Ch. 27 – Prem
P rem Dhawan didn’t scare easily. He’d performed half a dozen splenectomies. Sewn up jagged wounds. And snatched the faintest flicker of life from the jaws of death more times than he could count.
And yet, on this Saturday night, he felt sheer, unmitigated terror.
The source?
Two big blue eyes staring him down across the table of the Asian fusion restaurant.
Prem had kissed every inch of Layla’s body. Rescued a pig, a camel, and a cow with her by his side in that order. Connected with her in a way that felt soul deep.
But now his mouth was bone dry. His mind blank of any conversational topics. His hands jittering, sweating messes that he kept clamped onto his kneecaps. What if he royally screwed this up? What if, with his clothes on and no animals to heroically rescue, she found him wanting?
Seemingly oblivious to his personal crisis, Layla looked around the restaurant nervously, her braid already in her hands. “Are you sure no one will recognize us?”
“I doubt it,” Prem answered, slightly surprised his voice still worked. It’s why after picking her up from her mother’s house, he’d driven them an hour out of Yucca Hills to this small restaurant in Solana Beach.
“You say that, but the tentacles of the Yucca Hills Knitting Club are long,” Layla warned him.
“The knitting club?”
“Well, they pretend to be a knitting club, but it’s just a front.” Layla planted her elbows on the table and leaned forward as if to impart a dangerous secret. “In reality, they’re a rumor cartel. They trade in gossip and speculation. They’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. My mother’s a member.”
Prem chuckled. “I had no idea.” His hands relaxed, and he found himself leaning forward as if drawn across the table to her. “We’ll need to be careful.”
“Very careful,” she agreed. “If they catch wind of us, it’ll blaze through town like a wildfire on steroids.”
“Beware the Yucca Hills Knitting Club,” Prem intoned. Yet, even as he smiled, the truth of their situation hung over them like a grand piano creaking against fraying ropes. What would happen if someone in town found out that the new vet was dating his receptionist?
The receptionist who’d been engaged to someone else just a few weeks ago, by the way.
“Is this crazy?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered immediately, then smiled at his frown. “But I don’t regret being here. Do you?”
Her eyes peered into his.
“No.” He didn’t even have to consider the question.
She smiled at that.
A young woman with purple streaks in her hair approached the table. “Hi there, folks. I’m Hayden at your service. Have you two had a chance to look at the drinks menu?”
“Oh my gosh, Hayden, I love your earrings,” Layla gushed.
The waitress touched the pearl beads hanging from her right earlobe. “They were my great-grandmother’s. Gran Gran Vivian was a hella cool lady. Helped build warships in the 40s. Had great taste in jewelry, too.”
“Wow!” A warm smile lit Layla’s face. “She seems like an amazing woman.”
“Don’t make ‘em like Gran Gran Vivian anymore,” Hayden agreed. “But let’s get you some drinks.”
Prem caught Layla’s eyes. Sugar and spice and everything nice, he mouthed.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’ll have a glass of the pinot grigio.”
Prem ordered an amber ale.
As soon as the waitress left, Layla clasped her hands together and dropped her gaze.
“So, um, before we go any further, there’s something I need to tell you.” She nibbled on her lush lower lip, which always drove him just a little crazy.
Okay, more than a little.
“What happened at the stables and in the shower… I’m not that kind of girl.” Layla gazed up at him, her eyes plaintive.
Prem forcefully stifled a laugh. That free, beautiful, glorious woman he’d discovered in the stables and found again in the farmhouse shower had certainly seemed like her. In fact, it delighted him that the angelic beauty across the table from him possessed a little devil inside her.
“And, well,” More gnawing on her lower lip.
Heat pulsed in his groin.
“I just… I just want to take things slow from now on,” Layla continued. “Is that okay?”
No. It was very much not okay. Prem wanted her in the shower. Then against the wall. Then on a convenient table surface. And, maybe, if they had the energy, in bed.
Those blue eyes searched his, and he was undone.
“Sure.” Prem caught himself. “I mean, of course.” He reached across the table and took her small, delicate hands in his. “We can go at whatever pace you need, Layla. I want you to be comfortable.”
The words were true, even if his balls practically wept at the implications. If Layla needed time, he’d give her months. Years. Centuries.
Whatever it took.
The soft, relieved smile she gave him was all the gift he needed.
Hayden returned with their drinks and her phone which she used to show Layla several black and white pictures of a beautiful young woman in work coveralls and a welding helmet. The two spent ten minutes discussing the fascinating life and times of Gran Gran Vivian.
