There's Something About Sweetie(16)

Sunita auntie laughed. “No. But I did text Ishmael to tell him she was coming. Hopefully, he’ll have something else to please her.”

Sweetie relaxed. This act of kindness didn’t feel like charity. She got the feeling that Sunita auntie genuinely didn’t like Tina auntie too much, and the thought cheered her. The waitress arrived with their food, and Sweetie dug in with gusto. “Mm.” She closed her eyes. “Those Zagat reviews don’t lie. This is heaven.”

Amma gave her an embarrassed smile. It was Amma’s opinion that Sweetie should never talk about food. “If you act like you don’t like it, then people will assume you have thyroid problems, mol,” she often said. Because thyroid problems were sympathetic, but being fat was not. Fatness made you the enemy of the people.

“Isn’t it delicious?” Sunita auntie said. “I’ve never had such good aloo mattar.” Dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she said, “You know, my oldest son, Rishi, loves aloo mattar.” She smiled a little wistfully. “None of us like it as much as he does, so we hardly ever eat it anymore now that he’s away at SFSU.”

“How often do you get to see him?” Sweetie asked.

“Once a month or so. He tries to divide his time between us and Dimple, but of course, Dimple usually wins.” She said it without bitterness, with a fond sparkle in her eye.

“And how are things? With him and Dimple?” Amma asked.

“Absolutely great,” Sunita auntie said. “I would like them to get married after Dimple finishes graduate school, but Rishi tells me I must not ever bring it up. Apparently, she’s of the more modern mind-set and would prefer not to think of marriage until her thirties.” She sighed.

“Kids nowadays have their own ideas about how things should be,” Amma said, and Sweetie could almost hear the tsking.

“Oh, yes. Ashish is completely different from Rishi. He’s very … modern. Very Americanized.” Her gaze darted to Sweetie. “Have you run into him at any of your games, Sweetie?”

She shook her head. “No, but some of my friends have. So I know of him. I saw his picture in the paper recently. Oh, and congratulations! I hear he has a really good shot at playing basketball in college.”

“Yes, yes, he’s very athletic, just like you,” Sunita auntie said. “Everything on that front is going well. But … I really wish he would find an Indian girl to date. These other girls just break his heart.”

Amma looked a little embarrassed. She wasn’t opposed to Sweetie dating, but that wasn’t a problem she’d ever had to worry about, and Sweetie got the feeling that both she and Achchan were happy that things were that way. “Oh, perhaps when he’s in college …”

“Yes, that’s what I thought, but then it occurred to me: If he’s already like this with our moderating influence, can you imagine what he’ll be like in college? He seems to think that if he dates an Indian girl, we’ll be breathing down his neck the entire time. But I keep telling him, it’s not like we expect him to get married at seventeen! Maybe dating Sweetie will show him we can restrain ourselves.” She smiled at Sweetie.

Amma laughed, a nervous, high-pitched sort of thing. “Yes, yes, maybe you’re right. Of course, we wouldn’t know about such matters.”

Sunita auntie’s careful gaze slid from Sweetie to Amma. “Sweetie’s not allowed to date? I was under the impression that you and your husband—Soman, isn’t it?—were not opposed to it.”

The waitress came by to check on them, and there was a slightly awkward shift as they all reassured her that their food was, in fact, as delicious as they’d expected. When she was gone, Amma said, “Well. This was absolutely delightful, Sunita! Thank you so much for inviting us. But now, I think, we must go.” She smiled a fake smile that looked like someone had just suggested she eat a bag of hair but she wasn’t sure how to refuse politely. “Soman is returning from his business trip in an hour.”

“But I thought Achchan was gone till tomo—”

“He called. His flight changed.” Amma glared at her. “Come on.” She reached for her purse, but Sunita auntie waved her off.

“Oh, no, please, this was my treat.” After pausing, she asked delicately, “I hope I haven’t offended …?”

“No, please, don’t worry; we are just in a hurry. Nothing to do with you. Thank you very much for the lunch.” Amma kept smiling that rictus fake smile as she and Sweetie got up and made their way outside, leaving a somber-looking Sunita auntie behind.

“Amma, what—” Sweetie began as soon as they were out in the parking lot.

“Nothing.” Amma walked briskly to their car. She could move at a pretty good clip for someone who was totally unathletic in every other way, and Sweetie sped up too.

“Is Achchan really coming home today?”

“No.”

They got in and buckled up, Amma already backing out before Sweetie was fully finished. “Then why did you—”

“I have my reasons, Sweetie.” That tone meant, Don’t ask me any more questions, because you’re not getting any answers.

Sweetie sighed. “Is it because it’s Ashish Patel? Do you not approve of him?”

Amma said nothing. Her eyes were glued to the mostly empty highway as if it were that old Malayalam movie Kilukkam, which featured Amma’s lifelong crush, Mohanlal.