Chapter 35 Dina
Dina
The restaurant is so busy that it feels like it might never empty out, but as it gets dark, customers begin to trickle away, until there are only a handful left near closing time. Deen and I have been so busy serving everyone, and talking to people, that we have barely had any downtime.
Now, I go up to Deen, who is waiting by the register. I expected that he would be smiling from ear to ear, but he looks a little downtrodden.
‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ I ask.
Deen looks up at me and a smile appears on his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Nothing. This has been great. I could never have expected this kind of turnout.’
‘Yeah, it’s been so amazing. And so many reviewers and influencers – hopefully they’ll just drive more people to come here.’
‘Yeah.’ Deen nods. ‘How did so many of them even know to come here? Did you tip them off?’
I shake my head. I’ve been too busy to really think about Maya and what she’s done. Now that I am thinking about it, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.
‘I think it was Maya,’ I admit.
Deen raises an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
I shrug. ‘She has connections, I guess. There were a few people here that she would know, so it would make sense.’
‘Wow. I didn’t know Maya was such a big fan of me,’ Deen says haughtily.
I roll my eyes and elbow him in the ribs.
He smiles. ‘You should talk to her.’
‘I don’t know. I mean, why would she want anything to do with me, after everything?’ I ask.
‘You’re joking, right? If she didn’t want anything to do with you, she wouldn’t send influencers to this launch. She wouldn’t even know about it, because she wouldn’t be keeping tabs. Dina, Maya did this for you, not for me. Because she obviously still cares about you.’
I have a hard time believing Deen’s words, even though I want to. Because Maya isn’t here. If she really cared about me, if she still wanted something to happen between the two of us, wouldn’t she be here? Wouldn’t I be having this conversation with her instead of my brother?
‘I don’t know. It felt like last time we talked it was over between us. For good. I mean, she could have come here. That would have been a reason to see me, to hash things out, but she hasn’t. She’s never tried to see me since she came back, since we broke up.’
‘Well, she was in America after you broke up,’ Deen says. ‘And after she got back here, she was probably just reeling from everything. Besides, didn’t you say she told you that you broke her heart?’
‘Well, she broke mine too!’ I say.
‘I just think that it must be hard for her – to put herself out there with you again.’
I can’t believe Deen is taking her side over mine. And almost as if Deen can read my mind, he puts up his hands as if in surrender.
‘And it’s hard for you too, I know it is. But this was Maya putting herself out there. Maybe it’s your turn now.’
I swallow thickly, thinking about the last time I put myself out there with Maya.
The night that we kissed. It hadn’t fixed anything.
It had only made things a million times worse.
But maybe I wasn’t in the right state of mind then – I was drunk and sad, still blaming Maya for my failures.
I’m not sure if I blame her for those things anymore.
‘I guess … maybe I’ll try,’ I say. ‘I’ll think about it.’
Deen rolls his eyes, but nods, like he knows it’s the most he’ll get out of me for now.
‘So, why don’t you look happy about the restaurant?’
Deen blinks at me, clearly not expecting the question.
‘I’m happy,’ he says defensively. Then, he sighs and leans back against the counter, his eyebrows creasing.
‘It’s just … Ma never showed up. I told her about it, and I thought that she would but …
’ He shrugs, like he doesn’t even care, but he clearly does.
Ma showed up for my football match, even though I know that she probably didn’t want to.
But maybe that was different – it’s not like Baba was tied up in football the way he was tied to this place.
‘Maybe it’s hard for her, the idea of coming here and seeing it so different to what it was when Baba was alive,’ I suggest.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Deen says. ‘I just would have thought … I don’t know, I tried to honour him and his memory, you know?
I tried to do things the way I thought he would want them to be done.
I mean, this place is me and my vision, but it’s also his.
It always will be. It wouldn’t exist without him. I thought … Ma would want to see that.’