Prem didn’t mind the interruption. It gave him more time to watch Layla’s animated face, to hear the clear bell of her voice. Her enthusiasm and wonder were infectious, and he found himself slowly pulled into the story of Gran Gran Vivian waiting three years for her beau to come home from the Pacific front.
Finally, with Gran Gran Vivian reunited with her fellah and set to become the matriarch of a large, rambunctious family, Hayden put her phone away and asked for their dinner order.
Pursuing the menu, Prem asked, “Are you up for some veggie rolls as a starter? I’m a commie vegetarian, by the way. Hope that’s not a problem.”
Layla grinned. “Me too. Ten years ago, a farmer brought a hen named Matilda into the clinic. She was so sweet and sassy that I just couldn’t eat another chicken nugget after that.”
Prem matched her smile. “I feel the same way. I heal animals. Don’t eat ‘em.”
He ordered the veggie roll appetizers and they put in their main order, she a teriyaki tofu bowl and he a mushroom bento.
After the waitress left, Layla turned to look at the bamboo shoots and colorful bolts of silk hanging on the walls. Her silver headband winked in the overhead lights. While she studied the decorations, Prem put his chin in his hand and studied her.
Here she was, his Layla. His eyes drank in her heart-shaped face, the creamy color of her skin, and the perfect swoops of her golden eyebrows. She wore a summer dress covered in a pattern of peacock feathers that fit snugly over her shapely breasts. Prem forced his gaze up and noticed the tiny white scar just below her clavicle. He’d kissed that scar, tasted the raised skin on his tongue, but he knew nothing of where it’d come from or almost anything else about her life.
“I want to know about you,” he said.
She turned and laughed. “What, specifically?
“Everything.”
She laughed again.
Prem didn’t. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked. “Your favorite movie? How many siblings do you have? What made you want to grow your hair so long? Where did you get that scar on your chest?”
She looked down at their clasped hands. “I’m not actually that interesting. Not really.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I’m afraid it is.” She turned his hand over and idly traced the lines of his palm. The gentle strokes of her finger almost burned. “I live in the town I grew up in. I’ve only had one job. The only times I’ve left the country have been to go to resorts I didn’t really like. My favorite color is pink. My favorite movie is Love Actually. Boring, boring, boring.”
“Not boring.” Prem watched her finger move across his palm. “You draw faces on the treat jars in the office. You know the name and life history of every animal and human who walks through the doors. Every single person who’s ever met you loves you.”
“That’s not true!” she giggled.
Hayden appeared with their appetizer. Prem looked at the young woman. “You’ve met my date. Isn’t she lovely?” he asked.
“Stop!” Layla cried, burying her face into her hands.
“Tell the truth,” Prem goaded Hayden. “I promise, your tip will not be impacted by your answer.”
“Our girl’s amazing,” Hayden said immediately. “Nice and hot. Don’t get any better than that.” She looked at Prem. “If you weren’t dating her, I’d give her my number.”
“Really?” Layla’s face popped out of her hands. “Awwww, thank you, Hayden! That’s so sweet.”
The waitress set their plates down, winked at Layla, then left.
“See,” Prem said, “Hayden has spoken.”
“You’re so much more interesting than me,” Layla said. “You’re a veterinarian. You play the violin–”
“Barely anymore,” Prem cut her off.
“You have your own veterinary practice. Your best friend is a horse!”
“That is pretty cool,” Prem admitted.
“You save lives,” Layla pressed.
“So do you.”
She scoffed. “I’m a receptionist. I answer the phones and swipe the credit cards.”
Prem sat back in his chair with a groan. Here it was again. Layla downplaying her talents and worth. How could she be so blind to the good she did at the clinic?
“I have an idea.” Mischief winked in her eyes. “What if we try to guess facts about the other?”
“Hmmmm, you can try, but I’m very reserved and mysterious,” Prem answered.
Layla nibbled on a veggie roll held in her chopsticks. After chewing thoughtfully, she spoke. “You’re an only child.”
Prem pointed his chopsticks at her. “You already know I’m not.”
“But you act like an only child,” she replied. “Like you carry the entire world on your shoulders. Sometimes I forget what you look like without your brow furrowed.”
Prem sighed and rubbed the spot between his eyes with a knuckle. He tended to frown when he concentrated, which meant the expression stayed almost perpetually on his face.
“Sometimes I feel like an only child,” he admitted. “When my brother didn’t go to college, my parents cut him out of their lives. They never even say his name now.”
“Oh no!” Layla’s eyes widened with horror. “How could they do that?”
“They’re embarrassed by him, by his choices.”
“Are you?”
Her question sunk into him like an ice pick. He paused for a beat before answering.
