Chapter 5
The restaurant is small, and the crowd even smaller. Only thirty or so people, and they all stand in little clusters, conversations in full swing. I do a quick scan, but I don’t recognize a single person. Not that I expected to, really. The only person I’ll know here is my father.
I snag a glass of wine off a table and take a walk around the room, sticking to the periphery.
I wonder who all my father invited to this.
There are people in suits and people in kilts.
Plenty of Scottish people, but some Indian folks too, though they must all be my father’s friends, because I don’t recognize any of them as family.
A great deal of the people here are likely colleagues of my father’s too, based on the snippets of medical talk I’m hearing.
I steer clear of those groups and continue until I overhear a few people laughing. One of them says how wonderful all of this is, how happy they are for Maggie.
I drain my glass and set it down.
I only know the name of my father’s fiancée from the wedding invitation.
From the light Google stalking I did, I discovered that she’s now retired, but used to work as a teacher.
Her Facebook profile was private, but I could see her main picture, a zoomed-in shot of her face.
A wide smile and full cheeks, curling gray hair that stopped at her ears.
My general impression of her was that she seemed kind, but I had very little information on which to base that.
The group to my right shifts slightly, and before I know it, I find myself enveloped, engaging in small talk.
“We’re with the bride’s side,” a middle-aged white man says, his accent heavy.
“Groom’s,” I say, pointing to myself. I don’t elaborate further, carefully asking question after question, finding out how each person in the group knows Maggie, encouraging further discussion about her so I don’t have to offer up anything of my own.
They all speak about her with such fondness.
“She’s been through so much, you know?” one woman says, her eyes glistening. “It’s so nice to see her finally have something good in her life.”
I nod as if I have any idea what she’s talking about, as if I agree with her definition of my father as “something good.”
A tray of drinks is passed around, along with some kind of meat skewered on toothpicks, and I grab one of each, glad to have something to do with my hands.
Everyone in this circle knows Maggie well, but a few also know my father. One of Maggie’s cousins shares a story about the first time she met him, how he came over for Christmas and knocked over a candle, almost setting the tablecloth aflame.
The group laughs, and I force a smile, but my skin prickles.
I shouldn’t be here.
The people in this room, they have genuine affection, genuine love for Maggie and my father. They all share something I’m not a part of. I look around, seeing one smiling face after another.
I don’t belong.
I excuse myself, mumbling something about using the restroom, and step away from the group.
Coming here was a mistake. I thought I’d be able to face my father, but I don’t know if I can pretend to be happy the way these people so clearly are. I don’t know if I can fake it, if I can hide how I feel.
I’ll just leave. I can still go to the wedding; I’ll get there a little late and slip in the back. I don’t have to be here tonight. I’ll go back to the hotel and—
I halt mid-step, hearing a familiar voice before I see him.
He’s laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkled behind his wire-frame glasses. He’s traded his elbow-patched cardigan for a dark-blue suit, and he’s clean-shaven, the scruff that I felt this morning against my cheek completely gone.
I don’t move, unsure whether to approach him or leave, but then his gaze meets mine.
He blinks, surprise lighting his face. His mouth parts for a second before breaking into a wide smile.
For the first time this evening, the muscles in my shoulders relax.
I walk toward him, and he meets me halfway.
“Hi,” he says, his expression and tone conveying both puzzlement and delight.
“Hi,” I respond, my mind whirring. Is he one of my father’s medical colleagues? Or is the desi community in Aberdeen truly so small that everyone knows each other? It seems hard to believe. “What are you doing here?”
The strap of my purse slides off my shoulder, but before I can adjust it, his hand is there. He lifts it back into place, his fingers sliding over the bare skin of my upper arm.
My nerves jump to life, heat rushing through my body, memories of last night flashing in my mind.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he says. His hand trails down until he’s cupping my elbow, and he leads us to a quieter corner, giving us just the tiniest bit of privacy. He leans against the wall and watches me, a disbelieving grin on his face. “I thought you said you hated weddings.”
I almost laugh. If he only knew how much I hate this one in particular.
“I do,” I say, “but I need to be at this one.” I shake my head. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, though.”
Hesitation flickers in his eyes. “And is it a good surprise or—”
“Good,” I say. “Definitely.”
