We sat for a few more minutes, talking about various things, mostly about Ajit's wanting to get to know Amrita. “Is she open to seeing someone or is she one of those med-school nerds with her nose buried in her anatomy book?” Ajit asked me.
“She's very studious, but I think she's okay with meeting the right guy. She claims she's too busy to think about it, but I have a feeling,” I said with a sly smile, “she might be willing to see
you.
”
“Yeah?” Ajit's smile was equally wily. “You want to share her e-mail address with me?”
“After I talk to her about you. She's probably going to pretend disinterest and resist the idea. Give me a few days to work on her.”
“Okay. Meanwhile, get that resume in shape.”
“Yes, sir.” I rose to my feet. “Time to get back to the party. You don't want to disappoint all those girls lining up to be your dance partners.”
He got off the couch and reached for my hand. “Tomorrow I'm going to be so sore, I'll curse your holiday party. But tonight,” he said, doing a quick jiggle with his hips, “I'm going to do some more dancing. Come on, baby,” he said playfully and put his arm around my shoulder.
I had a feeling that third glass of wine was giving him a healthy buzz. But I had to admit he was a fun escort. He'd be good for my oh-so-serious cousin. In fact, he'd be perfect. Amrita could use some loosening up. Her life revolved around school and work and exams.
Laughing at Ajit's theatrics, I let him escort me back to the banquet room.
Halfway into the room, we came face-to-face with Prajay.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes shifting from my face to Ajit's. He'd caught us laughing. Prajay's greeting to us was friendly enough, but his wide mouth was set in a grim line. Those heavy eyebrows were sitting rather low over the sockets.
I got the distinct feeling he didn't approve of Ajit's arm hooked around me.
Ajit patted my arm. “Let me tell you, Prajay. This lady is exceptionally bright. You have a gem working for you.”
“I'm aware of that.”
“I'm trying to talk her into going to work for a friend of mine,” added Ajit. “He has a job opening that has her name written on it.”
Prajay's scowl intensified. “Is that right?” Without another word he turned on his heel and headed for the bar.
My mouth was wide open as I faced Ajit. “Why'd you do that?”
“Do what?”
“It was in bad taste to mention the LA job to Prajay.” I tossed him an indignant look, but secretly I had been pleased to note the dark expression on Prajay's face.
Ajit merely shrugged. “Did you see his reaction? For that alone you should pay me a fee.”
Chapter 31
O
n Sunday afternoon, I settled in front of my computer to update my resume. Perhaps Ajit's crazy plan could work. I was willing to try anything. Within reason. In an hour I had the resume polished and e-mailed to Ajit, with a brief note to thank him for being such an entertaining date at the previous night's party.
And I meant it. Too bad we weren't meant for each other.
In my message I didn't mention anything about his getting together with Amrita, although I knew he was anxious. It was in some ways a bit humiliating that my date had become interested in my cousin; nonetheless it was a balm for my conscience.
Besides, in our culture it often worked that way: If a boy was deemed unsuitable for one girl or if things didn't work out as expected, he could always be considered for another girl in the familyâa sister or cousinâor even a neighbor.
But first I had to discuss it with my mother. Naturally she'd be disappointed that it hadn't worked out between Ajit and me. I had seen that optimistic light in her eyes last evening. Better to nip her dreams in the bud, I reflected, and made my way downstairs.
I found Mom reading a mystery novel in the family room. Dressed in sweats and wool socks, she looked cozy and rapt. Her feet were tucked under her. She worked long and erratic hours and rarely found time for pleasure reading. I felt a little guilty about disturbing her hard-earned moment of leisure.
“You have a minute?” I asked her.
She looked up absently. Her mind was probably still immersed in the mystery.
“I need to talk to you,” I said.
“Sure.” She peered at me suspiciously before peeling off her reading glasses. “What's up?”
Taking a seat beside her, I cleared my throat. “Mom, I noticed the look on your face last evening, when Ajit and I left for the party.”
“What look?” She wasn't a good actress.
“The look you get when you see me going out with an eligible Konkani guy.” I gave her a second to ponder that. “The one that says you want to start making wedding plans?”
“I'm a mother,” she retorted. “I'm allowed to dream a little about my children's futures.”
“Well, you can forget the dream.”