“I was confused for a few years. Angry, even. It seemed like Jai was wasting his talent, his potential. But…” Prem picked up his beer. “I’m actually proud of Jai. I admire him for forging his own path, for having the strength to defy our parents. I wasn’t so strong.”
Layla’s hand squeezed his, sending a new wave of flames up his arm and into his chest. “You did choose your own path. You love being a vet.”
Prem took a long, slow drink of his beer, then set down the glass. “My turn.” He peered at her. “You have a whole tribe of siblings. Five at least, but you’re the oldest.”
Layla giggled. “I have one sister, and she’s four years older than me. We’re complete opposites.”
“In what way?” Prem tried to imagine the opposite of Layla. Was her sister an ogre? A lawyer? Oh dear lord, a politician?
Layla sipped her wine. “Alanna is amazing. Beautiful. Strong. Driven. She’s like this…this…” She slipped her hand from Prem’s grip to draw a shape in the air.
“Your sister is a sentient floating square?” Prem guessed. “Wait, don’t tell me. A suitcase?” He widened his eyes. “Do you think your purse is your sister?”
She leaned over the table to swat at him. “No! Alanna is like a force unto herself. Whenever she goes after something, she gets it. Nothing can stop her.”
“Battering ram. Your sister is a battering ram.”
That comment earned him another playful swat. Then Layla fell back in her seat. “You’re not wrong, though. Alanna definitely has some battering ram in her DNA.”
“But why does that make her your opposite?” Prem asked. “You’re beautiful, strong, and driven, too.”
Layla laughed and pulled her braid over her shoulder. “Yeah right.”
“You are,” Prem told her, turning serious.
“Your favorite color is green.”
“Blue. You’re changing the subject.”
“Your favorite movie is… Forrest Gump? ”
“Never seen it. My favorite movie’s Dhoom.”
She gasped audibly. “You’ve never seen Forrest Gump? How is that even possible? I’m pretty sure it’s been playing continually on Paramount since 1997.”
“We weren’t allowed to watch much television growing up,” Prem told her.
“And what’s Dhoom?”
Prem swallowed a bite of veggie roll before answering. “ Dhoom 1, ” to be exact. “It’s a Bollywood film. Picture Fast and the Furious with a lot more dancing and singing. One of the main characters is named Jai, so my brother loved it, obviously. We’ve probably watched it a thousand times.” Prem chuckled, remembering how Jai would sneak into his room after their parents went to bed, force him to stop doing his homework, and play the movie on his laptop. It’s probably why Prem could still sing the soundtrack word for word.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Since your favorite color is pink, you grew up in a pink bedroom. Your bed had one of those frilly canopy thingies on it, and it was filled with stuffed animals.”
“Ha! Couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Layla shot back. “I shared a room with my sister and mother when we could afford an apartment. I had one stuffed animal, a little brown bunny with a missing eye. His name was Doug.”
“Wait.” Prem set down his chopsticks. The last bite of veggie roll seemed to have clumped in his throat. He grabbed his water glass and took a heavy sip. “ When you could afford an apartment.”
Layla gave him a wan smile. “My mom was a single parent. Money was always tight. For a time we, uh, lived in a car.”
A car. She’d lived in a car.
“It wasn’t that bad, really,” Layla said quickly in response to whatever look of horror occupied his face. “Well, Alanna hated it, but we always had enough to get by. When the electrical company turned off the lights, we’d build a blanket fort and use flashlights to tell stories and secrets. My mom always made it fun.”
Layla smiled as she picked up a veggie roll “And even when we didn’t have fancy clothes or nice vacations or gymnastic lessons, we always had love and each other…and Doug. That was all we really needed.”
Prem shook his head. “Only you could find the silver lining of homelessness.”
“We were never homeless,” Layla insisted, her face turning serious. “Our home was our family.”
Suddenly, Prem’s throat felt tight. He’d grown up with everything. His own bedroom. Private school. Violin lessons. Everything except for laughter, freedom, and unconditional love. Insane as it sounded, a part of him pined for what Layla had.
“Your favorite band is…” Layla tilted her head, smirked. “Nickelback.”
Prem slapped a hand over his chest. “You wound me, my lady.”
She was changing the subject. Teasing him to lighten the mood, but Nickelback? That burned.
Two could play at that game.
He grabbed the last veggie roll with his chopsticks and pointed it at her. “Your favorite musician is Justin Bieber. You go to every one of his concerts. You scream and cry and throw your frilly pink underwear on the stage.”
She giggled and snorted. “I actually…actually had a huge crush on Justin Bieber growing up. I put up a poster of him in our bedroom, but Alanna drew a penis on his face. I cried.”
