32. Sona
SONA
“ W hen are you coming, my child?” Appa’s voice sparkled when I called my parents on video.
I’d called to say I was having second thoughts about my visit to India, but their enthusiasm dissuaded me.
“We are thinking of having a small party, just the extended family and some friends,” Aai chirped.
I rolled my eyes. “I know what that means. Five hundred people and counting.”
“Come on, don’t exaggerate,” she rebuked gently. “We’re so proud of you. Getting that job is an accomplishment, and we want to celebrate you.”
“Yeah, and rub your daughter’s success in people’s faces,” I teased with a smile.
“Well, obviously!” Aai laughed, and Appa chuckled beside her. “Don’t you remember how they looked down on you when you decided to study liberal arts instead of engineering, medicine, or even the sciences?” She scoffed. “I’d rather have a child with a first-class Ph.D. in the liberal arts than be a second-rate engineer.”
“And that was a dig at Vimla’s son,” Appa furnished.
“Yes, I got that.” I laughed. “Alright, have your party, but make sure you are inviting people to celebrate with us, not to flaunt my success.”
“Oh, hush!” Mom waved her hand. “That’s just an added bonus.”
We laughed, and I changed my mind again. It seemed I was going to India after all.
I’d finally signed the offer letter from Houston, and the next step was…well, it was to get over Mihir, but that could take a lifetime.
First, I had to empty the apartment and move my things into a storage unit. When I shared this plan with Tara, she suggested using her place to store it all until I returned from India, and then we would drive together to Houston.
She flew to New York to help me pack. I gave away all my furniture to an organization that helped incoming international students. I donated textbooks I didn’t use anymore, but I still had multiple boxes of books and papers, which I mailed to Tara’s place. I also shipped boxes of clothes and wrapped some delicate artifacts collected over the years for Tara to carry back with her. For the last few days, I moved into a nearby hotel as I emptied out the apartment and prepared to leave for India. Finally, I changed my tickets to land in Dallas instead of New York.
A week later, I was in India with a plan to mend my broken heart by spending time in the cocoon of my parents’ love.
The last thing I expected, then, was for Mihir to show up at my door.
“Mihir!” I stood agape, worried I had finally snapped and was hallucinating. I tried to balance myself against the door. I had texted him to come find me if he needed help but I had not anticipated him appearing unannounced like this. At my parents’ home!
My stomach dropped at his sight. This was not the man I remembered. He was thinner and leaner, his eyes missing their usual spark. Though his hair and beard were still flawlessly groomed, the man standing before me appeared a stranger.
“Hi,” he said. When my mind steadied, I saw his bag and backpack.
“Can I come in?” he asked when I kept staring at him.
“Who is it, Sona?” Aai came to the door. When she saw the backpack in his hand, she asked in polite Hindi, “What are you selling? How did you get past the security guard? Salespeople aren’t allowed inside the building.”
“No, Aai,” I said, holding her hand as she turned to call the building security. “He’s a friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes, from America.”
Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, then turned to me. “Why is he still outside the door?”
“Come in, beta,” she addressed him.
I signaled Mihir to step inside, and he placed his bags near the wall by the door. Aai rushed inside the house.
“I need your help,” he said. “Your text. I thought?—”
“Remove your shoes.” I pointed to the shoe mat.
“Oh yes, sorry,” he said and slipped out of his sneakers.
I had never known Mihir to ask for help. He prided himself on self-sufficiency. He was the one people came to for help. He was a proud giver, after all. How much had that simple sentence cost him?
“Come in,” I said, leading him to the formal living room.
While Lata came out with water for him, Aai returned, having fixed her clothes.
“Aai, this is Mihir. Mihir, my mother, Medha Thomas.”
I was ambivalent about how to react to his presence. I found myself fighting off both anger and sympathy. In my eyes, he deserved neither right now.
With a short deferential bow, he said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thomas.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Aai smiled. “What will you have, beta? Tea or something cold?”
“He doesn’t drink tea,” I announced before I could check myself.
“Oh!” Aai looked back and forth between us while Mihir settled back on the sofa.
“I’m alright,” he said courteously. “Water is good.”
“Aai, can we have a few minutes alone, please?” I asked before their conversation went any further.
Aai looked at me, blinking her eyes, before breaking into a smile. “Yes, of course.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked when we were alone. “I thought you’d call, not come over. Who gave you my address? Tara?”
“No, Mom did.”
“Did you just arrive?” I asked, spotting fatigue on him.
“Yes,” he said and leaned back into the sofa. “Came straight from the airport.”
“You’ve lost weight,” I said, even though I hadn’t intended to.
He sighed. “I’m a stress runner.”
I wondered what kind of stress had caused him to lose that much weight in such a short time.
“I’m a stress eater,” I said, and on cue, we heard a sizzle from the kitchen, followed by the aroma of dal and spices.
“You look great,” he said with a small smile.
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but when I offered to help, I meant in the U.S. I really didn’t expect you to appear at my parents’ home like this,” I looked around to make sure Aai wasn’t within earshot.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called but?—”
“You blocked my number,” I cried with hurt.
