Chapter 4 #2
Manisha remained captivated, unable to shift her gaze from Meena Auntie’s steady eyes.
Does she know what’s on my phone?
Does she know about Oliver?
Does she understand why I’m in Baskin?
“Parm has gifted us lucky lemons for Manisha,” her mother announced as she entered with two cups of steaming chai.
“Manisha doesn’t need luck or lemons,” Meena Auntie replied, blowing on her cup.
“See? I told you, Mom,” Manisha chimed in, feeling a twinge of satisfaction that she was right about the lemons and that she had also broken free from Meena Auntie’s gaze.
“She needs love.”
“I need what?” Manisha asked, swallowing hard. Not another piece of unsolicited advice about my love life.
“Love! She said love, Isha! Are you even listening?” her mother snapped back, disapproval evident in her tone as she plopped into the recliner across from Meena Auntie.
“She’s searching for many things, including love,” Meena Auntie continued.
“Va, va. Searching for love. Just like that show, The Bachelorette!”
“I don’t think that’s what she meant. And my life isn’t a reality show the last time I checked, Mom,” Manisha said, glancing around for any hidden cameras.
“Chup. You’re talking too much, and I can’t hear anything,” her mother scolded, cupping one ear. “Please continue, Meena. We’re all ears! We have so much time. All the time for you.”
Meena Auntie smiled warmly at Manisha and her mother.
“The Patel family holds the past in high esteem. Yet, I see a strong resistance to embracing compassion and affection for the lives you’ve led.
” She paused and zeroed in on Manisha. “We all must find a way to forgive our pasts.” Her voice took on a mysterious tone as if reciting an ancient family wisdom.
The weight of Meena Auntie’s words struck Manisha with an unexpected intensity.
Flashes of her grandmother, hazy and distant, entered her mind. When was the last time she saw her?
“Are you speaking about my gra—”
“Chup.” Her mother’s stern glance silenced Manisha, forcing her to swallow her words.
“This year,” Meena Auntie continued, “will bring new life…a great deal of new life. Everyone should be prepared to start anew.” She squeezed Manisha’s hand, which she was still holding.
“New life?” Manisha’s mother beamed at her. “A baby is new life, no?” She clapped her hands in delight.
“Mom, she’s talking about Sanj or Sammy,” Manisha cut in. “I think my hopes of having a baby might involve some ice.”
“What ice?” her mother asked, looking confused.
“I mean, I could really use some ice in my tea…like iced tea!” Manisha blurted out, suddenly rising from her seat and making a beeline for the kitchen, her thoughts racing.
The last thing she wanted was for Meena Auntie to find out that her mother had been urging her to consider freezing her eggs.
Then all of Baskin would know before the sun set.
“Don’t worry,” Meena Auntie reassured Manisha’s mom. “Something big is about to happen…”
“Oh my, maybe a big baby,” her mother exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Manisha was almost nine pounds when she was born.”
As Manisha filled a glass with water and gulped half of it down as if she hadn’t had a drink in ages, she re-entered the living room just in time to hear Meena Auntie say, “Big, big changes are ahead for everyone.”
Clearing her throat, Manisha risked her mother’s wrath and replied, “That’s a bit vague, Meena Auntie. I’ve read fortune cookies with more insight.”
Meena Auntie shook her head. “No fortune. I do not see any money.”
“Oh, just great,” Manisha muttered under her breath.
“Don’t worry, we have money, but we don’t have babies,” Manisha’s mother said cheerfully. “Now that is my kind of fortune, right, Isha?” she added.
“I must be going now,” Meena Auntie announced.
“Already? Please stay! Perhaps more chai, or Manisha can make you some of this iced tea?” her mother insisted.
“I must go do some…hocus-pocus. Isn’t that what the kids in Baskin call it, Manisha?” Meena Auntie added, winking at her.
Manisha nearly spat out her water. “Sorry, um, I’m not sure what you mean, Meena Auntie,” she stammered, struggling to regain her composure.
“Go help Meena Auntie to the car. Chal,” Manisha’s mother instructed, eyeing her with disdain.
As Manisha and Meena Auntie exited the house, Manisha cleared her throat before speaking up.
“Um, Meena Auntie, about what you mentioned earlier, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about the whole fortune cookie thing.
I was talking out of line.” She trailed off, her feet dragging as they moved toward the Jaguar.
“I know, my beta.” Meena Auntie stopped walking and turned to face Manisha. “Manisha, you have to believe in some hocus-pocus. Love is magic.” She pointed to Manisha’s heart. “You need to fill this with magic, and then you will receive everything you want.”
“Magic—” Manisha repeated the word instantly.
Meena Auntie gently tucked a strand of hair behind Manisha’s ear. “And, Manisha, beta, one last thing to remember: Don’t lose yourself in the pursuit of making others happy. Do what makes you happy for once. Being a lawyer didn’t make you happy, did it?”
Manisha was stunned. How did Meena Auntie know?
In a slow, deliberate manner, Meena Auntie placed her hands on Manisha’s stomach, the warmth and weight of her touch leaving Manisha momentarily paralyzed as if time itself had come to a standstill.
Just then, a sudden gust of wind swept through the cul-de-sac, swirling around the Patel driveway and rustling the freshly pruned shrubs that bordered it.
The leaves trembled—or was that just Manisha’s body? She felt the chill in her sweatsuit.
Manisha struggled to find her words, her mind racing with a chaotic blend of questions and emotions. “I, uh, Meena Auntie? What are you saying? I—I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Her voice wavered.
“You’re a star, Manisha—a bright, magical star,” Meena Auntie proclaimed, her tone soothing yet mystical.
