, but of course Ma had orchestrated it all. She was over the moon and blissfully doting on Shilpa.
Speaking of Ma…I asked her, “Did Bhabhi mention that she’d invited Liya?”
She smiled warmly at the new brood of guests walking in. “Shilpa asked if it was okay.”
“Of course, Bhabhi would always ask you first. But are you okay with Liya coming here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Are you okay?” She arched a sharp brow.
“Um. Yes. We don’t hate each other or anything. But I thought, after the dinner gone wrong—”
She waved off my worry. “Liya is a nice girl.”
“Liya Thakkar?” I asked, baffled.
“She apologized nearly right away. She explained the misunderstanding and her behavior. I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
“Ah…okay…” How Liya had been so infuriating with me but kind to my family was beyond me. I already knew that I had her all wrong, but leave it to Liya to constantly remind me of just how wrong I’d been.
Shilpa made her way inside and hugged me as I took the last bite of the mini dabeli. Jahn slapped my back and grinned as more guests arrived. The corner table, once empty, was now piled high with gifts. We mingled and chatted. Music played softly in the background. Incense burned. The back doors opened to a wide patio filled with cushioned seats.
The aunties, with Ma and Shilpa’s mom, huddled at one end or another unless they were fussing over Shilpa.
“Having you men around will keep them from giving out labor and delivery advice,” Shilpa whispered.
“I hope so,” I whispered back.
Jahn elbowed me. “What? You don’t want to hear about mucus plugs and how to tilt a uterus?”
I cringed as Shilpa added, “It’s not even possible to tilt my uterus. I guarantee you, eighty percent of their advice is from old wives’ tales.”
She laughed as a group of women stole her away. They joined a group of aunties while the guys hung around the food.
“This is good baby shower food,” Shilpa’s brother said.
“I want some of that barfi Shilpa’s mom made.”
When I scanned the ever-growing crowd, some of the aunties frowned, their glares glued to the hallway behind us, and I knew Liya had entered. The tension from them immediately thickened. Nonetheless, either immune or not having noticed, Liya cordially greeted Jahn first with Preeti, Sana, and Reema in close tow.
She said, with that starlet smile that started to do some intense things to my gut, “I’m so happy for you guys. And thanks for having me.”
He gave her a side hug, welcoming her. She hardly looked at me or my welcoming expression. Instead, she gave me a nod. Which was good, I supposed, seeing that I had the growing need to hug her.
Jahn introduced her to others nearby. Most greeted her like normal, manner-minding people, but then there were the few who politely nodded and returned to their conversations. Liya didn’t seem fazed until her steady, studious glances turned into a glare when she and Mukesh Uncle made eye contact. Something in him shifted as well.
Did he believe all those nasty things about her? Did she abhor his religious sermon every Sunday? What in the world had transpired between them to create this immediate, malicious environment that everyone noticed?
My need to hug Liya intensified. I went to walk toward her, to defuse the tension, but Liya snapped out of the momentary hostile takeover and placed her giant gift bag on the floor next to the table and headed to her mother. There was a fleeting look of annoyance on her father’s face, but perhaps he was still upset with how things had gone down with that fateful dinner. Despite my having told him not to worry about it, it wouldn’t hurt to remind him that things were fine now, if that meant he would ease off Liya.
Liya ignored him and hugged her mother. I couldn’t tell if the awkwardness stemmed from their height difference, as Liya was about a foot taller than her mother, or if it came from the physical contact in public. Still, they embraced for a few seconds and pulled away to chat. Then Ma walked over and joined in, and suddenly the ladies burst into laughter. Ma had that way about her, putting everyone at ease. It was nice to see, and my heart filled. There were lots of aunties here, and many had single daughters, but Ma kept circling back to Liya’s mother. Had they become good friends, despite the epic dinner fail? Or were they secretly plotting to try things again?
Either way, it was a warm sight. And for half a minute, my brain foresaw this sort of thing happening a lot in the future. The women in my life having a good time. Moving on, the way Jahn said Dad would want us to. Finding real happiness in a relationship that was sanctioned by my family. But I dislodged that thought. Getting my hopes up was a dangerous thing.
Then Liya escaped into the backyard.
The air changed the instant she left the room. While we guys seemed unaffected by Liya’s presence, the aunties huddled like witches over a cauldron, snapping their tongues about the unclean girl in their house. I clenched my jaw and took a step forward, but Jahn clamped a hand over my shoulder and subtly shook his head while maintaining his conversation.
At least Preeti, Sana, and Reema had arrived alongside Liya. She wasn’t completely alone, although Shilpa wouldn’t stand for any negativity at her shower. Shilpa was a lot like Liya in many ways, and she’d put everyone in their place, elder or not.
The backyard crowd filed in when the last of the guests arrived. Ma seemed pleasantly surprised when a pretty young woman walked in. She was none other than Kaajal, who walked directly to her parents: Mukesh Uncle and his wife. The way they held themselves, upright and arms in specific positions during conversations; the nice clothes and gold packaged gifts; the classic hairstyles. These people were made of money, or at least acted like they were.
Ma walked the trio toward us as Jahn and I split from the guys to meet them partway. “Kaajal, this is my oldest, Jahnu.”
“Nice to meet you. Congratulations,” Kaajal said.
“Thank you,” Jahn replied.
“And my youngest, Jayesh.”
“Nice to finally meet you, too.” She smiled invitingly, full lips, great teeth, big, brown eyes lined with makeup. The woman was absolutely stunning.
“Kaajal just finished pharmacy school,” Ma added. “She was hired at the drugstore but wants to spend some time relaxing before work begins. I was telling her that maybe she could rent a boat and go to the lake. Maybe you and some of the young ones would like to do that.”
Heat prickled up the back of my neck. I tried not to glance at Jahn, who probably grinned like an idiot, or look at Kaajal’s parents, who waited for my response.
But Kaajal herself gave plenty of space and an out. “I’ll have to get your information later and check out my schedule. Let me say hi to Shilpa first, before she gets inundated with gifts and pictures.” She held up a gold-wrapped box and meandered toward the girls, while her parents and I were left alone to an inevitable conversation.