Ch. 46 – Prem
J ust before entering the familiar Indian restaurant, Prem paused and checked his phone again.
Yep. The parental dinner invite sat prominently on his calendar. Had to be an oversight, right? Maybe his father had simply forgotten to tell his assistant not to send out the monthly invite. After Prem’s spectacular storm out last month, his parents had surely canceled the regular get-together.
But the invite had appeared in his inbox last week as it always did. And so, here he was. Nervous. Unsure. Feeling like he was ten years old again and coming home from school with an A- on his spelling test.
Prem pushed open the door and glanced at the best table next to the window.
He froze.
Blinked.
Checked again.
Faintly wondered if he’d just suffered a massive stroke.
“Hmmm, I think Prem short-circuited,” said Jai.
Jai.
Prem’s older brother sat at the table smirking at him, black-painted fingernails, green-streaked hair, multi-pierced lip, and all.
“You’re late. Come on, sit down.” His amma waved Prem over as if everything were completely normal. As if Jai hadn’t been wordlessly banished from all family gatherings for close to 10 years now.
On stiff legs, Prem made his way to the table. Mechanically, he wrapped his arms around his mother’s tiny frame and gave his father the usual one-pump handshake. He sat, turned to Jai, and poked his older brother in the arm.
“Seriously, do I need to reboot you?” Jai asked.
“Just making sure you’re real,” Prem replied.
Their amma sighed. “Very well, let’s address this. Briefly.” She reached over and took her husband’s hand. “Your abba and I have done some thinking since our, um, conflict with Prem last month.”
This very well could have been the first time the word “um” had ever come out of Shikha Dhawan’s mouth.
She continued. “And we have reconsidered some of our past actions. We’ve determined that perhaps we’ve been too strict in our expectations for you both.”
Jai snorted. “You think?”
Their mother frowned. “Even if we don’t necessarily show it well, we love you both and want you to succeed.” She looked between her sons. “Whatever that may mean for you.”
Prem opened his mouth. Tried to speak. Shut his mouth. His brain needed time to catch up to this strange, slightly terrifying new universe he’d somehow fallen into.
The small woman tilted up her chin. “I believe that’s all that needs to be said on the subject.”
“Well done, Jaana, ” their father said and gave his wife a peck on the cheek.
Prem’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Jai nudged him with his foot, and Prem understood. It was their old standby from their teenage days. With an expertise honed by years of practice, Prem pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it under the table.
Jai: Have our parents been replaced by robots? Do we have to kill them?
Prem’s fingers moved. He sent the quickest of glances to his lap to ensure no misspelling as he typed a reply.
Prem: I like them better than our old parents. Let’s just keep the robots.
Jai: Deal.
Rajesh approached the table and offered a slight bow. “Welcome again. I see we have a new guest today.”
“My son,” their mother said. “He’s…a musician.”
“Ah.” Rajesh nodded to Jai. “We’re so pleased to have you.” He turned back to their mother. “Shall we begin with the usual order?”
Her mouth pinched. She shook her head. “We’ll each be ordering for ourselves this time.”
Prem felt slightly surprised that his jaw didn’t drop with an anvil-like sound onto the table. Shikha Dhawan, the iron-fisted ruler of their family, was allowing them to order their own food? And she’d acknowledged Jai’s existence… in public?
When it came to his turn to order, Prem glanced at the menu and read out the first vegetarian dish he saw. Jai ordered a vegan dish and a beer. Pushing his luck, Prem chimed in, requesting the same beer for himself. Their father spent nearly 10 minutes pursuing the menu intently before ordering his usual, but he noted waving a thick finger and smiling delightedly, “A seven spice level. No more of this five nonsense.”
Their mother pinched her lips so hard they nearly disappeared.
After the waiter left, she looked at her older son. “Jai, how are your…musical pursuits going?”
Jai gave his mother a wide smile. “Great! We played a few concerts in Balboa Park this past month. Got kicked out. Apparently, you need a permit or something, but some guy threw his business card in my guitar case, and now we’re going to be playing his wedding in two months.” He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward.
Their amma cleared her throat.
