Chapter 19
Three days until the wedding
When they meet in the front yard the next morning, Leo is surprised that Ashok uncle speaks almost immediately. “I think this will be our last walk.”
“Wedding events start tomorrow so I guess so,” Leo says, feeling a little disappointed. These mornings with this quiet, calm man are something he looks forward to.
“Too bad,” Ashok uncle says but he may as well have pulled Leo into a bear hug.
Too bad, meaning Ashok uncle would have continued these walks if he could, too bad meaning he likes spending this time with Leo.
To Leo, “too bad” is really great. But there’s someone else who should be a part of this.
He pulls out his phone and quickly shoots off a text, keeping Ashok uncle in the front yard by pretending to tie his shoelaces.
“What’s up, why’d you …” Rishi trails off as he comes out to the porch and sees Leo standing next to his father-in-law-to-be. “Hi, Uncle.”
Ashok uncle simply nods back.
“Hey! So glad you decided to come on our morning walk with us,” Leo says, over-enunciating so Rishi understands. “That’s okay, right, Uncle?”
“Okay,” Ashok uncle replies.
They set out on their walk and the usual silence permeates. As he’s learned to do, Leo lets it. Rishi keeps shooting him confused looks. “What am I doing here?” he whispers.
Leo holds a palm up, like a sage: Wait and see.
At least, he hopes Rishi sees. His new approach of letting Ashok uncle speak first and when he wants has worked the last two days, but what if the equilibrium has been thrown off?
For ten minutes, no one says a word and Leo feels anxiety creep into the silence between the three of them.
The sun is brutal today and he realizes he forgot to put sunscreen on the back of his neck and it’s getting burnt.
He needs to do something different. “You know, Rishi, I’ve been thinking about—” He inhales, unable to believe the next word that he’s going to say. “Trees.”
“Trees?” Rishi parrots.
“Trees,” Leo repeats, sneaking a look at Ashok uncle. There’s no indication on his face that he’s even heard them. Leo really, really hopes Kavitha was correct about this. He tries to recall what facts came up when he searched “tree + Bengaluru” last night. “Have you ever seen the jacaranda tree?”
Rishi is staring at him like he has two heads. Like even a two-headed Leo would be less weird, unless one of those heads also started talking about trees. “Can’t say I have.”
“They’re the ones with the purple flowers,” Leo continues. “They’re native to the tropical regions of South America but they grow in parts of Australia, the U.S., and India.”
Behind Ashok uncle’s back, Rishi jerks his chin up at Leo, trying to figure out what’s going on. Leo waves him away. He needs Rishi to pick up his end of the conversation. He forges on. “There are also sandalwood trees and frangipani trees and rain trees and—”
“Stop saying the word ‘tree,’” Rishi hisses at him.
“And banyan trees,” Leo finishes lamely. They’re past the halfway point on their walk. Time is running out.
Then, out of nowhere: “My boarding school had beautiful banyan trees,” Ashok uncle says. Leo nearly fist pumps.
“I see,” he replies, playing it cool.
A few moments of silence pass and Rishi glances at his father-in-law before looking at Leo again. “I liked to read under them,” the older man continues.
“How was going to boarding school?” Leo asks. “Okay,” Ashok uncle says.
“Was it tough?”
“Not bad.”
Rishi opens his mouth but Leo reaches over and hits him to shut him up. He can feel it, there’s something coming, they just have to be patient—
“I didn’t have many friends in school. Because I was so quiet. Everyone always wanted me to talk,” Ashok uncle says, and out of the corner of his eye, Leo catches Rishi’s jaw dropping.
“You talk when you have something to say,” Leo offers.
“Haan, that only,” Ashok uncle says. “Then my parents matched me with Veena. She talked so much that I never needed to.”
Rishi’s eyebrows go up high. Ashok uncle may have spoken more this morning than he has in the entire time his son-in-law has known him. Leo elbows him and Rishi snaps out of it.
