Nayna snorted. “You’re still thinking too small.” Swallowing the last of a peda that appeared to have condensed milk in it, she said, “Ten kilos.”
Ísa’s shoulders shook, and the two of them shared a laugh before they returned their attention to the next catwalk appearance by Madhuri.
After trying on every single one of the suits, Madhuri began to try on the saris—and Ísa slipped halfway down her seat as if melting into a puddle. Nayna’s grandmother and Madhuri’s friends all laughed, as did Nayna.
Poking her head out of the changing room where their mother was putting her into a sari, Madhuri said, “What’s so funny?”
“I’m trying to slide into another time and dimension where you actually choose a garment before midnight!” Ísa called out.
“Just you wait until it’s your turn. I’ll be the one calling time,” Madhuri threatened, but the response was lighthearted. Madhuri had been missing for a large chunk of Nayna’s and Ísa’s teenage years. And Ísa was deeply loyal and fiercely on Nayna’s side. As a result, she’d always looked askance at Madhuri. However, because they both loved Nayna, the two had come to an accord that allowed such jokes.
“Okay.” Nayna’s mother bustled out and took a standing position on the other side of the chairs, her face glowing. “Madhuri, we’re ready!”
Madhuri stepped out. And the entire room went silent.
Of a luminous shade of gold with a thick gold-on-gold border, the sari caressed Madhuri like a lover without being the least bit indecent. It shimmered like it was lightning given form despite being heavy with embroidery and glittering crystals.
The premade blouse that came with it echoed the embroidered border and fit Madhuri nearly perfectly. A little more taking in at the sides and it would be an absolutely perfect fit. It had a scoop neck and a simple back, but the way the sari draped over everything, the exquisite work on it…
Nayna pressed a hand to her heart, her throat thick. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.
Beside Madhuri, their mother was crying. Madhuri’s own eyes shone wetly before she took their mum into her arms. “I can’t believe I’m going to wear a sari to my wedding,” she blubbered out. “God, it’s so traditional.” Despite her attempt to sound disgusted, it came out delighted and slightly shocked.
But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was the one. It took Madhuri’s beauty and turned it transcendent. She looked as if she’d stepped out of another time, an Indian princess ready for her prince. Nayna wouldn’t be surprised if her sister’s wedding photos ended up in a magazine somewhere. Especially as Madhuri had—by working her contacts—found an award-winning photographer to record the event.
When the shop owner finally found his voice again, he tried to steer Madhuri toward the section that sold twenty-two-karat-gold jewelry, but she was having none of it.
“I’ll be wearing my mother’s, my nani’s, and my aji’s jewelry,” she said with a deep smile aimed at Aji and their mother. Their maternal grandmother, their nani, had passed on, but she’d left her jewelry to her daughter, and so Madhuri would wear both families’ histories when she walked to her groom.
Aji dabbed at her eyes while Shilpa Sharma continued to sniffle. Nayna got up and hugged both her mother and sister at once.
“I’m so happy for you, Maddie.” Pulling back, she cupped her sister’s face in her hands and smiled. This, she thought, this was the relationship they would have now.
As adults in charge of their own destinies.
No resentments, no shadows of the past. They were forging into the future in different directions, each choosing her own path but always family, always sisters.
“Ninu,” Madhuri whispered in her ear after the tears had passed, “how much has Anjali had to drink? I’m sure she just muttered something about the offspring of a buffalo.”
39
Broken Hearts Can Be Mended
It was eleven o’clock at night by the time Nayna finally returned home. She’d offered to take Anjali home, but Madhuri had said she’d look after her friend. Nayna had helped out by parking Anjali’s car in the bridal boutique’s private back lot for Anjali to pick up when she was sober. She and Ísa had still been giggling over Anjali’s repertoire of badly translated insults when they pulled out of the lot in Nayna’s car.
“Sad to see a grand romance come to this,” Nayna had said afterward.
“I remember you telling me about the proposal with the plane and the picnic.” Yawning, Ísa had stretched out her body. “All that is nice, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t sound like the two actually ever had any talks of substance—I mean, she seems completely surprised by who he is.”