Jai removed his elbows. “We’ve got this gig at The Black Hole Pub next weekend,” he continued. “Not paid, but we get free drinks and get to put out a tip jar.”
“Well, son, it sounds like you’re keeping busy,” their abba commented. He leaned back in his chair, seeming more relaxed than Prem had seen him in some time.
“Prem’s watched my set,” Jai added.
Prem nodded. “Yup. He’s not half bad.”
“Oh stop, you’re embarrassing me.” Jai fanned himself.
The two brothers laughed, and Prem felt a new warmth filling him. The lack of Jai had been like an open wound his family had forcefully ignored for so many years that the pain of it had almost come to feel normal. Only now, with him sitting at the table could Prem recognize how deep the wound had been. How incomplete their family had felt.
The waiter returned with glasses of water and the two beers. Prem and Jai clinked their glasses before taking long sips.
“How’s that girl of yours?” he asked his brother.
“Out on bail and in talks for a plea bargain that will include community service and a promise to never step foot on an oil drilling site again,” Jai answered.
“That’s good,” Prem said.
Jai shrugged. “Raven’s not sure she wants to take the deal. She really loves chaining herself to drilling equipment.”
“A girlfriend?” their mother asked hopefully. “What’s her last name?”
Jai rolled his eyes. “She’s Black, Amma.”
“Oh,” their mother said faintly. Then, “Oh,” again.
Thankfully, Jai didn’t mention his girlfriend’s bent toward bisexualism and socialism. Their mother’s poor heart could only take so much in one night.
“How about you?”
Prem turned at his father’s voice.
“How is your relationship going, Prem?” Abba asked.
Jai turned to him, eyebrows raised. “You’ve got a girl, now do you?” He mimicked their mother’s voice. “What’s her last name? Where’s her family from? How many PhDs does she have?”
“Jai!” their amma snapped even as she smiled faintly.
Prem tried to smile, too, but he couldn’t quite force his lips to arch. “Actually, it, uh, didn’t work out.” He grabbed his beer and took a heavy slug to wash away the sudden dryness in his throat.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry.” Jai grabbed his shoulder and studied him. “Oooooh, she got you good. You look like a mess.”
“It’s just been a long week at the clinic,” Prem answered. Wasn’t a total lie. Layla had called in sick the past two days, leaving him and Kate to struggle through the cyclone of work alone. If managing the practice with Layla had felt like bailing out a sinking ship with a teacup, then without her, they were bailing out the ship with thimbles. Kate was so stressed it was a miracle she hadn’t given her notice.
“You love long weeks at the clinic,” Jai pushed. “Nope, she stomped your heart. I can tell.”
Prem took another gulp of his beer and was surprised to find the glass empty when he set it down.
“It’s been…difficult,” he finally allowed.
“I’m sorry, Prem,” his amma said. “You seemed… happy during our last meal, at least at the beginning of it before the…conflict.”
Now, a small smile arched on Prem’s lips. He knew his mother dreamed of him dating a proper Indian girl from the right family, preferably with at least one doctorate on her wall. But was it possible that she also wanted him to be happy?
Maybe so.
“Well, let’s move on to better news,” his abba said. “Prem, we didn’t conclude our business at the last dinner. Your amma and I talked things over, and we’re willing to extend the length of your loan to lower your monthly payment. We agreed that if you want to prioritize internal growth over higher profitability, we’ll trust your instincts.”
“Assuming you have a revised business plan we can review,” his mother added.
Prem opened his mouth, meaning to say, I don’t need the new loan terms . His plan to bring on more staff and promote Deja to practice manager had gone up in flames the moment he’d stupidly fired her.
He shut his mouth as a minor epiphany dazzled in his brain like a firework. If none other than Dr. Shikha My-Word-Is-Divine-Law Dhawan could kinda, sorta apologize and make an effort to change her ways, couldn’t he?
Yes.
Yes, he absolutely could swallow his pride and set things right.
Prem smiled at his parents. “That would be wonderful. Thank you. I’ll have the revised business plan in your inbox by Monday.”