She gave a resigned sigh. “I suppose it has to do with what you call chemistry?”
“I guess.”
“I should have known it was too good to be true.”
“But it's not a lost cause.” I patted her hand.
“What does
that
mean?”
“He liked Amrita a lot.”
Her frown returned. “He comes to take you out on a date and hits on your cousin? What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Mom, it's not like he claimed to be in love with me or anything. It was our third date, and nothing was happening between us. We went out on a friendly date.”
“Friendly date,” Mom sniffed. “Right.”
It was my turn to sigh. “It just didn't work for us, okay?”
“So if it never works with any guy, does that mean you'll remain single all your life?”
I laughed at her query, although deep down the possibility bothered me. A solitary spinster's life would very likely be my lot as long as I was in love with Prajay. “It's not a sin to be single, you know.”
“No, but it would be a shame to give up the chance to have a more fulfilling life,” she said, her eyes softening. “Marriage has so much to offer.”
“I know, Mom. I'm not against it. It's just that I haven't found anyone who I want to spend my whole life with. Not yet,” I added quickly. “But let's get back to Ajit and Amrita.”
“Amrita's still a student. She's not ready to meet eligible boys yet.”
“Wrong, Mom. Amrita's definitely ready. Did you notice how she blushed and went all goo-goo-eyed when she met him last evening?”
“She did?”
For a bright woman Mom was clueless about certain things. “Yep. I could sense the vibes between Ajit and her. I think you should talk to Shabari-pachi about him.”
Mom stared at her book cover for a minute. “What kind of a boy is he?”
“Nice. He's really smart and a lot of fun. And he has a great job. He even owns a single-family house and drives a pricey car,” I added for good measure. I was beginning to sound like a real yenta, a marriage-karma consultant.
“Hmm.” Mom looked sufficiently impressed.
“Too bad there's no spark between him and me. But if Amrita and he hit it off, it'll be nice, don't you think?”
“But he's so much older than Amrita.”
In my enthusiasm I hadn't thought about age. After all, I was in love with an older guy myself. “You think seven years is too big a gap?”
“That's not unusual for our generation. Madhuri's husband is ten years older than she.” Shifting to a more comfortable position, Mom put her glasses back on. “I'll talk to Shabari about it. It's up to Amrita and her.”
“Do it soon, then. Despite the age difference I have a hunch he and Amrita are well suited.”
My mother pretended to get back to her book, but I could tell she was giving serious thought to what I'd said. I had a feeling she'd be picking up the phone any time now. An eligible bachelor was too precious a commodity to be allowed to go to waste.
I returned to my room. Now I'd sit back and let Mom take care of the rest. Poor Ajit was probably sitting on pins and needles, dreaming about getting together with my pretty cousin.
Meanwhile I'd have to wait and see if my resume would at least earn me an interview.
Â
Ajit surprised me midmorning on Monday, when he called me on my cell phone. “Get prepared for an interview next week,” he said on a cheerful note.
“You're not kidding, right?” I asked. I had had no idea Ajit was going to move at lightning speed. I'd been thinking in terms of weeks, not hours.
“I e-mailed your resume to Brian and talked to him yesterday. He's interested. He wants to know if you can fly out to LA for an interview sometime next week.”
“That soon?” A frisson of unease ran up and down my arms. This crazy plan was moving too fast.
“He wants to hire someone soon. His employee who left to have a baby doesn't plan to return to work.”
“So hers was a sudden decision?” What kind of an employer was this Brian, anyway?
“Apparently she's decided she wants to be a full-time mom for a while. Brian and his manager are interviewing some applicants next week and want to get you in during the same week.”
“Can I ... get back to you on this?”
“Getting cold feet?”
“A little,” I admitted. “Look, I'm awfully grateful for all you're doing ... but ...”
I heard his groan clearly. “But you're in love with the big guy and don't want to give up vying for his attention.”
“It's not that. He's never going to notice me ... unless I miraculously grow a foot taller overnight.”
“What is it, then?”
“I like my job, Ajit. Making drastic changes because of my personal feelings for someone seems kind of juvenile.”
With the high adrenaline level caused by the wine and dancing the night of the party, and seeing Prajay's cool attitude, it had seemed perfectly logical to look for another job, perhaps teach Prajay a lesson. But in the clear light of day, it was beginning to look a lot less attractive.
