“That's enough,” chided my dad, visibly embarrassed. He was uncomfortable with talk about gynecological issues. Mom refrained from discussing her work in front of my dad for that very reason.
Maneel winked at me. All three of us siblings kind of enjoyed embarrassing our prudish dad sometimes. His face looked flushed and his eyebrows wiggled when that happened.
“Loosen up, Dad,” Maneel teased him. “You've been married to an obstetrician for thirty-four years.”
“Yeah, Dad,” I added, encouraged by Maneel's ribbing. “You and Mom had three kids togetherâa direct result of ... sex.”
I regretted my words the instant they left my mouth.
Mom blushed like I hadn't seen her do since she'd been presented with an unexpected award for outstanding medical service to the community some years ago. “You don't know what you're talking about.”
This time Dad tossed his magazine on the floor and sprang out of the recliner. Then he simply walked away, his face looking redder than ever. The poor man was such a sweet and decent soul, and yet I had stomped all over his delicate sensibilities.
Actually, it was admirable that he and Mom were still so devoted to each other, and so much in love in their old-fashioned, arranged-marriage way. Not only did I have deep respect for their relationship, but I hoped to have something like that in my own life someday. But whenever they reminded me of my poor choice in professions, I always ended up getting defensive, and in the process, striking back at them.
However, today I'd gone too far. Could it be the result of all those painkillers I'd been swallowing?
To add to my guilt, Mom picked up her letter and followed Dad out of the room. I should have apologized to both of them, but I couldn't. It would mean alluding to the embarrassing subject of their sex life again, and that was something nobody talked about. Not in our home.
Maneel waited till Mom's back disappeared, then glared at me. “Good job, Miss Public Relations.”
“You were teasing them, too.”
“Nothing like your remarks.”
I gave a contrite shrug. “Sorry. You know how it is when they attack my inferior choices in life.”
“No sense saying sorry to me. It's them you should apologize to.”
“But they went off on my job again ... and you know how mad I get when they do that.”
“I know how you feel. Didn't I get the same lectures about my career in finance until I made a few good bucks? Give them a couple more years and they'll accept it.”
I looked at the clock and swung my feet to the floor. The sharp pain in my right foot made me wince. “Damn!”
Maneel looked up. “You need help going upstairs?”
I shook my head and limped to the door. “I can do it. By Monday I'm back at work anyhow. Then I'm really on my own.”
Slowly I managed to make my way up the stairs, down the hall, toward my room. Everything was quiet in my parents' room, and the door was closed. A pang of guilt sliced through me. I had to think of some way to apologize.
As I hobbled to my room, my thoughts shifted to the coming week. Monday was going to be a challenge, with me traveling to get to work in Prajay's car. I wondered what kind of car he drove. Was he the sports car type, the stolid, four-door sedan type, or the big, indomitable SUV type?
I couldn't wait to find out.
Chapter 6
O
n Monday morning, in spite of my crass remark on Friday night, Mom and Dad were surprisingly solicitous of me. In fact, by early Sunday the whole episode seemed to have vanished.
The three of us had gone out to a nice brunch after Mom came home from delivering a set of twins. She had looked exhausted from being up most of the night with her patient, and Dad had suggested going out to eat.
Sunday evening, I'd tried to make it up to my parents by cooking my famous pasta with mushrooms and broccoli for dinner. By then I was able to hobble around and do quite a bit by myself. The pasta was a big hit along with my spicy broiled fish and tossed salad.
By seven o'clock, it seemed like I'd been completely forgiven. But then I always was, even after my worst mistakes. Mom and Dad didn't hold a grudge for long. They couldn't afford to, I suppose, after having raised three liberated and strong-willed children.
For work today, I put on a comfortable navy pantsuit. Then came the footwearâsocks and sneakers. The swelling around my ankle was minimal now, but it hurt if I tried to walk normally, so I held on to the banister and gingerly made my way downstairs to have the toast and juice Mom had promised to set out for me.
“You're sure you're fit to go back to work,
charda?
” Dad looked at me skeptically as he put his empty cup in the sink and shrugged into his jacket.
“I'm fine, Dad.” I chuckled at Mom's worried frown as she rinsed the cup and placed it in the dishwasher. “Mom, stop looking like I'm going to be drafted into the military and shipped off to war. I'll be sitting in an office chair all day, and I'm getting chauffeured by my boss.”
Mentioning the boss instantly wiped the frown off Mom's face. “So what is he like, this Prajay?”
“Nice enough,” I replied and took a casual sip of my juice.
“What does that mean? Is he friendly?” Mom made this impatient gesture with her hand. “Does he have a sense of humor? Is he smart?”