*
Later that night, Prem walked up the lighted pathway of an aging condo complex that stubbornly hung onto its charm. The units were small but well-cared-for, and the grounds showed hard work and clear pride from the residents. Prem hesitated as he read the unit numbers, and then knocked on a door featuring an artsy golden wreath.
Prem rocked on his heels. If he had any sense, he would wait until Monday to do this. But an insistent feeling beating in his chest told him he had to act now. The dinner with his parents and Jai had filled his soul with light and possibility. He didn’t want to give his natural cynicism any time to regain its natural perch.
He glanced down. The welcome mat said, “Did You Bring Pizza?”
The door swung open, and a skinny boy blinked up at him from behind bottle rim glasses.
“Hi,” Prem said. “You must be Deon.”
“What’s the password?” The young boy asked. An overweight dachshund waddled over to investigate.
“Password?” Prem echoed in confusion.
“I can’t talk to strangers unless they know the password,” the boy clarified.
“Is your mom home?” Prem asked.
“Who is it?” a voice called from inside the house.
“He doesn’t know the password,” the boy called over his shoulder. He picked up the dog, then swung the door closed.
Prem blinked, resisted the urge to slink back to his car, then raised his fist to knock again. Before his knuckles hit the wood, the door swung open. This time Deja faced him wearing a floral robe and a white silk bonnet over her hair.
Her expression shifted from surprise to suspicion. “What are you doing here? And without pizza, might I add.” She pointed to the doormat.
“I, uh, didn’t know about the pizza policy,” Prem admitted.
“Does he know the password?” a small voice asked behind Deja.
“Nope. This man is not password-worthy,” she answered without taking her eyes off Prem.
“Look, I made a huge mistake letting you go,” Prem said. “I was an ass. Your son was sick. Of course, you were right to take care of him. I need you back at the clinic.”
“Who says I want to come back?” Deja crossed her arms over her chest. “Who says I don’t have another job already?”
The words felt like a punch to the gallbladder. It’d been weeks. How could Prem have foolishly assumed she hadn’t found other work?
“You got another job?” he asked bleakly.
Deja’s gaze slid away from his, but her voice was proud as ever. “As a matter of fact, I am expecting an offer for a rather prestigious position as we speak.”
“Mom’s going to work for a doggie daycare!” Deon called behind her. “She said I can pet the dogs if they’re nice.”
“Oh, I see,” Prem answered. “Well, if your mind’s made up…”
“Wait.” A yip of desperation leaped into her voice before she caught herself. “Let’s just see what you have to offer. You know, so I can review all my options.”
“That’s prudent,” Prem agreed. “Well, like I said, I want to hire you back as a vet tech, and I want to train you as a practice manager on top of your other duties, as we discussed. And, when you’re ready, I still want to support you through veterinary school.” He let out a breath. “As a practice manager, you’ll obviously get a raise commensurate with your added responsibilities.”
“Obviously,” Deja echoed him. “And how much might that very well-deserved raise be?”
“A very generous 10%.”
“Make it 18%,” Deja countered.
Prem blanched. “Deja, my profit margin is almost non-existent as is.”
“And that profit margin will grow when you’ve got a good practice manager on hand to improve workflow and train a new vet tech,” Deja argued.
“Twelve percent,” Prem said with a sigh.
“Fifteen percent.” She tapped her chin. “And I want to come in at 9 AM, not 8 AM, so I can wait with Deon at the bus stop.”
“Nooooo,” the little voice whined behind her.
“Stop it, your friends love me,” Deja said behind her shoulder.
Prem did a few quick calculations in his head. He could swing it. Not by much, but with the lower monthly loan payments his parents had agreed to, he could make it work.
“Deal.” He held out his hand to Deja.
“Say that thing again,” she told him.
“Deal?”
She shook her head. “About you being an ass.”
“You can’t say that, Mom!” Deon exclaimed.
“You’re right, Honey.” Deja grinned at Prem. “But he’s allowed to. Just this once.”
Prem sighed. “Deja, I was an ass. Will you please come back to the clinic? We’re drowning without you.”
Deja took his hand in a firm shake. “See you on Monday, boss!”