Chapter 5
It was a beautiful late-fall afternoon in Baskin as Manisha made her way to her past favourite coffee shop, now owned by Rohit Khanna’s father.
She had just enough time to slip into her trusty Smythe blazer and matching trousers, a once-favourite choice for casual Fridays at her old job.
She adjusted her collar as her black Chanel ballet flats glided along the sidewalk.
Despite her parents urging her to consider a possible “other side to the story,” Manisha was resolved to confine her conversation with Mr. Khanna to work, and to avoid any mention of his son’s infidelity.
The sun beamed brightly overhead, but the trees lining the street provided welcome shade as she walked.
As she slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushed against the small bag of seeds she had inexplicably decided to bring along.
She quickened her pace, feeling the weight of her mother’s unexpected suggestion about freezing her eggs and the bewildering discussion with Meena Auntie.
Tucked away in the picturesque upper valley of Baskin, Cali Time was a charming café that, for years, had been celebrated for its strong coffee and delectable California croissants and desserts.
Manisha had spent countless hours at the cozy little tables inside the café, sharing laughter and secrets with her high school girlfriends.
Their joyful giggles filled the air as they lost themselves in endless conversations about life, love, and dreams. As she approached the café’s door, her gaze stopped on a new sign above the awning.
The sign was in lively shades of pink, red, and gold, proudly displaying the words “Chai Time” in a stylish script.
She flung open the door and immediately found herself struck by how drastically it had transformed.
Gone were the faded, mismatched tables and chairs; in their place stood elegant wood furnishings adorned with intricate carvings inspired by South Asian traditions.
The walls were decorated with vibrant murals depicting bustling bazaars and serene landscapes from her homeland.
At the same time, fragrant spices wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of brewing coffee.
Mr. Khanna had truly captured the essence of South Asian culture in all the renovations.
“Manisha! Over here.” Manisha looked to the back of the café and saw Deena waving excitedly from a cozy armchair.
She grinned and made her way toward her cousin.
They were the dynamic duo of the Patel cousins, joined at the hip since they were teeny-weeny Indian babies.
With only a fourteen-month age difference between them, people frequently mistook them for twin sisters, especially when they were younger.
Even when Manisha went to law school and then moved to London, their closeness never wavered.
In fact, Manisha’s social circle had dwindled quite a bit while she was abroad, but Deena had remained a steadfast, long-distance confidante.
“How the heck did you beat me here?” Manisha hugged Deena, looking at her watch. “I thought you were across town!”
“Actually, I was next door on another date. Before you say a thing, yes, I am back on the apps.” Frustration filled Deena’s voice as she slumped back in her chair, releasing an exasperated sigh.
“What happened with this one?” Manisha asked as she took the armchair across from her cousin.
“Don’t ask,” Deena groaned. “It was like the worst first date ever. He was really attractive, but he has a habit of spitting when he talks! I mean, saliva started gathering at his bottom lip, and before I knew it, it ended up in my coffee.”
“Ew.”
“It’s like he was foaming at the mouth, like, like…”
“Like a zombie!” Manisha playfully lunged at Deena, imitating a lifeless creature’s stiff, shuffling movements from one of their favourite horror movies. Deena let out a loud shriek, and the cousins tumbled back into their chairs, bursting into giggles.
“Oh my god, remember that guy I dated who was just awful in bed. I told him that having sex with him felt like sleeping next to a dead corpse,” Deena said, catching her breath.
“But corpses are…” Manisha began.
“Dead to begin with,” Deena interjected, smirking. “That’s exactly what he said! You both completely missed my point!” she exclaimed, half laughing.
“Well, since you’re no longer with him, let’s agree to leave the dead in their graves,” Manisha added as she leaned in closer to appreciate the intricate red and pink flowers that flourished against the black fabric of Deena’s sleeveless top. “I am absolutely loving this top on you!”
“It’s an LV bodysuit. I just bought it for that date!”
Manisha admired Deena’s style. With her luscious, bouncy curls and effortlessly natural no-makeup look, her cousin radiated beauty and grace.
It wasn’t just Manisha who noticed; Deena’s dating apps were flooded with matches.
But Deena wasn’t looking for casual flings.
Finding a husband was her priority, one that aligned with her parents’ wishes.