Manisha furrowed her brow, bewilderment etched on her face.
There was something ethereal about how Meena Auntie spoke, as if she had a direct line to the hidden truths of Manisha’s life that no one in her family was privy to.
Then, as though the universe had conspired to make the moment even more poignant, Meena Auntie suddenly embraced Manisha, her warm presence wrapping around her like a soft, much-needed weighted blanket.
“Here,” she whispered, sweeping her hand with deliberate grace into Manisha’s jacket pocket. “My shining star.”
Meena Auntie slipped into her car, leaving behind only the subtle scent of jasmine perfume as she backed out of the Patel driveway.
Manisha stood still, wondering where this mysterious woman might go next and whether she would craft yet another enthralling story at the homes of the Mangat, Shivani, or Lalli families.
Did she make her rounds from house to house, diligently working through an invisible checklist of Indian families with single children while spreading her unique brand of magic and mystery?
Manisha found herself lost in thought, contemplating just how much chai Meena Auntie could possibly consume in a single day.
She lingered alone in the driveway, feeling both enchanted and confused.
Eventually, Manisha’s focus shifted to the bulging pocket of her sweater, which now felt oddly heavy.
She reached inside and pulled out a small tulle bag, its delicate fabric shimmering under the afternoon sun.
Within it lay a scattering of exquisite white beads, each one iridescent and luminous, glimmering like miniature stars captured.
“My shining star.” Meena Auntie’s voice echoed in Manisha’s head.
As she peered into the bag, the golden sunlight drenched the beads in warmth, casting tiny rainbows that danced along in a mesmerizing display. Nestled at the bottom, almost shyly, was a slip of paper, its edges softened by time.
“Consume these and embrace a fresh and magical beginning,” she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper, each word resonating deep within her heart.
A new life in Baskin? Was that what it meant?
She gazed at the pouch, her mind spinning with possibilities as she pondered whether its contents held the secret to what was in store for her in Baskin.
Could magic truly exist? Did Meena Auntie possess the power to craft extraordinary new beginnings, turning the mundane into the miraculous with just a touch?
Manisha felt the weight of these questions settle upon her as the beads felt heavy in her hands.
Suddenly, Manisha heard her father’s voice behind her. “Has she left?” She turned to see him peeking out from the garage.
“Dad! Um, yeah…Meena Auntie had to go.”
He stepped out, standing at the top of the driveway. “Good. There’s just something odd about that woman. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Just…something.”
Manisha tightened her grip on the beads. “Dad, do you think she’s, I don’t know, magical or something?”
“Magical? I can’t say I buy into that ‘Magical Meena’ business.” He chuckled. “But your mom swears she has a sixth sense. I’m just not convinced about all that. What I am convinced of is that I lose a lot of money to her every month with these visits,” he said with some annoyance.
“You’re right, Dad. How could one auntie really have the power to change your life?”
Or mine.
“Beta, the only one who can change your own destiny and life is you,” Manisha’s father said, his words lingering like the comforting embrace of Meena Auntie’s hug from just a few moments ago.
Her father stepped toward her. “Oh, I need to ask you a favour. While you and your mom were out, your uncle Jas Khanna came by. You know, his son is friends with Sammy.” Manisha narrowed her eyes, but her dad didn’t notice.
“He wants you to look at some legal paperwork. Only if you have the time, of course; he purchased that old coffee shop downtown. Cali Time. It’s called Chai Time now. ”
“Cali Time! Seriously?” Manisha exclaimed, disbelief etched across her face.
She had been frequenting that coffee shop since her high school days.
“Ugh, Dad. I really don’t want to deal with anything related to the Khannas.
” Once again, she was haunted by the infuriating memory of Rohit’s arrogant face.
“Manisha, beta,” her dad urged, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“It’s just a quick visit. It’s about some extra permits for renovations…
” He extended a large envelope toward her.
“Uncle Jas emphasized how crucial these are and hopes you can swing by the coffee shop today. You know how much his friendship means to our family, to me.”
“Yes, Dad, I do. I know what he did for us and how much he means to you. I know that part. The part I don’t really care for is where his son Rohit took advantage of the Khanna name and treated every girl in Baskin like his personal prize,” Manisha said.
“Manisha,” her father said sternly, “we don’t know the whole story, and—”
“And there are always two sides to the story,” Manisha interrupted. “Yes, Dad, I know. Mom keeps saying that. Okay, I’ll look at the papers.”
“That’s my good beta.” Her father beamed proudly at her, gently touching her shoulder.
She took the envelope, and a whisper of unease crept up her neck. Despite Meena Auntie’s comforting words about what lay ahead, Manisha grappled with the guilt of keeping a secret from her parents. “I hope I always make you proud, Dad,” she murmured. “I never want to disappoint you.”
“Disappoint me? Never! Not once! Besides, you’re my favourite daughter,” her father said, wrapping an arm around Manisha.
“Your only daughter,” she replied with a light laugh. It felt nice to laugh, even if, beneath the surface, she wasn’t entirely thrilled about the reason for her return to town—or why she was seeking refuge at her parents’ house in Baskin.
“Alright, I’m heading inside,” her father declared. “It’s getting a bit chilly out here all of a sudden.”
Manisha glanced back at the driveway, which had just witnessed the abrupt shift in the weather as Meena Auntie departed.
“So, you’ll go to the coffee shop today?” he asked.
“I’ll take a look now and go right over, Dad.”
As he made his way back into the house, Manisha pulled out her phone and sent a text to her cousin, Deena. Sure, she planned to visit the coffee shop linked to Rohit Khanna for her father’s sake, but she certainly wasn’t going to go alone.