With a guilt-ridden gaze, he replied, “Yes. I was in a dark place.”
“How dark?” I asked with a frown. What could have been so grave that he felt the need to cut everyone out of his life?
He gave a tired smile. “You want to know everything now ?”
I let out a sigh. “You’re right. You look tired. Let’s get you some food and rest first.”
“I’m not tired. I flew First Class.”
“The body doesn’t care about class , Mihir. It will be tired when it’s tired,” I snapped back.
But instead of taking offense at my dig, he leaned back in the seat and curved his lip into his trademark smirk. “You gave me so much flak for being rich, and look at you! You’re pretty fucking loaded yourself, aren’t you? Look at this lavish condo, in a fancy building, in the heart of a snobby area of Mumbai, no less.”
I knew he was teasing, but I had no intention of being sucked back into that fiery pit of charm again. I glared back. “Watch it.” I put my index finger up in warning. “First things first, no swearing in this house. If Aai hears you, she’ll kick you to the curb, and I’ll land right beside you. Second, yes, my parents are rich and I’ve never said anything to the contrary. And third, this isn’t a condo. It’s called a flat.”
He leaned back, with a gentle teasing grin trained at me.
“And most importantly”—I lowered my voice to a hush—“my parents know nothing about us or what happened. They don’t know who you are, and I would love to keep it that way.”
The crooked smile disappeared as he sat upright and nodded. “Of course, I won’t impose. I just need your help finding someone.”
I frowned. “You realize the population of the greater Mumbai region is upward of twenty million?”
That seemed to rekindle the old spark in him. “Don’t be a smartass,” he quipped. “I know who I’m looking for. And where I can find him.”
“Then why do you need me?”
“I don’t know the city. I need a guide and someone who can speak the language.”
“ The language? Are you serious? This is a metropolitan city. People speak almost every language here, including English. Which language are you talking about?”
“Okay, I meant Marathi and Hindi.”
“I thought you spoke Hindi?”
“I speak some Hindi.”
“No kidding!” I mocked. “ Haldi .”
He chuckled, and we froze. I flashed back to the warmth we once shared and the hot sex that followed—our easy camaraderie and the freedom of being totally and completely ourselves in that relationship.
Thankfully, the doorbell rang, and with a thumping heart, I scampered away to answer it. Appa entered with a smile. He’d been particularly upbeat since I’d arrived. He removed his footwear and put on his home slippers.
“Oh! I didn’t know we had a visitor,” he said when he spotted Mihir.
“Appa, this is Mihir Seth, my friend from Dallas. Actually, he’s Tara’s friend,” I said and gave Mihir the stink eye. He stood with a smile, and I introduced them. “Mihir, my father, Thomas Abraham.”
“Hello, sir.” Mihir offered a deferential handshake.
“Nice to meet you, young man. What brings you to India?” Appa asked, ready to settle down next to me on the couch.
“Appa, can we have a moment, please?” I said. “I’m sorry, it’s personal.”
“Oh.” Appa hesitated but maintained his dignified posture. “Of course, of course, carry on.”
“Thank you,” I said, and he turned to give me a smile.
“Okay, you were saying?” I said when we were alone again.
“I need to do this for me and my parents, and I need your help. That’s all I’m asking. It will only take a couple of days, maybe a week. Then I’ll be gone, like I was never here.”
“Yes, you seem to be good at that.”
He sat up, his expression somber. “I’m really sor?—”
“You’ve said that before. Sadly, it doesn’t erase the hurt you’ve caused.” I rubbed my hands over my face, partially to avoid looking at him. “Alright,” I said and gently opened my eyes. “I’ll help you, but I want you to know I’m doing this for your parents. You came here looking for a friend, and I will be one, for as long as you need me.”
He looked into my eyes with some unreadable emotion. I used to be good at deciphering his thoughts. That magic seemed to have disappeared now.
“Thank you,” he finally said.
I nodded. “You still need food and rest.” I stood up and went to Aai.
Upon returning to the living room, I asked, “Do you want to take a shower first or eat something?”
“I think it’s best if I left,” he said, and I frowned at his formality. “I checked online. There’s a Taj Hotel just a few blocks from here.”
“Aai’s preparing lunch,” I said, ignoring his suggestion. “You can use a guest room to shower and change. And we don’t measure distance in blocks here.”
I pulled the handle on his bag and rolled it behind me to the guest room. He hesitated before following me inside.
In the time it took for him to shower and change into fresh clothes, Lata and Aai prepared a quick lunch while I set the table. When he came out, my heart skipped a beat. I smelled him on him. His signature cologne. Not the tobacco one, the clean aquatic one. This was the scent I’d spent my nights missing and my days trying to forget.
I should’ve felt morose, angry even, but I found myself heavily turned on. I’d been hard up since he broke up with me. Now he was here, and I was dripping wet. I scurried away to the kitchen after seating him at the dining table and helped Lata bring out the food. But my mind kept dragging me toward his thick arms that held me tight as I orgasmed. The smile that mocked me into arousal, then into submission. The touch of his soft lips, the brush of his beard on every part of my body. My heart thudded so loudly, I was terrified Aai and Appa would hear it.