“It must be a genetic thing,” he says. “Geeta talks through every single movie and TV show we ever watch together. I miss half the stuff that’s happening because I’m listening to her so I started watching shows by myself first. That way, she can talk as much as she wants.”
Leo opens his mouth to share Simran’s habit—pausing every five minutes while she shares a fact she looked up—but realizes he can’t.
“Once, we were kicked out of a movie theater because Veena was talking constantly,” Ashok uncle says. A fond smile crosses his face. “Then she argued so much that they let us back in.”
OPERATION DDLJ Chat
Leo Bridgers [11:52 a.m.]: Here to announce that pillar #2 of Op DDLJ has been secured. Ashok uncle has had three whole conversations with me.
Kavitha Iyer [11:53 a.m.]: not that you’re bragging or anything
Leo Bridgers: [11:54 a.m.]: No, I am bragging. They said it couldn’t be done but they hadn’t met me yet.
Kavitha Iyer [11:54 a.m.] put that victory dance on pause because tonight, you’re tackling Veena Iyer
Leo Bridgers: [11:56 a.m.] Any chance I can just get one more day before our Veena aunty plan?
Rishi Chopra: [12:01 p.m.] Didn’t take u for a procrastinator, Leo.
Leo Bridgers: [12:03 p.m.] Abject terror can make you do all sorts of things you never thought you’d do.
Geeta Iyer [12:04 p.m.] The mehndi is tomorrow! The sangeet’s the day after! And then it’s the wedding and reception! NOTHING is being pushed back!
Kavitha Iyer [12:05 p.m.] you’ve woken the dragon
Leo Bridgers [12:06 p.m.] Sorry Geeta! We’re staying on schedule.
Rishi Chopra [12:08 p.m.]: Time to shamelessly suck up to Veena aunty
Simran Gopal [12:09 p.m.]: And how is this any different than the other times Leo has crashed and burned with Veena perima? No offense, Leo. (But it’s true)
Leo Bridgers [12:10 p.m.]: A little taken! (Yeah, I know it is.)
Kavitha Iyer [12:10 p.m.]: because tonight, Leo is going to say the eight most important words he ever will to my mother: you are the best cook I’ve ever met
Rishi Chopra [12:11 p.m.]: and he’s gonna say them in front of MY mother
Leo Bridgers [12:14 p.m.]: Shot and chaser.
Rishi Chopra [12:13 p.m.]: It’s a genius plan!
Simran Gopal [12:14 p.m.]: You’re using the word “genius” and the word “plan” very liberally here.
Kavitha Iyer [12:15 p.m.]: hater
That night, both families gather at Iyer House, a last dinner before the events kick off and the wedding guests start arriving in droves tomorrow. Leo tags along, grimacing only slightly when Veena aunty purses her lips and says, “Oh. Leo, you’re also here.”
“Amma,” Kavitha admonishes. Leo brushes it off. There’s something about Veena aunty’s digs that don’t feel very personal. She’s treating him like she would any interloper to her family. It’s basically a rite of passage.
The whole group shoves in around the dinner table, crowded with extra chairs.
No one waits on formality, immediately reaching across and over the people next to them to fill their plates.
Leo is seated strategically between Kavitha and Rishi because they’ll give him a subtle signal as to what foods he can eat that won’t trigger his bland palate; he’ll then, completely spontaneously, compliment it so effusively that Veena aunty will forget to actively dislike Leo.
A bowl of white rice and grated cucumber mixed with yogurt, dotted with mustard seeds and curry leaves, is put down right in front of him.
Rishi’s elbow jabs into his ribs from one side, Kavitha from the other.
So much for subtle. Just as Leo is about to take the spoon, the bowl gets yanked out of his reach by Veena aunty.
“Eh, why are you eating the thaiyar saddam first?” Everyone stops to look at him. “That’s what you end with,” she says.