“Mom, I spoke all of four sentences to the man.” I put the glass down. “I was in agony at the time.”
“Of course you were.”
“Later I was under the influence of strong painkillers, so I can't really answer your questions.”
“Hmm. Guess you'll have a chance to get to know him better now.”
“Mom, you have to understand something: He's a big man, a giant, and I'm a little mouse. The twain shall never meet.”
Mom took off her apron and smoothed her pants and tunic top. “One never knows. Stranger things have happened.” Having made her final comment, she picked up her purse and walked out of the kitchen.
Dad shot me an amused look and patted my face. “Have a nice day,
charda,
and don't strain yourself.” He turned around as he reached the door. “Call me if you need a ride home after work.”
I finished my breakfast and settled down to wait for Prajay to show up. Once again the nervous fluttering started in my belly. Our first encounter had been the most dramatic kind. Our brief conversation had occurred after he'd placed me on the couch in his office, and that had been rather strange, too.
I had sent Prajay directions to our house by e-mail the previous day and hoped they were clear enough. I waited in the family room, my purse beside me, watching the clock ticking away. At 7:52 A.M., I began to wonder if Prajay had forgotten about me.
However, some ten minutes later I heard a car pull into the driveway and looked out the window with relief. And I couldn't help frowning. A red Toyota Camry with faded bumpers and a dent in the fender came to a stop outside our door.
A rich man like Prajay drove
that?
My idea of a little sports car or a sturdy Jeep, or even a Hummer, disappeared in that instant. But then he was an Indian, and we
desis
were a stingy bunch. He probably poured all his profits back into the company and enjoyed no luxuries.
Oh well. I lifted my purse and stood up, then let the right leg get used to the weight for a second before I proceeded to the foyer to open the door. The doorbell was already ringing.
Prajay Nayak stood on the porch. “Good morning,” he said very politely in that deep voice of his.
He looked more disturbing than ever. Without my high heels my eyes were on a level with his chest. He wore a dark gray suit with a cream shirt and a maroon tie with gray splashes. I raised my eyes all the way up to make contact with his.
Jack and the Beanstalk
came to mind. He wore dark glasses, so I couldn't see his eyes.
“Good morning,” I replied in a voice that sounded a little hoarse. Now that I was facing him, the flutter in my belly climbed up. “IâI hope the directions were okay?”
“Fine. Sorry, I'm running a little late, but I had to borrow a friend's car.”
“Oh.”
“So you'd be more comfortable,” he explained.
“You didn't have to do that.”
“Getting in and out of my car would be rough for you,” he said.
“That's very kind of you.” That explained the Toyota. The poor man had been forced to drive a beat-up old sedan because of me. So exactly what car did he normally drive?
Despite his dark glasses I could tell he was looking at my sneakers. “How's the ankle?”
“Not too bad, thank you,” I said in a more normal voice. Now that the ice was broken, I felt much more at ease.
“You're sure you're ready to return to work?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied cheerfully. I was more than ready to get back into my routine. “I just have to set the burglar alarm and lock the door.”
“You go ahead and set the alarm, and I'll get the door,” he offered and took the keys from me. He waited outside while I punched in the code, then stepped out. In one quick motion he locked the door and handed the keys back to me. “Want me to carry your purse?”
“Thanks, but I can manage.” A mental image of Prajay carrying a small navy handbag with a gold clasp made me smile inwardly.
He opened the car's passenger door, then gently helped me in before proceeding to his own side. I felt like an invalid and wondered if this was the way he treated his grandmother.
Prajay's legs seemed awkwardly folded at the knees as he settled himself behind the wheel and started to back out of the driveway. “This is a nice house, Meena,” he remarked.
“Thanks.” Now that I was so closely packed inside the confines of the car with him, my awkwardness returned. He seemed to fill the entire space. “I'm sorry you had to give up your car just for me,” I said after a long silence. We'd already reached the stop sign a block from our house.
“It's no problem. Besides, my friend was happy to make the exchange.” He grinned at me, the gesture both unexpected and attractive. “If I don't watch out he'll want to keep my Corvette indefinitely.”
“You have a Corvette?” I couldn't help smiling. His grin was infectious. “What color?”
“Nothing exciting. It's gray, more like silver.”
“Are you kidding? I love silver cars. Mine's a silver Mustang.” It would have been nice to go for a ride with this man in his Corvette. Instead he was stuck driving me in an old Toyota. But he had grinned, and it was still very pleasant sitting beside him and hearing his nice voice.
