Still, I have one major task to fulfill today. At half past seven, people begin to trickle in, and I hover idly by the staging area, scouring the entrance as I refresh my phone for updates. My brothers, usually each other’s shadows, are divided on ushering shifts, and Sanju comes to rest at my side after escorting the Satoors to their table.
I raise a brow at him. “Well?” I say, impatient.
“Relax, Rani Tai,” he says. “It’s taken care of.”
My phone lights up then with an email from Kush. The body is empty, and the subject line is simply:mission is a go.
A smile twitches at my lips. It’s a new bit of his, occasional random emails throughout the day instead of regular texts. Making up for past missed communication, as he likes to say. I glance up, and we lock eyes across the room. He’s handsome in a navy-silver ensemble, and his expression is warm and mirthful even as Shilpa Aunty fusses beside him. He tilts his head toward the center table, and I take my cue.
I find Ajoba by the pani puri fountain. “This party should qualify as elder abuse,” he remarks, pushing a puri into his mouth.
“Don’t call yourself the e-word,” I say. “You’re still young and spry. And come with me, I have something to cheer you up.”
We arrive just in time. Coordination has been the whole challenge, but it unfolds beautifully. Kush leads Shilpa Aunty to her seat right as Nabhi arrives with Sonal Aunty in tow. Sanju is keeping the husbands occupied by the open bar, so there are no buffers to the interaction. Both women halt at the sight of each other, and Ajoba gives a pleased sigh next to me as he takes in the scene.
Shilpa Aunty breaks the silence with a tinkering laugh. “Sonal,” she says. “I did not realize the function today was an open invite.”
Sonal Aunty glances around, a frosty smile plastered to her lips. “Has there been a mistake with seating arrangements?” she says when she finds me.
I frown, feigning confusion. “Oh,” I say. “I thought you’dboth like to be as close to the stage as possible. But I could try and shift people around if you’re not comfortable here?”
Sonal Aunty bristles as she weighs the indignity of relinquishing a prime spot against the indignity of Shilpa Aunty’s company. Having long disliked each other, the Mehra–Pujari feud has only intensified in the aftermath of a contentious spat at Noori Aunty’s Galentine’s brunch this year. In the months since, we’ve gone so far as to take turns inviting either the Mehras or the Pujaris to gatherings. But an event the size of Ajoba’s birthday required the presence of both families. And as soon as RSVPs were confirmed, I knew I had to deliver my grandfather a show.
“No trouble at all,” Sonal Aunty says at last. “Prashant and I will be comfortable here. So long as we’re spared your dancing this year, Shilpa!” She says the last line with a chortle to soften the blow.
Ajoba interjects. “But a performance from Shilpa is my dearest birthday wish.”
Shilpa Aunty’s features morph from a glare to a simper, not registering the sarcasm. “You’re too kind, Uncle, too kind,” she gushes.
Sonal Aunty’s lips form a line as she slides into her seat. Shilpa Aunty talks a well-entertained Ajoba through her routine. His eyes twinkle in gratitude as Kush and I slip away amidst the bustle. It wasn’t an easy job to mess around with Aai’s seating chart without her notice, and I’m sure I’ll hear it from her later, but I could never deny Ajoba this simple pleasure in life.
We beeline for the finger foods, passing a throng of guests crowding around Preeti and baby Ishika. Noori Aunty is among Ishika’s admirers, head bent in a game of peekaboo, Suresh Unclenotably absent from her side. He’s been in and out of Jaipur this last year, and after their divorce was finalized in May, he made the shift permanent. Kush has retained intermittent contact with his dad, and honestly the tension has eased through separation. The Khanna home has never been so peaceful.
Plates assembled, we sink down into a secluded corner bench, careful to leave several inches of space between us. Everyone in attendance today is surely aware of our relationship by now, but we still like to be discreet. The ends of my chunni, baby blue in an accidental complement to Kush’s outfit, tangle in his dupatta.
“Perfect execution,” I tell Kush, clinking my glass of mango lassi to his in a toast.
“Of course,” he says. “I take my job seriously.”
“How was your week?” I ask. I haven’t seen him in a few days, since he’s been at a conference in San Francisco for his research internship. Following a successful MCAT retake, it’s full steam ahead on his med school applications, and he’s been putting in the hours to fill up on work experience.
I miss getting to see Kush on a daily basis, having gotten so used to our routine from this past year at UW, but I have a pretty packed schedule myself. I’m back at the Gilmore Public Library, bringing last summer’s ESL book club back for round two while extending the program into a full-on tutoring scheme. I’ve also taken on a role as Valdivia’s research assistant, so my spare time is extra limited. Which makes these moments with Kush particularly valuable, even if we’re around our more troublesome family friends.
“It was really lovely,” he says. “Might need to add some Bay Area schools to my short list.”
“Nice,” I say. All the photos he sent me of the SF skyline across the water truly looked blissful. “Not too far.”
“No,” he agrees. His eyes spark when they meet mine, dark and glittering. I slurp my drink for something to do. “How was your week?”
“Busy,” I say. “But still some fun bits. Michael and I brought Aryan to the farmer’s market.” For weeks now, Michael has been on a mission to get his boyfriend, who hates leaving the city for suburbia, to properly appreciate our hometown.
“Classic stop on the Gilmore tour,” Kush says. “Can’t believe I haven’t taken him myself.”
“And I’ve been driving Simran to work most days,” I say. It’s an easy car pool situation; Sim’s law firm isn’t too far from campus. “She’s really become my passenger princess.”
“Damn,” Kush says. “I thought that was my role.”
“I can’t have two?” Kush shrugs a shoulder, conceding, and I go on. “We took the scenic route yesterday. Went past the hot springs.”