“She did the right thing,” Prem said with approval. “I think I like Alanna.”
Layla reached over and snagged the veggie roll from his chopsticks. She crunched down on it.
“Your favorite animal is a spider monkey.”
“I don’t play favorites. Not with animals,” Prem answered.
“But you do. It’s horses. Don’t even lie,” she taunted him.
“No favorites. Your favorite animal is a tarantula.”
“Your greatest fear is…” her eyes brightened. “Quicksand.”
Prem shivered.
“Whenever you go to the beach, you wear a unicorn inner tube just in case.” Layla snorted with laughter.
“Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” Prem asked.
She wheezed out giggles as her face turned red. “And you wear matching unicorn arm floaties…” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Just to be extra safe.”
“You are not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Prem informed her.
“I’m…I’m…” she huffed, “Freakin’ hilarious!”
“Hey, what are you doing to my future girlfriend?” Hayden said as she approached and slid their plates on the table.
“Did you know your future girlfriend is a professional comedian?” Prem shot back. “Her special, Super Lame Comebacks, is gonna be on HBO next month.”
High, whinnying noises came out of Layla’s throat. Her face was shifting into a mottled red hue.
“But seriously, is she okay?” Hayden asked.
“Oh yes, perfectly okay,” Prem answered the waitress. “I’m a doctor. I know these things.”
That set Layla off again.
It was several minutes before she could breathe normally and a few more before they finally began to dig into their food. The rest of the night flowed fast and smooth, like a river going downhill.
They teased each other, making up increasingly wild guesses about the other’s personal life. Sometimes, Prem or Layla would simply agree with the guess. Other times, they’d set the record straight. Prem told Layla more about his violin playing, how he didn’t practice nearly as much as he would like, and about his work with the racehorse rehab facility.
In turn, he learned about her mother’s recent health challenges, her love of rom coms, and about her relationship with Dr. Goldman. On that last topic, Layla spoke wistfully for almost half an hour, long past the end of their dessert.
By the time the check arrived, Prem felt like he’d known the vet personally. He finally understood how truly loved Goldman had been. How he’d been a pillar of the town.
Prem pulled the tray with the bill to his side of the table.
Layla reached over, hooked her finger over the tray, and scooched it back to the middle of the table. Prem gently lifted her hand and tugged the tray in front of him.
“Let’s split the check,” Layla said.
“No,” Prem said. “I know how much you make. I’m covering it.”
She pouted. “Fine, but only because you gave me a pay cut.”
That stung.
Layla insisted on paying the tip and left two twenty-dollar bills for Hayden and for Gran Gran Vivian , as she wrote on the receipt.
On the drive home, the levity of the night began to fade for Prem, replaced by the heavy weight of a ghost.
“What are you thinking about?”
Layla’s voice startled him. How long had they been driving in silence?
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Tell me.”
Prem sighed as he slowed for a light.
“I can’t fill his shoes,” he said, finally. “Not even close.”
“You don’t have to.” Layla didn’t have to ask who he was talking about.
“You make him sound like a saint.”
Her hand found his. “Dr. Goldman wasn’t a saint. No one’s a saint.”
You are, Prem thought.
“But he was a good man. And you’re a good man, too.” She squeezed his hand. “Just in different ways.”
“I can see it sometimes,” Prem said. The darkness made him brave. “I know the customers are disappointed that I’m not him.”
Layla brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss across his knuckles. “Just be you,” she said. “That’s enough.”
They were silent the rest of the way. When he pulled into the driveway of her mother’s house, Prem hopped out of the driver’s side and opened Layla’s door. He knew some women didn’t appreciate these traditional gestures, but he couldn’t help himself. He already felt like Layla’s protector. Like her knight in a shining vet’s coat.
He held her hand as she stepped out of the SUV. She turned to face him, but neither spoke. A slight wind tugged at the hem of her dress and painted goosebumps on her arms. Prem wanted to pull her in close, keep her warm. He also wanted to kiss her mouth and never come up for air.
But she’d said she wanted to take things slow.
How slow?
Around them, crickets sang in harmony.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Layla said at last.
“I’m glad,” Prem said. “I want to take you out again. I want to date you.”
“I’d like that,” She looked up at him, her eyes shining.
“Well, um, good night, then.” He wanted to tear her clothes off. He wanted to devour her. He wanted to hear her cries ring out in the night. Instead, he bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Layla turned her face, sliding her lips across his. The kiss was soft at first. Then harder. She opened her mouth. He pushed his tongue inside. She moaned, and her fingers found their way into his hair.
Several long seconds later, she pressed her head into his neck and whispered, “I don’t want to take it slow.”