Her voice shocks me out of my trance and I turn. “Because I decided on a last-minute trip to India without luggage or first-class seats.”
“Okay, then.” She settles in next to me to look at the door to the office suite. “Did you come this way to see our high-quality wood and craftsmanship, or are you going in?”
“I hadn’t decided yet.” Do we only hire people with sass? We need to reconsider this business policy.
“Well. It would be a waste of all your effort if you went back now.”
I crinkle my nose in distaste. “And exhausting if I went back without at least a night to sleep in between.”
“You make a good point. It really seems like there’s only one thing left to do.” Viti gives me a light shove with her shoulder against mine.
When I just look at her, frozen in fear and sadness, she takes matters in her own hands and knocks on the door. Because she’s busy and she doesn’t have time for my family crises.
That’s fair.
“Come in,” Mom says through the door.
“Good luck,” Viti whispers as she opens the door and holds it to let me go through it first.
“Thanks.” I walk in quickly before I can flee.
“Viti, do you have the sales figures for our last event?” Mom asks as I walk in, not looking up from her computer. Is this a family skill that I never got? I would like to have half as much drive as these workaholics. Ugh, but not their sad personal lives.
The office is just like I remember: the same we’re-richer-than-you-so-trust-us-with-your-treasures vibe as the New York office, but with an Indian flavor. There are scalloped arches framing the windows, with glistening marble on the floor. Mom commissioned the mural behind the desk of Krishna and Radha dancing when she took over the offices.
I played under that mural the few times I visited the offices here. Mom wasn’t happy when I started drawing rainbows around the peacock at Radha’s feet, not impressed with my eight-year-old level of skill.
“I do. And another surprise as well,” Viti says when she sees that I’m not making my presence known.
“What is—Sonia?” Mom stands up, a mix of confused and polite happiness on her face. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay? What happened to your arm?”
“Yeah. Well, no. But mostly, yeah.” I ignore the bit about my cast. I have other things to focus on.
An arched eyebrow rises. “Yes, but no, but yes? Is this the education we spent so much money on in the States?”
I sigh in frustration. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you.”
Mom gets over some of the shock of seeing me here and comes around her giant historic desk. I get a belated hug, but a strong one. “It’s always good seeing you. But it’s a long way to come for chai. Viti, can you call up some chai from the kitchen?”
“Of course. I’ll leave the numbers here.” Viti slides a folder on Mom’s desk and gets out of the office before she can get dragged further into the family drama about to unfold.
“Did you want to pop into the bathroom before chai? Where are your bags?” She looks around me, probably looking for my luggage. Because that’s what people bring when they travel across the globe.
“It was kind of a last-minute trip.”
“What’s going on?” Mom leads me to the couches in her room, moving three decorative pillows out of the way before I have the gall to sit on them. I put my purse on the glass tabletop being held up by a golden elephant that must be a new addition.
Before I can answer, Dad bursts through the door. “Deepa, where are the figures from the last sale?”
“Arjun, Sonia’s here,” Mom says in lieu of telling him the folder is on her desk.
“Sonia? What are you doing here?” He gives me his own hug, getting used to the idea much faster than Mom did, and then sits down on the chair opposite the couch.
This is good that they’re both in the same place and at the same time. I don’t know if I can do this once much less go through it once for each parent.
“I need to talk to both of you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
