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“And like you, strong and loving.” I smiled at her in the mirror, and her fair face flushed with humility.
I held her shoulders and leaned in to whisper, “You’re not going to cry, are you? I might be good at many things, but I really can’t handle tears. I’m not Ma.”
Jia gave a quick laugh and turned to me. “Alright, I won’t. How’s this one?” she asked, holding the gown up again.
“I’m not loving the sequin work. How’s this?” I showed her a black gown with muted shimmer.
“Black! Are you trying to get me ostracized? People will talk about it for ages if I wear black to my baby’s first event.”
“People will always talk, Jia, and no one knows it better than me. What doyouwant?”
She peered straight into my eyes. “I want you to be as happy as I am right now.”
I frowned. “You’re miserable right now. Nitara’s been keeping you up all night and my useless brother has been pushing off all responsibility on Ma.”
She laughed. “That’s true. Breastfeeding alone is wearing me out. But I still want you to be happy.”
I took her hand. “I’m very happy, Jia. Nitara makes me happy. You all make me happy.”
Her eyes caught a pastel grey dress in the selection the stylist had brought out for us. “I like this one.” She held it up for me. It had a beautiful sheer lace shoulder and long sheer sleeves.
“I love it too. That cascading embroidery is really elegant. Try it, and if it looks good, we’ll get that.”
I got myself a flowy skirt with a crop top and a jacket, and Jia got the grey dress of her choice.
Jia looked stunning the next evening. With Aakash in a smart tuxedo and baby Nitara in pastel pink, they looked the picture-perfect happy new family.
“So good to see you here, Aarti,” Anju said, giving me a hug.
“Thank you, it’s been rough,” I said as I grabbed a glass of white wine from the server.
“Tell me about it,” she said.
Recently divorced, Anju had moved back from Atlanta and had been subjected to similar gossip and speculations about the real reason for the breakup of her marriage.
“How’s New York?” she asked, and a quick smile appeared on my lips in response.
The thought of Sujit filled me with warmth. That gorgeous face, the quippy mouth, those bright eyes, the generous heart. And the dimples, those darn dimples that made my knees wobble.
“It’s good. Keeps me away from unnecessary thoughts.”
“I’m glad you weren’t here for the wedding,” she said in a hushed voice. “It was all anyone would talk about for days before and after.”
“Yes, Aakash told me.”
“Ran into Mihir there. He was with someone new, big surprise. Some FOB this time.”
I shook my head at her use of the slur, but she didn’t notice. “It’s really bizarre,” she continued, staring at the wine in her glass. “She’s unlike any of his previous girlfriends.”
Mihir didn’t have girlfriends. He didn’t believe in relationships, but I didn’t remind her of that. Anju had been obsessed with Mihir since I’d known her. Hopelessly so, because for one, Mihir wasn’t the kind to settle down like she wanted, and two, they were poles apart. Their personalities were just too incongruent. I had tried telling her that years ago as teenagers, but she claimed I was making a move on Mihir myself and wanted her out of the way. I’d zipped my lips after that. I’d known Mihir for just as long, but he wasn’t my type. Sujit, on the other hand, was someone I could dream about with my eyes wide open on those lonely nights when I lay awake in bed trying to quell the fire between my thighs.
“Come tomorrow,” she said, breaking my reverie. I trained my eyes back on her. “Mom mentioned your parents are coming alone. But I want you to come. You shouldn’t be hiding and shying away.”
Anju’s brother was getting engaged, but I’d told Ma I wouldn’t be attending any other parties at this time.
“I’m not hiding,” I argued. Well, I wasn’t anymore. “But I’d like to avoid Sameer right now.”
“He isn’t coming. They are…out,” she said.