There's Something About Sweetie(24)

Achchan came home just as Sweetie was done with her shower and dressed in a nice salwar kameez.

“Molu kutty!” he said when he saw her, wrapping her up in a hug that smelled like airport. Achchan was wide enough that his arms actually wrapped all the way around Sweetie, which made her feel almost small. It was a nice break from being around Amma, who was about the size of a Hobbit (but with hairless feet) and made her feel like a giant troll in comparison. “How’s my favorite child?”

Sweetie laughed as they walked, arm in arm, to the living room. “I’m your only child, Achcha. And I’m fine. How was the flight?”

He groaned. He’d been gone only a week, but he always said leaving them was the hardest thing about his job. “Please, let’s not talk about that. How was practice on Friday? Did you beat your old time?”

Sweetie grinned. “I did. By a whole two seconds.”

“Adipoli!”

They high-fived, Achchan’s face pink with unadulterated glee. Looking at his round, almost cherubic face, thick black mustache streaked with gray, and his big, soft belly, Sweetie felt a tug of affection. Achchan had always accepted her without question. It was like she was more his child than Amma’s. They had the same heart, just cleaved in two.

“What else did you do this weekend?” Achchan asked, just as Amma walked in and smiled at him.

He gave her a peck on the cheek and grinned warmly back. This was about as demonstrative as they got with each other in Sweetie’s presence, but Sweetie supposed it must be different when they were alone together. Her being alive was evidence of that, right?

Ew. Maybe it was better not to think about that.

“We went to the farmers’ market. Sold all of our sweets.”

“Excellent!” Achchan boomed. “Now you must expand your empire, Vidya.”

Amma just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“You must have had a lot of customers to sell all of them, no?” Achchan asked, getting a glass of water.

Amma glanced at Sweetie before looking away. “No, no, it was just one lady. She was a big fan.”

“Oh! Very nice.” Achchan gulped down his water. “It doesn’t surprise me, you know, Vidya. Your sweets are out of this world.”

Sweetie felt a sinking in her stomach. Amma really wasn’t going to tell Achchan about their encounter with Sunita auntie. Sweetie knew exactly what Amma would say if she were confronted: What was the point of bothering Achchan with something that was never coming to pass? Sweetie felt an electric bolt of anger. Amma thought she could control everything about Sweetie’s life—who she went out with, what she wore, what Achchan knew. But she couldn’t control Sweetie’s heart. She couldn’t control Ashish.

“Shall we go get some lunch at It’s All Greek to Me?” Achchan asked when he was finished with his water. It was their ritual; anytime Achchan returned from a business trip, they’d go to this Greek restaurant and eat gyros.

“Sure,” Sweetie said, and then, as Achchan grabbed his car keys, she added, “Do you both mind if I drive this time?”

This was unprecedented. Sweetie never, ever drove when her parents were accompanying her. She watched Achchan’s mouth pop open slightly. She saw Amma’s face go from suspicion to annoyance and back.

“Why?” Amma asked finally.

“Because I want to?” She coughed and tried again, getting rid of the question mark this time. “I want to.” Sweetie’s heart hammered against her chest; she’d never been so assertive in her entire life.

Amma opened her mouth to say something, when Achchan quieted her with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Vidya. Let her drive. After all, she’ll be driving us around a lot in our old age! Might as well start practicing now!” He began guffawing at what he thought was his razor-sharp wit. Amma acquiesced with a slight nod of her head.

Sweetie grinned on her way out the door. Man, it felt good to get her way, to say what she felt. Maybe she could ask for more stuff. Maybe this was how it would begin, her transformation from Sweetie the Softie to Sweetie the Sassy: one statement at a time. Watch out, world. I’m coming.





CHAPTER 9





Ashish was humming as he walked in the front door. And not anything manly; he was humming “Love You like a Love Song” by Selena Gomez. God, if the guys on the team heard him, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

He crossed the foyer, nodding and grinning at Myrna, their housekeeper, who raised her bushy blond eyebrows at him in surprise. As he entered the living room, he decided he’d take a shower and then go see what Oliver and Elijah were up to. And, of course, he’d very casually drop the good news: that he was finally back on that horse they’d been urging him to rope and saddle. Also that he just happened to have hopped back onto the horse with the best track athlete at Piedmont, who also happened to be sporty and absolutely gorgeo—

Ashish stopped short. His parents were sitting on the couch in the living room. They’d drawn the drapes to make the room darker and had then turned on one lone light in the corner. They were staring at him completely seriously.

“Uh, hello,” he said, licking his lips. Jeez. What was with the Godfather impression?

“Ashish, idhar aao. Come sit, beta.” Ma patted the chair next to her.