“Here you go.” Gavin puts a freshly brewed cup of chai in front of me as I sit down at the island in my kitchen.
“Bless you, favorite brother-in-law.” I lift the cup to me to inhale deeply. It smells great. And like home. Or like Chachi’s home.
“Do you have those Indian cookies with the baby who’s been on the package for like fifty years? Priya’s got me hooked.”
“Parle-G. You know I do.” I go to the pantry and get out some of the familiar packages.
“Ooh, Parle-G.” Priya finally makes her way to the kitchen. “Hey, where’s my chai?” Priya gives me a dirty look while I take a deep drink of my mug, then stick my tongue out at her.
“Right here.” Gavin gives his wife a mug.
I take another sip. “Mm. Gavin, this is just like Chachimakes it.” I lift my mug in his direction in congratulations and take another sip.
“He knows,” Priya says. I can tell by her tone that they’ve had this debate before, to determine which of them can make the drink better. Over-competitive couple of the year over here.
“She’s jealous.” Gavin confirms my suspicions. “Anyway, I was just chauffeur and chai maker. I’ve got to meet a client for lunch. But I’ll see you guys later. Have fun with the seating chart.” He drops a kiss on Priya’s lips, gives me a hug and puts the pot in the sink on his way out.
“What’s the emergency anyway? I thought the event coordination department handled those details.”
“Yeah. And then I saw they put exes together. And rivals. And you know how much I love drama. But not at my work events.”
See, I would have just let them fight it out because I’m messy. Another reason I’m not management material.
Boxes of takeout food surround us and I can’t see the seating chart that Priya brought anymore. Which is fine, since we got done with that task early and turned on Bravo for a marathon of reality TV, while ordering the delivery laid out in front of us now.
“We should get ready for this party soon,” I say from a burrito coma on one side of my couch.
“Yeah. But now I don’t think I’m going to fit in my dress,” Priya says, getting another slice of pizza and compounding the issue.
“Amateur. Empire-waisted dresses.”
“I know that Empire-waisted dresses exist. But I didn’t realize I’d be going so hard on an international buffet the day of the event. Where we’ll have amazing food catered from Mom’s favorite Indian place.”
I groan. “Are you going back home to change?”
“Nope. Brought my bag for an evening out.” She uses the pizza to point at a garment bag and a duffel bag by my door that I hadn’t noticed before now.
My intercom chimes and I’m about to say, “Not it,” but Priya beats me to it.
“Fine. I’ll get it then, shall I?” I get off the couch and stretch, feeling the TV marathon.
“It’s your home,” Priya yells at me as I walk to the box.
It’s Beau and I buzz him in. A minute later, the elevator doors open and Beau slides in, wrapping an arm around me and kissing me before I can say hi or that Priya’s here.
He probably gets the hint though since there’s whistling and cheering going on from behind us.
Beau lifts his head without removing his arm and looks to see who the audience is. “Hi. Priya, right?”
He lets go of me and reaches out to shake her hand. She takes the hand and pulls him in for a hug. “Good to see you again, Beau.” She throws a proud look at me over his shoulder, and I know she wants praise for not calling him a peachperson to his face.
She is not going to get praise for doing the bare minimum. And I hope my glare tells her that.
“I’ve always been so interested in cows,” Priya begins and I glare at her even more, while Beau explains he has peach trees. Which she already knows. But this is her revenge.
Family.
Beau takes off his coat as Priya leads him to the couch and I take the moment to appreciate how nice he looks in a suit. I’m still surprised I haven’t seen him in flannel or jeans, but maybe he left them all back at the orchard.
