There's Something About Sweetie(46)

“Pappa, it’s okay, I have some money left over from my last allowa—”

“Just take.” He thrust the money at his son.

Ashish took it quietly. “Thanks, Pappa.”

Kartik uncle grunted in response. Sunita auntie clasped her hands, her eyes shining. “Well, I don’t want to take up too much time. …”

Ashish and Sweetie stood in unison.

“Thik hai, Ma,” Ashish said. “We’ll see you both later?”

His parents nodded. Sweetie could tell from the barely suppressed energy in the room that it was all Sunita auntie could do not to hover and shepherd them to the door, maybe even smooth out Ashish’s cowlick and kiss him on the cheek. Somehow she resisted. Sweetie was impressed; Amma could never show such restraint.

Outside, birds chirped in the trees beatifically. The trees whispered in the wind, and the fountain in the distance gurgled its silver song. Everything looked and sounded perfect: sunny and bright, cheerful and melodic. Maybe you couldn’t buy happiness, but you could definitely buy something adjacent to it. Dealing with hardships had to be easier when you lived on what was basically a movie set.

Sweetie walked to Ashish’s Jeep, but he shook his head and led her around the house to a series of garages instead. In one of those sat a shiny red Porsche, perched prettily on its shiny wheels. “I thought we’d take this instead,” Ashish said. “Seems a little more datelike to me. I mean, if you’re okay with it.” He dropped his gaze and ran a hand through his hair as he said it, like he was afraid she’d think he was being silly.

Sweetie’s heart squeezed in her chest. It was really sweet of him to make an effort, even though this wasn’t a traditional first date in the strict sense of the term for so many reasons. “It’s perfect,” she said, and Ashish grinned, bright and happy.

Pavan Mandir was a forty-minute drive away. Sweetie tried not to focus on Ashish’s perfectly muscled forearm, the way his big hand gripped the gear shift loosely, the confident way he shifted gears and sped up or slowed down through traffic. She tried not to notice the way his seat belt stretched tight against his muscled chest, or the way his pants hugged his thighs. Never having been in such close proximity to a boy, Sweetie realized something: Hormones were almost impossible to ignore. After clearing her throat to distract herself, she said, “Do you and your parents go to Pavan Mandir a lot?”

At the same time Ashish said, “You look really pretty today.”

They both looked at each other for a second in awkward silence, waiting for the other to continue. Then they both burst out laughing. Sweetie pointed at him. “You first.”

“Okay.” He grinned that half-grin thing he did when he was feeling especially cocky. The one that did strange things to her heartbeat. “I think you look really beautiful today.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “You said ‘pretty’ the first time. Why the change?”

Ashish laughed. “Does it really matter?”

“Oh, yes, it does. ‘Pretty’ is a step down from ‘beautiful.’ So you were lying either the first time or the second time.” She put on a mock-serious expression. “Which was it?”

Ashish darted his eyes around like he was terrified. “Uh … I meant you’re both pretty and beautiful? So, like, pretty to the beautiful power?”

Sweetie snorted. “That was a really bad save, but I’ll let it go this time.”

“Thank you. So to answer your question, I’ve been to Pavan Mandir mayyyybe twice in the last year.”

“Seriously?” Sweetie couldn’t imagine that. Her parents made the trek every other week, and she usually went along, unless she had something track related. “Why not? Are your parents not religious?”

“Oh, they are. Ma especially. But they gave up that battle in favor of other, bigger ones. I’m actually pretty sure that’s what this whole first-date-at-the-mandir thing is about. They’re forcing me to go. Parental units one, Ashish zero.”

Sweetie frowned. “No … I don’t think they’re trying to one-up you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She paused, afraid she’d overstepped. “At least, that’s just my opinion.”

Ashish darted a glance her way. “Oh? Do tell. I’m curious to hear what you think of all of this.”

“Well, I’m no parent, but … I think it’s probably hard for Sunita auntie and Kartik uncle. You seem … pretty disinterested in Indian culture. I mean, you made it a point not to date Indian girls at all before me. So maybe they’re not trying to get one over on you by making you go to the mandir for your first date. Maybe they’re just trying to create, I don’t know, like, a positive association for you or something. Maybe they’re hoping you’ll have fun and then you’ll see it isn’t so bad. Maybe to your parents, you not liking Indian culture feels like a rejection of them?” Sweetie stopped, sucking on her lower lip, afraid she’d make him mad with some of the stuff she’d said. “But obviously that’s just what I think. And I don’t know you or them very well at all.”

Ashish was quiet for a while. Sweetie began to get more and more nervous that she’d totally wrecked any chance of a salvageable first date, when he turned to her, smiling, before turning back to the road. “I think you may be right. My mom actually said something to that effect—that maybe I think my culture’s uncool because they’ve pushed it on me and I think they’re uncool. Wow.” He paused, thinking. “It’s kind of sad. I never want them to feel like I’m rejecting them.” Turning to Sweetie again briefly, he said, “I’ve lived with my parents for seventeen years and I would never have come to that conclusion. But it feels right now that you’ve said it. I wonder if you actually understand them better than I do.”