‘I know.’ I put a hand on his shoulder, but there really isn’t much else that I can say to him. ‘She’ll come around, I’m sure of it.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
Only a few minutes go by before the door to the restaurant opens again. With it being as late as it is, I go to turn the customer away, only to notice that it’s Ma.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, surprised that she made it here after all. Surprised that she made it here so late. That’s not really like her.
‘Deen asked me to come,’ she says. She walks past me and towards Deen, and I notice that she’s carrying a cardboard box in her hands, which she sets down on the counter in front of Deen.
‘Ma, you came.’ Deen is clearly as surprised to see her as I am, having given up hope.
‘I would have been here earlier. Actually, I was here earlier,’ Ma says. ‘But I had to get something.’
‘You were here?’ Deen asks, while I peer at the cardboard box and ask, ‘What did you have to get?’
Ma frowns at me before turning to answer Deen. ‘I came here, and I saw the place. And then I left to get this.’
Deen looks to me, worry visible in his eyes.
Nothing about Ma’s expression or her words are giving away whether she hates the place or likes it.
Maybe she was so offended by what Deen has done with the restaurant that she had to leave and come back with all of the old decor, which Deen had stuffed away in the attic.
Maybe she’s going to demand that Deen put it all back.
From the look on Deen’s face, he definitely fears something like that.
Ma doesn’t say any more, she just opens up the cardboard box and takes something out, brandishing it towards Deen. It looks like a piece of paper – no, a poster. I lean forward, trying to catch a glance at it, and when I do, I don’t know what to think.
It’s an old poster – a little worn around the edges – but I know what it is immediately.
It’s a poster of a Bengali movie. From the looks of it, a fairly old one too.
There are bold red Bangla words brandished on the front, with a girl with her black hair in a floral bun standing back to back with a guy wearing a biker jacket.
‘What is this?’ Deen asks.
Ma’s face seems to soften at the question, and she sighs.
‘I used to collect these movie posters, back when I had dreams of becoming an actress. All of these Bangladeshi movies that I went to watch, or even the Indian ones. I would squirrel away the posters. It was my prized collection because I imagined one day adding my own movie poster to it.’ Ma has a faraway look in her eyes, like she’s imagining that scenario, like she can see it even if it’s not real.
‘But … it never happened, and so I put them away in this box, and never looked at them again. Your baba always wanted me to go after my dream. Even when we were struggling, and I was working night shifts all the time. Even when we were barely able to make ends meet – your baba never gave up on his dreams, and he didn’t want me to give up on mine either. ’
Ma pauses, looking around at the restaurant, her face softening even more. I can almost see the younger version of her; the one who still had bright dreams and hope in her eyes.
‘He had so many dreams for this place and he did so much to make those dreams come true. But he couldn’t.
Yet when I walked in here, I thought, this was it.
This was his dream. For this place to be full of people and love and laughter.
He may not be here to see it, but I know he would be proud.
And you made it happen, Deen.’ She pauses to look between me and Deen, wearing a smile that I don’t think I’ve ever seen on her before.
‘You both went after your dreams, went after what makes you happy. Your baba would have been so happy.’
She looks from Deen to me, pride sparkling in her eyes.
She reaches forward, cupping Deen’s cheeks in her hands. ‘When I came in here, and saw this place, I thought about these posters, and my dreams. I want you to have them, for the restaurant. I know you asked all of your aunties and uncles for things, I know you went around the charity shops—’
‘How did you—’ Deen begins to ask.
‘I see a lot more than you think I do,’ Ma says, and it’s true.
It does sometimes feel like she has some kind of sixth sense about everything and anything going on with the two of us.
‘But you never asked me, and if you had, I would never have offered these or anything at all. But seeing this place so lively and full of people made me realise that they deserve to do more than collect dust under my bed. They should be here, on the walls.’
Deen nods, looking at the poster again. I can see it in his eyes – he can already envision these posters lining the walls. I can too.
‘I think this is what’s been missing,’ he says. ‘Because this place has Baba, me, Dina.’ Deen looks to me with a smile. ‘And now it’ll have you.’