“Ah, how are you feeling, young man?” Appa emerged from his study and joined us at the table.
“Much better,” Mihir said, standing as Appa took a seat. “That warm shower did the trick.”
“That’s good. I’m glad it did not rain, or it would have been an annoying ride here.”
“It’s incredibly humid, though,” Mihir said while I worked diligently to avoid him. “It was a pleasure to enter the cool house.”
“Yes, it has been hot and humid. It will be pleasant once it rains, but that brings in a whole other set of problems,” Appa said as he served himself some rice. “Go ahead, son. What would you like? Sona, can you help him, please?”
“Yes,” I said and offered him roti, dal, stir-fried cabbage with peas, and rice. Aai walked in with cucumber salad and a bowl of fresh homemade dahi. I took it from her and put some in bowls for him, avoiding all eye contact.
“Thank you, Sona.” His deep, sexy voice made my insides quiver. The way he said my name still held a strong hint of possessiveness.
“How do you know Sona?” Appa asked Mihir when we had all settled around the table.
“He’s a friend of Tara and Sameer. We met at their wedding,” I jumped in before Mihir could respond. I had anticipated a version of this question and rehearsed that answer in my head several times over.
My parents studied me with suspect curiosity, and I pretended to be engrossed in my food.
“Yes.” Mihir cleared his throat. “We met at their wedding.”
“I hope the food is to your liking,” Aai said.
“It’s very good, Mrs. Thomas,” Mihir smiled at her. “I have to learn how to make this dal.”
“Oh, do you cook?” Aai sounded impressed, and I coughed to cover up my scoff.
“A little,” he said with a modest laugh.
“That’s very admirable!” Aai gushed. “Sona only learned to cook when she went abroad. Before that, she never needed to.”
I stayed quiet, hoping to melt into the background.
“What do you do, Mihir?” Appa asked.
When Mihir told him about his work, Appa’s eyes danced with glee. They worked in the same field. Finance and numbers gave them their high. They continued talking in their own language, which I swear sounded made-up.
“I think I’ll leave in a bit,” Mihir announced as we wrapped up lunch. “I saw a hotel I can check into.”
“What’s the rush?” Appa drawled in his accent. “You can leave in the evening. I’ll have the driver drop you. Or better yet, have dinner with us. Medha?” He looked at Aai.
“Yes, absolutely. What would you like for dinner? Sona, any suggestions?”
I was suddenly yanked out of my comfortable, nondescript space in the background and placed under the spotlight.
“Uh, what?”
“Any ideas for dinner?”
“I don’t know. Do you eat meat, Mihir?”
His eyes shone with amusement, but his face remained poised. “Yes, I eat meat,” he responded amicably.
“Chicken or mutton?” I asked him with a straight face.
“Anything is alright, but I don’t want to burden you anymore, Mrs. Thomas. I’ve bothered you enough.”
“It’s not a bother,” Aai said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “We enjoy having people over. And you’re Sona’s friend. You’re practically family.”
Mihir threw me a quick, supposedly discrete, look, but I knew my foxy parents were onto us.
“Mutton is good, Aai,” I said. “I can help.”
“That’s alright. Lata is here.” Then, turning to Mihir, she said, “Our cook makes excellent mutton.”
After lunch, Mihir tried staying up for a while, but his fatigue and jetlag finally caught up with the food in his belly. He almost fell asleep talking to me before he retreated to the guest room.
While he slept, it rained, and the air cooled. The sweet smell of the first rain was soon replaced with the melodious rhythm of drips and splashes. On the 18 th floor, a strong wind gushed in through a sliver of the open window. I cozied up with a book and a cup of cardamom tea at my favorite spot in the anterior family room.
“Hey.” That familiar voice still created strong ripples in my heart.
“Hey,” I said, pulling my feet off the armchair. “Did you get a good nap?”
He nodded. “What are you reading?”
I quickly hid the book behind me. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” He frowned. “What are you hiding?”
I was hiding a steamy romance novel. I’d always been a murder mystery buff, but since I’d had my heart broken, the happily-ever-after in these books gave me solace and some much-needed erotic imagery.
“It’s for research,” I said and sat upright. “Do you want coffee? I’m afraid we don’t have the American style, but Appa has a fancy espresso machine and several interesting pods,” I said with a smile.
“No, I’m good.” A beat of uncomfortable silence passed before he looked down at his hands. “Thank you for today, Sona.”
“I’m doing this for your parents,” I said and got off the chair with sass, forgetting what book I was hiding behind me. The moment I left the chair to walk away, it plopped to the seat, exposing my sweet secret.
“Really!” he said, reaching for the book like a ninja. “For research, huh?”
I gasped and yanked it back. We stood there for a moment, the space between us crackling with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Slowly, he reached out and touched my hand, the warmth of his caress sending a shiver down my spine. The vein in my neck throbbed as I remained caught between desire and the fear that one of my parents was going to walk in on us right now.
“What?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper. “No scathing retort? No cutting comeback? What happened to the Sona I knew?”
My eyes burned. “She died a slow death after you heartlessly dumped her over the phone.”