Nayna couldn’t disagree with her friend there.
Once she’d dropped Ísa home and made her way to her apartment, Nayna went to call Raj, she was missing him so, but decided against it at the last minute. He was getting up at the crack of dawn to take advantage of the summer light, and she didn’t want to interrupt his sleep. She’d messaged him from the shop earlier, giving him a rundown of events.
He’d been doing paperwork for the business but had paused to send back a sexy photo featuring his face and naked upper body. The sight of his lightly furred chest lovingly caressed by the desk light had curled her toes, but what had made it even sexier was the smile creasing his cheeks. Only Nayna ever got that smile.
She’d all but sighed into a melted puddle… then had to hurriedly hide the photo when her mother sat down next to her. Hugging the memory close, she’d just kicked off her shoes when her phone rang in her hand.
“Raj,” she said, answering at once. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“I’m at the hospital.” A strain in his voice she’d never before heard.
Nayna was already shoving her feet back into her shoes. “What’s happened? Are you all right? I’m on my way.”
“My father’s had a heart attack.” Other sounds behind him, machines beeping and the echo of an intercom summoning a doctor. “He collapsed while he and my mother were watching TV. I got him in the ambulance with Ma, and I just arrived at the hospital with Aditi. We don’t know anything yet.”
“I’m getting in my car. I’ll see you soon.” Her heart thundered; Raj was as close to his family as she was to her own. If anything happened to his father, it would devastate him.
* * *
Raj was waiting for her near the elevators; Nayna had messaged him when she got into the parking lot, to find out if they were in the ER or had been moved to a cardiac ward. Going straight to him, she hugged him tight. His arms squeezed her with crushing strength, but she didn’t care. She was ready to give him anything he needed.
“How is he?”
“In surgery,” Raj told her, his voice rasping. “It’s bad.”
Nayna just held him and let him hold on to her until he was ready to draw back.
“Ma and Aditi are in the waiting room,” he said. “Komal was on shift in another ward, but she got her charge nurse to replace her, and she’s helping make sure we’re kept updated. I haven’t been able to reach Navin—he went out for a friend’s bachelor party, probably isn’t paying attention to his phone.”
Ísa’s shoulders shook, and the two of them shared a laugh before they returned their attention to the next catwalk appearance by Madhuri.
After trying on every single one of the suits, Madhuri began to try on the saris—and Ísa slipped halfway down her seat as if melting into a puddle. Nayna’s grandmother and Madhuri’s friends all laughed, as did Nayna.
Poking her head out of the changing room where their mother was putting her into a sari, Madhuri said, “What’s so funny?”
“I’m trying to slide into another time and dimension where you actually choose a garment before midnight!” Ísa called out.
“Just you wait until it’s your turn. I’ll be the one calling time,” Madhuri threatened, but the response was lighthearted. Madhuri had been missing for a large chunk of Nayna’s and Ísa’s teenage years. And Ísa was deeply loyal and fiercely on Nayna’s side. As a result, she’d always looked askance at Madhuri. However, because they both loved Nayna, the two had come to an accord that allowed such jokes.
“Okay.” Nayna’s mother bustled out and took a standing position on the other side of the chairs, her face glowing. “Madhuri, we’re ready!”
Madhuri stepped out. And the entire room went silent.
Of a luminous shade of gold with a thick gold-on-gold border, the sari caressed Madhuri like a lover without being the least bit indecent. It shimmered like it was lightning given form despite being heavy with embroidery and glittering crystals.
The premade blouse that came with it echoed the embroidered border and fit Madhuri nearly perfectly. A little more taking in at the sides and it would be an absolutely perfect fit. It had a scoop neck and a simple back, but the way the sari draped over everything, the exquisite work on it…
Nayna pressed a hand to her heart, her throat thick. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.
Beside Madhuri, their mother was crying. Madhuri’s own eyes shone wetly before she took their mum into her arms. “I can’t believe I’m going to wear a sari to my wedding,” she blubbered out. “God, it’s so traditional.” Despite her attempt to sound disgusted, it came out delighted and slightly shocked.