His smile returns then. “I’m hoping the rules from last night don’t apply anymore, so…
” He stretches his hand out, and I take it for a firm handshake.
“Jacob Cherian,” he says. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again.
” He pauses, averting his gaze. “Truth be told, I’ve been kicking myself a bit all day, wishing I’d explained myself better, or figured out how to—I don’t know.
” He looks back at me, his expression plain and honest. “I don’t like the way that I left things.
And I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
” His thumb brushes the back of my hand. “About you.”
My pulse is loud, thrumming in my ears.
“I’m Neelu,” I say. “And I’ve been thinking about it too.”
His smile falters. “Neelu?” He says my name slowly, as if he’s sounding it out. “You’re…you’re Ajit’s daughter?”
“Yeah. How do you know him? Do you work with him or something?”
“I…no.” He looks slightly dazed. “I’ve known Maggie for a long time, and she introduced us. That’s how I know your dad.” He pauses. “And you.” His voice is strained as he says, “He’s mentioned you before.”
“Oh,” I reply, a little flustered.
We both go silent after that. Jacob’s looking at me differently, his earlier enthusiasm gone, his expression slightly wary, and it’s chilling. Goosebumps form on my upper arms, and I try to rub them away.
“Neelu?” a voice calls, and I turn to see my father.
I can’t remember the last time I saw him in person.
Maybe at my college graduation. It’s been nearly a decade, and his hair’s thinned out significantly since then.
I scan for signs of illness or exhaustion, but he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him.
His eyes are bright with excitement, and he’s holding the hand of an equally excited woman.
They hurry over to me, but Maggie breaks away from my father and reaches me first. Before I can brace myself, she’s wrapped me in a hug.
“I’m so happy you could make it,” she says, squeezing me tight then pulling away.
I offer a smile, pushing my unease down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to RSVP. I didn’t know I could come until it was too late, but—”
“Not a problem,” Maggie says. “We’re just glad you’re here.”
My dad nods, having caught up to our little group. “Right. Yes. Thank you for coming.”
He lifts his arms, an invitation for a hug, and I react accordingly, returning the gesture.
But the embrace is stiff, our limbs locked, allowing distance between our bodies.
Before we break away, one of his hands lifts, awkwardly patting me on the back, and bitter tears prick the corners of my eyes.
A parent’s wedding shouldn’t feel like this, I think.
My mother’s didn’t when she got remarried.
There was no awkwardness, no pretense. I felt nothing but joy, gathered with all of our friends and loved ones, celebrating my mother finally finding a partner who loved and cherished her. Who would actually stand by her.
I don’t know this man. I don’t know how to be happy for him.
My gaze meets Jacob’s, and behind his glasses I see something cool and sharp and entirely unfamiliar.
A lump forms in my throat.
My father steps back, taking Maggie’s hand in his, and the way his face transforms when he sees Jacob, the way he beams at him, digs at me.
“Neelu, let me introduce you to—”
Jacob raises a hand. “No need, Uncle. We just met.”
I almost flinch, his lie hitting me square in the chest. Almost like he’d lifted both hands and shoved me.
But what else could he have said? That we met last night? That we woke up together this morning?
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s shifted horribly. That something is wrong.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Jacob says, shaking my father’s hand. Then he leans toward Maggie, giving her a hug. He says something to her in a hushed tone, and she nods, her eyes glistening as she blinks quickly.
“It really was nice of you to come all this way,” my father says, and I turn to face him.
“Of course,” I say.
My father clears his throat. “We asked Jacob to give a toast tonight, since we’re not doing anything like that during the reception, but if we had known you were coming, we would have asked…” He fidgets with the cuff of his shirt. “Would you like to give a toast?”
“No, that’s fine,” I say quickly. “Thank you.” I have no idea what I would even say.
My eyes track back to Jacob and Maggie, the two of them still talking quietly.
“Jacob mentioned that he met you through Maggie?” I say, trying to prod for information. Trying to figure out why they would ask Jacob to give a toast.
“Yes, he was at the hospital a lot when I was getting treatments.”
My insides squeeze. “Oh, was he sick?”
“No, but Maggie’s son was. He and Jacob were really good friends.”
We’re quiet for a beat.
“You’re still doing okay, right?” I ask. “Health-wise, I mean?”