He merged into the heavy rush-hour traffic on Route 1. Seconds later we came to a stop at a red light. “Looks like we have something in common, then. We both like sporty silver cars.”
“Um-hmm.” I glanced at him, while his long fingers beat a tattoo on the steering wheel, waiting for the light to turn green. A little impatient, I decided, watching those fingers with their blunt tips and short nails. Wanting things to happen in a hurry wasn't a bad trait. It was the mark of a quick brain. “Thanks for the flowers,” I remembered to say. “They're lovely. You didn't have to, you know.”
“You're welcome. It's standard practice at Rathnaya when an employee is ill.”
Oh well, so much for my thinking that he'd personally arranged for the flowers. That effectively shut me up. What was I thinking, dreaming up all these romantic possibilities? I was worse than my mom. Prajay was just being a nice guy and a polite boss, while I was casting him in the hero's role. I forced my gaze back to the road and kept it there all the way to the office. Good thing it was only a short drive.
When he pulled into his reserved spot right by the front of the building, once again he went around the car to open my door and assist me in alighting. He opened the door to the building for me and then walked extra slowly through the lobby to keep pace with my awkward shuffle toward the elevators.
A few of Rathnaya's staff were arriving at the same time. Prajay and I got some curious looks. I could practically hear the rumor mill buzzing:
Prajay Nayak drove Meena Shenoy to work. You think something's going on between those two? They belong to the same caste and all, nah?
Inside the elevator, we were surrounded by a bunch of people. I smiled and nodded at the ones I knew.
On the sixth floor, Prajay got off with me and made sure he delivered me safely into Pinky's custody. Then he said to me, “I might be late leaving the office this evening. Hope that's okay?” When I nodded, he hurried out the door and disappeared.
I hadn't even said a proper thank-you and he was gone. I sighed.
Pinky's amused comment brought me back to reality. “Must be nice being chauffeured by the boss.”
“Kind of awkward.”
Pinky gave a sly smile. “How's the foot?”
“Much better. And I'm almost off the painkillers. I only need one at night so I can sleep.”
Paul ended his phone call and came out of his office to greet me with a welcoming hug. “How're you feeling, kid?”
“Almost back to normal, thank you.”
“Prajay make it to your house okay?”
“Yes. He had to borrow a friend's Toyota so I wouldn't have to wiggle in and out of his Corvette.”
Paul's eyebrows flew up. “Very thoughtful of him.”
I agreed and opened the door to my office. It looked like Pinky had tried to neaten up my messy desk without actually disturbing my paperwork. I smiled at her obvious efforts.
Although I'd been out less than three working days it felt like weeks. It hadn't been fun being cooped up in the house, wondering what people were saying about my accidentâmainly speculating over Gargi's loose comments.
Once I sat down at my desk it was easy to get into the swing of things. I'd been working on two press releases the previous week, which I managed to complete and put on Paul's desk for his review. Then there were some letters to be drafted, to be sent to the governor's office, the appropriate state senator and assemblymen, and some local politicians, about the company's latest acquisition. The politicians would be happy to hear that the move would create more jobs in the state. Later, Paul and I worked on our latest ad for
NJ BIZ
magazine.
I attended one minor meeting late in the afternoon. By the end of the day my ankle was beginning to ache. I'd probably been putting too much weight on it as I'd limped back and forth several times to the ladies' room, the conference room, and the copier.
When Paul and Pinky got ready to leave for the day, they both looked at me with concern.
“You going to be okay until Prajay shows up?” asked Paul.
I smiled brightly. “Of course I will. Go on home, you guys.” If Paul didn't get home on time, Jeremy was likely to call.
“Want me to stay with you?” offered Pinky, but I noticed her eyeing the clock.
“Don't be silly.” I waved her away. “Your kids are waiting for you.”
After Paul and Pinky left, I browsed a bit on the Internet, going to various sites to look at our competitors' ads. I always liked to see what others were doing to boost their business.
I didn't have to wait too long for Prajay. He called a few minutes before he showed up, giving me time to brush my hair and freshen my lipstick. “Sorry to have made you wait, but I had a few things to finish up,” he explained.
“It's nothing,” I said and stepped out. “I should be the one to apologize for being in your way.”
“It's no problem, Meena. My condo is close to your home.” Once again Prajay helped me into the car with all the grace he could muster. I stumbled a little while climbing in, but managed to get the seat belt fastened.
Going home was much easier than the ride in to work, but the trip was longer because it was dark outside and the evening traffic was heavy. I could converse more freely, now that I knew he was easy to talk to.
While stopped at a traffic light, Prajay turned to me. “So, how do you like working for Rathnaya?”