She was a dutiful daughter; if her family wanted her to marry, she intended to do so.
For now, though, she relished the luxurious lifestyle that her father’s oil company provided.
“I have to say, that blazer looks amazing on you, but why are you all dressed up like you’re heading to some big meeting?” Deena asked.
“I actually have a meeting with Mr. Kh—” Manisha began, but her cousin interrupted.
“Ugh. That guy messaged me! He asked if I was feeling any better. I kind of told him I had a migraine and dipped.”
Manisha’s eyes bulged in shock. “Deena!”
“What? He said it was ‘cool’! As it turns out, he had another date lined up in an hour, so it worked out perfectly for both of us.” She rolled her eyes
“Wow. It’s non-stop, isn’t it? I don’t get how guys manage it.”
“Oh, please, it’s not just the guys. We women are in on the game, too. In the world of dating apps, you’ve got to have a backup plan or two lined up—one guy at a time just won’t cut it anymore. It’s one date after the other.”
“Seriously? Who has the time? It’s like having a second job!” Manisha inwardly winced as the word “second” left her lips.
“Ha! A job that doesn’t even come with benefits!” Deena chuckled, tossing her dark curls dramatically over her shoulder, the gold buttons on her bodysuit glimmering as they highlighted her elegant neck.
“Anyways, I could really use a break from all the swiping, at least until I catch up with you,” Deena went on.
“Sanj’s wedding didn’t really give us that much one-on-one time!
” She reached for her classic black Gucci flap purse to drop her phone inside, but Manisha snatched it away before she could.
“Hold on, let me take a look at what you’re working with.
” She grabbed Deena’s phone and began swiping through her potential matches.
It was a parade of strategically posed shirtless bathroom selfies, gym shots showcasing perfectly sculpted abs, and an abundance of those trendy, casually tousled morning looks.
Manisha grimaced. “This is just awful.” She returned the phone to her cousin, cringing as if it were contaminated with a virtual dating plague.
Deena tossed it into her bag. “I told you so! So, how are you? Have you recovered from Sanj’s wedding? We really danced and drank a ton, didn’t we?” She chattered away at her usual rapid pace.
“We did, and it was fun! I hoped for some downtime post-wedding activities, but you know my mom. I don’t think she even understands what rest and relaxation are.”
“Every Indian mom is like that. So, how long are you staying? I need to know how much trouble we can get into,” Deena said mischievously.
Manisha hesitated for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. It might be a bit longer than anyone realizes. So much has happened since Oliver and I ended things.” She inhaled deeply, preparing to finally share the whirlwind of her life with someone.
“I couldn’t stand him,” Deena said, cutting Manisha off. “But what else is going on? Is it work-related?” Her expression was tense, concern etched on her features. “Are they okay with you taking so much time off to be here? You just became a senior partner, right?”
“I did, but—”
Deena interjected again. “You lawyers really have it made, don’t you?
You can just take time off whenever you feel like it—like on some fancy sabbatical or whatever those corporate girlies call it.
You get to eat, pray, and love your way into the arms of some charming European guy ready to rescue you from your ‘damsel in distress’ life.
” She chuckled. “Honestly, if you ask me, it’s time to get back on the Indian man train and forget about those Olivers of the world—if you catch my drift. ”
“I never really got off that train, did I?” Manisha said with a hint of nostalgia.
“Manisha, Oliver was white!” Deena said, enunciating every word.
“I know!” Manisha shrugged, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Let’s just say I took a little detour.”
“I’d call it a derailment,” Deena laughed, her eyes sparkling.
Manisha felt genuine happiness course through her. Sure, she’d seen Deena at Sanj’s wedding, but this one-on-one time was something she had been craving. She’d missed her cousin dearly, and the sound of their joined laughter made the world seem a little less daunting.
“You were always more of an Indian hunk kind of gal anyway. But are you ready to meet that hunk now?” Deena mused.
“That depends on who this hunk is and what meeting him entails,” Manisha replied, a shiver running down her spine as she remembered the profiles Deena had shown her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through the dating app process,” Deena assured her.
“No dating apps. Absolutely no pictures or videos,” Manisha said firmly.
Deena raised an eyebrow, clearly perplexed. “Okay…”