“I heard your um, tha-thayeer-thai—your yogurt rice was your specialty, so I wanted to try it,” Leo says. He reaches for it again but stops at Veena aunty’s look.
“What, you think I only know how to make one thing well?” Veena aunty asks hotly.
“Of course not,” he replies immediately.
“Then you’ll take some of everything,” she says, and scoops a spoonful of every dish, except the yogurt rice, which has migrated to the other side of the table. With no other choice, Leo starts with a charred eggplant preparation—it looks like the mellowest of them all.
It’s not. He quickly switches to the dish next to it, string beans flecked with coconut and something else.
He can’t figure out what that something else is, but it’s not mild either.
He knows he’s turning red. He can feel the heat on his skin, like it’s as inflamed as his tongue.
He zigzags across his plate, looking for respite as his mouth only becomes increasingly fiery.
But he continues to eat because the worst thing he could do is not finish the food Veena aunty served him, especially with her watching him.
“So, Leo. Tell us about yourself. What do you do in Toronto?” she asks.
Is she joking? Now she wants to talk? Leo can barely breathe, let alone speak. He’s fairly sure steam is coming out of his ears.
“I—” He can barely form a word. “… work in language translation.” There. He did it. He answered her.
“Eat the gojju,” she says, pointing at the fieriest, reddest food on his plate. Next to him, Rishi is staring at his plate, shaking his head no. Kavitha coughs into her napkin, “Don’t eat it.”
“How old are you?” she asks, just as he’s taking a bite.
The moment the food touches his tongue, he thinks he might black out.
He’s going to fall face-first into his plate and then his whole body will spontaneously combust. The worst part is that even as Sim and the others shoot him pitying looks, they’re eating all the same foods, completely unaffected.
It’s not just painful, it’s humiliating.
He manages to answer Veena aunty, but he’s not sure if he says twenty-eight or eighty-two.
Even his brain is burning. How does this woman keep on finding everything that Leo is bad at and making him do it?
Eventually, dinner, and his torture, wind down, ending with Leo wolfing down almost the entire bowl of Veena aunty’s yogurt rice.
If his taste buds hadn’t been scorched off, he’d call it delicious.
He’s sweat through his shirt and there are tear tracks on his face but he can’t care.
He’s survived. Veena aunty might have burned the competitiveness right out of him.
“Kavitha, Simran—did you finish the party favors I asked you to put together?” Veena aunty asks, out of the blue.
Both Kavitha and Simran look at each other, alarmed. “I did some! I gave the rest to Kavi because I had to work!” Simran says, pointing at Kavitha.
Kavitha points back at her. “You said you’d done half! You’d barely done any!”
“We need them for tomorrow! How are we going to make five hundred gift bags in one night?” Veena aunty says, somehow looming over them from the far side of the table.
“Actually,” Leo says, smiling, though it’s probably closer to a grimace.
“I did them. They’re in the box by the front door.
” He had recognized the procrastination that would lead to this exact moment when he was talking to Kavitha the other day.
It reminded him of Liv. So, despite getting barely two hours of sleep last night, he finished every last one and dropped the box off this morning before his run.
The look of surprise on Veena aunty’s face is maybe better than any goal or point he’s ever scored.
He wishes he could parade around the table, arms raised in victory, the Canadian national anthem playing.
After all, he is nothing short of a champion for going head-to-head with Veena Iyer.
He’d settle for lying face down in a tub of ice. He’s still sweating.
“Good,” Veena aunty says with a tight nod, and Leo knows she means “Thanks.” Kavitha gives him a surreptitious thumbs-up and Rishi jerks his chin at him in recognition.
Even Geeta, across from him, shoots him a dainty, approving smile as Simran tucks hers away while she gathers the plates.
It’s enough for Leo to feel like he might be able to win the whole damn game.
He’d had his doubts, but the benefit of being an optimist is that there is always a chance.