I nod. He has probably seen the papers, too.
‘We should go ahead with this because it would be good for the people and also for the family.’ Father picks his words carefully.
‘My only request is that we finish yours and Navya’s weddings before we give it away.’
I don’t nod. ‘We are not giving anything away, if I can help it, now or ever.’ I taste the fury of my words. ‘We are leasing it, Father. We are not giving it away. We are not selling!’
Father’s smile is bright. It might’ve been the dark liquid that he just had a second sip of. ‘I know, I know,’ he says, his tone light.
I briefly consider asking Father about Prathap Gowda being the lead player of the conglomerate we are entertaining, but I quickly dismiss it. Is it even possible that Father didn’t know? Gaurav Rathore Singh never makes a move without knowing every minuscule detail of the players in the game.
A silence descends on the room again. I can hear my thoughts.
Father is on his second drink. Beside the lounge chair on which he has settled is the newspaper I have read and tossed aside. He may have peeped at the open page, but he didn’t pick it up. It occurs to me that nowhere in the report (that I had fully scanned) was there even a mention of Ranibagh being leased.
Father’s eyes are on the wall before him when Mother and Navya walk into the room.
‘Why is every curtain in the room drawn apart?’ Navya asks.
Raj Kiran stumbles over a stool, trying to get to the window behind me.
‘Dheere se,’ Father says.
I’m on my feet, but Raj Kiran is nimble enough to halt the fall, which saves him from a few broken teeth.
Navya is looking for sunglasses, the ones she keeps in every room she visits. When she finally locates them, she brings down a pile of books with them.
‘We are never short of entertainment when the family visits!’ I say,making my way across the room.
I help Navya sort the pile of books that lands on her glasses, dislodging the temple on the right side. She picks up the broken spectacles and balances them on one side.
‘Why are you so snarky?’ she asks.
I shrug. ‘Always happy to help, Sister!’
‘I wanted to go to Aaditha’s store for coffee this morning, but I got up really late,’ Navya grumbles.
‘There’s a big difference in the coffee from our machine and the one in Aaditha’s store,’ Mother chimes in.
‘Just as well that the store is just outside the gates,’ Father says, smiling at his wife.
Mother launches into an offensive on Father’s observation. She chides him for not being on social media enough to even know what is being said about their to-be daughter-in-law.
‘There’s talk,’ she says, raising the timbre of her voice, ‘that Ranibagh is financing her coffee shop.’
‘It’s very unfair,’ she continues, stressing on the adverb.
‘What Aaditha has done with this brand is just brilliant,’ Navya says before she turns on me. ‘Why are you just sitting there idly, brother? Why are you not defending Aaditha in the press? Such vile stuff is being said about her on social media.’
Father puts down his drink and repeats the three words that he has told us at different times in our lives. ‘Ranibagh doesn’t explain.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Navya says, ‘we know that, but this is not about Ranibagh.’
Navya turns to me and raises a brow. ‘Have you had a fight with Aaditha, Brother?’
‘She has a great business brain,’ I say, feeling compelled to speak.
I reach for my phone, which is on silent, wondering if Aaditha called me back.