Cutting off the proverbial nose to spite my face wasn't a mature way of dealing with my problem.
Ajit went quiet for a beat. “It's up to you. Think about it, and let me know soon. I have to call Brian back. By the way, they'll pay for your travel.”
“Thanks, Ajit. I'm sorry if I sounded ungrateful. I didn't mean to.”
“No problem. We're helping each other.” The implied message was that I'd be helping him get ahead with his personal life.
“Um-hmm.” I thanked him again and ended the call. It wasn't the right time to tell him I'd already set the ball rolling on his behalf where Amrita was concerned. At this rate, my younger cousins would marry and become mothers twice over long before I could even dream of a bridal shower.
Â
“Why California?” My father looked thoroughly puzzled. “Are you losing your job again?”
I fidgeted with the fringe on the chenille throw covering my legs. I'd kept my news to myself through dinner, but I had introduced the topic of my job application and potential interview after we settled in the family room.
With their bellies full and a cozy fire burning in the fireplace, I figured it would be easier to discuss something that was sure to upset my parents. Besides, I couldn't keep it a secret any longer.
“No, Dad, it's not a layoff,” I assured him. This was more difficult to explain than I'd assumed. “I need a change.”
“Change? But you've had this job only a short time,” my mother reminded me. “I thought you liked your work at Rathnaya.”
I glanced at Mom, comfortably settled on the other end of the couch, under her own fleece cover. I wondered if she and Dad would ever understand my rationale. But then, what did they know about falling in love and having one's heart broken?
At the moment I envied my parents' uncomplicated relationship. For the umpteenth time in recent weeks I wished I could settle for their kind of arranged love, where two parts of a whole fitted together perfectly, despite being designed by two unrelated craftsmen who each had no idea what the other had envisioned and molded.
Mom and Dad argued at times, disagreed often, but I'd never seen a serious rift between them. They were always a twosome.
“I like my job a lot, but Ajit mentioned this job with his friend's company in LA, and I sort of ... thought it might be good to try something differentâmore exciting.”
Dad clucked in frustration. “What is it with you kids and excitement?” He picked up the remote and shut off the TV, probably because this was a more serious discussion than he'd previously thought. “You have a good job with a decent salary. And it's close to home.”
“I know all that, Dad. But my generation isn't like yours. Most people my age change jobs several times before they hit their forties.”
Mom, always the more insightful of my parents, had another tough question. “Does this have something to do with Ajit Baliga being interested in Amrita?” She paused to give me a wary look. “You're feeling rejected?”
I shook my head. “Nothing of the sort. Ajit and I have become friends. He thinks I have great promise in the advertising field, and the LA firm deals with movie producers and stars. He felt I might be interested in moving from a boring software company to Hollywood.” I switched glances between my frowning parents. “It's not the end of the world, you guys. It's a five-hour flight.”
“If it's glitz and glamour you're looking for, then New York City has plenty of both,” offered Mom. “Manhattan is the leader in the fashion and advertising industries.”
“True, but the job market in those industries is tight at the moment.”
“All the more reason to hang on to what you have in hand.” Dad got up from his recliner, shaking his head. “Looks like you have made up your mind. I suppose there's no point in voicing our opinions.”
“That's not true, Dad. I value your opinion and Mom's.”
Mom rose from her comfortable seat and folded the fleece coverlet. It was time for the twosome to go upstairs to their bedroom and discuss my announcement in private.
“Whenever you make up your mind about something, you won't budge, no matter what we say.” Mom placed the throw over the back of the couch. “If excitement is what you crave, then it's best that you go to this interview. I don't want you to say later that we stopped you from pursuing your ambitions.”
“Thanks. I may not even get the job. They're interviewing other candidates.”
I watched them walk away, heard them climb the stairs together, and wished my relationship with them was the kind in which I could honestly tell them that excitement had nothing to do with my decision. I wished I could tell them I was only trying to escape from heartbreak. But I couldn't.
They were my parents, not my friends.
They'd be sure to discuss me and my inane plans as they got ready for bed. Their rebellious daughter was at it againâdoing these wild, impulsive things that could only disappoint her and ruin her future. Mom might even blame Akka for my actions, since this was happening on the heels of her recent visit. Poor Akka.