But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was the one. It took Madhuri’s beauty and turned it transcendent. She looked as if she’d stepped out of another time, an Indian princess ready for her prince. Nayna wouldn’t be surprised if her sister’s wedding photos ended up in a magazine somewhere. Especially as Madhuri had—by working her contacts—found an award-winning photographer to record the event.
When the shop owner finally found his voice again, he tried to steer Madhuri toward the section that sold twenty-two-karat-gold jewelry, but she was having none of it.
“I’ll be wearing my mother’s, my nani’s, and my aji’s jewelry,” she said with a deep smile aimed at Aji and their mother. Their maternal grandmother, their nani, had passed on, but she’d left her jewelry to her daughter, and so Madhuri would wear both families’ histories when she walked to her groom.
Aji dabbed at her eyes while Shilpa Sharma continued to sniffle. Nayna got up and hugged both her mother and sister at once.
“I’m so happy for you, Maddie.” Pulling back, she cupped her sister’s face in her hands and smiled. This, she thought, this was the relationship they would have now.
As adults in charge of their own destinies.
No resentments, no shadows of the past. They were forging into the future in different directions, each choosing her own path but always family, always sisters.
“Ninu,” Madhuri whispered in her ear after the tears had passed, “how much has Anjali had to drink? I’m sure she just muttered something about the offspring of a buffalo.”
39
Broken Hearts Can Be Mended
It was eleven o’clock at night by the time Nayna finally returned home. She’d offered to take Anjali home, but Madhuri had said she’d look after her friend. Nayna had helped out by parking Anjali’s car in the bridal boutique’s private back lot for Anjali to pick up when she was sober. She and Ísa had still been giggling over Anjali’s repertoire of badly translated insults when they pulled out of the lot in Nayna’s car.
“Sad to see a grand romance come to this,” Nayna had said afterward.
“I remember you telling me about the proposal with the plane and the picnic.” Yawning, Ísa had stretched out her body. “All that is nice, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t sound like the two actually ever had any talks of substance—I mean, she seems completely surprised by who he is.”
Nayna couldn’t disagree with her friend there.
Once she’d dropped Ísa home and made her way to her apartment, Nayna went to call Raj, she was missing him so, but decided against it at the last minute. He was getting up at the crack of dawn to take advantage of the summer light, and she didn’t want to interrupt his sleep. She’d messaged him from the shop earlier, giving him a rundown of events.
He’d been doing paperwork for the business but had paused to send back a sexy photo featuring his face and naked upper body. The sight of his lightly furred chest lovingly caressed by the desk light had curled her toes, but what had made it even sexier was the smile creasing his cheeks. Only Nayna ever got that smile.
She’d all but sighed into a melted puddle… then had to hurriedly hide the photo when her mother sat down next to her. Hugging the memory close, she’d just kicked off her shoes when her phone rang in her hand.
“Raj,” she said, answering at once. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“I’m at the hospital.” A strain in his voice she’d never before heard.
Nayna was already shoving her feet back into her shoes. “What’s happened? Are you all right? I’m on my way.”
“My father’s had a heart attack.” Other sounds behind him, machines beeping and the echo of an intercom summoning a doctor. “He collapsed while he and my mother were watching TV. I got him in the ambulance with Ma, and I just arrived at the hospital with Aditi. We don’t know anything yet.”
“I’m getting in my car. I’ll see you soon.” Her heart thundered; Raj was as close to his family as she was to her own. If anything happened to his father, it would devastate him.
* * *
Raj was waiting for her near the elevators; Nayna had messaged him when she got into the parking lot, to find out if they were in the ER or had been moved to a cardiac ward. Going straight to him, she hugged him tight. His arms squeezed her with crushing strength, but she didn’t care. She was ready to give him anything he needed.
“How is he?”
“In surgery,” Raj told her, his voice rasping. “It’s bad.”
Nayna just held him and let him hold on to her until he was ready to draw back.
“Ma and Aditi are in the waiting room,” he said. “Komal was on shift in another ward, but she got her charge nurse to replace her, and she’s helping make sure we’re kept updated. I haven’t been able to reach Navin—he went out for a friend’s bachelor party, probably isn’t paying attention to his phone.”
