There's Something About Sweetie(47)
Sweetie laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s easy sometimes to have a clear perspective as an outsider. Know what I mean?”
Ashish looked at her again, and this time she saw respect and something that looked a lot like admiration in his gaze. She tried not to flush. “Yeah, I do. You might be one of the wisest people I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know. … What about Oliver? He seemed pretty wise. So does your mom.”
“Yeah, okay. But definitely in the top three.”
“I’ll take it.” Sweetie grinned, more pleased than she let on.
CHAPTER 17
Pavan Mandir was a big, white, open-sided temple set on a hill that overlooked Frye Lake. Pavan meant “wind” in Hindi, and the temple got its name because it had no real walls or doors, just a series of beams and pillars that connected its ceiling to its floor. The wind off the lake swept in with abandon, leaving the temple slightly chillier than the day outside.
Sweetie loved it with all her heart. She had good memories of coming here throughout her childhood, letting the wind try to make off with her dupatta while her parents paid their respects to the Shiva lingam, the sacred stone, inside. The air always felt more cleansing in here, and no matter what worries she came with, Sweetie always left with a peace of mind that lasted all day.
They got out of the car and walked up the steps, before taking off their shoes to go inside. As soon as they set foot in the temple, the wind began to blow. Sweetie’s hair floated around her, and giggling and holding on to her dupatta, she smiled up at Ashish. “I love it here.”
He was watching her with an unreadable expression, his eyes intense and serious. She was just beginning to wonder what was going on when he smiled too. It was like the sun had suddenly burst out through thunderclouds; even Sweetie’s bones felt warm.
They moved forward together to pray, and after taking the prasad offering from the pujari, they walked off to the side to look out over Frye Lake. The view was incredible: Wispy white clouds were smeared across the brilliant-blue spring sky, and the lake looked like a giant glittering diamond under the sun. They stood by a pillar, just watching and breathing in the air, for a long moment. A bird called in the distance, and another answered it in sweet song.
“This is actually really beautiful,” Ashish said.
Sweetie looked to see him gazing down at the water, his expression thoughtful. “It’s restorative,” she said carefully. “I like to imagine my stress in a box that I leave at the steps here.” Sweetie tied her dupatta like a sash at her hip so it would stay put. She smoothed her hair back into a bun, aware that Ashish was watching her every move. “I’m kind of glad my parents made it a bimonthly-ish habit for me.”
“That’s good.” Ashish had a slight smirk on his face, but he spoke quietly. “I’m rethinking my position on this.”
Sweetie smiled. She sat on the edge of the floor, her gaze still on the lake. “Let’s sit here for a while, then,” she said, sensing that Ashish needed this more than he was letting on.
After a pause he joined her. “Okay. Maybe just for a little while.”
They walked back to the Porsche in silence. It was weird, but Ashish felt … lighter. His chest felt less tight, like the bands around it had loosened just a bit. There was a surprising comfort in being around his family’s religious culture too, in hearing the familiar words of the priest’s incantations and smelling the sandalwood incense. Like being in a place that inherently understood him and one in which he could be still and be himself.
Ashish wasn’t sure if he believed in God or not, but he couldn’t deny that that particular temple felt really cleansing. It was the way the gardens at home looked after a lashing rainstorm … bright and colorful, dewy and fresh. All the dust and dirt they’d been collecting got washed away, and now Ashish knew how the gardens must feel. His dust and dirt had been washed away too—at least temporarily. Another plus? The stuffy embroidered kurta he’d been forced to wear wasn’t even chafing his skin as much as it usually did.
He glanced at the clock on the dashboard as they slid into their seats. “I know we’ve already been to the mandir and we aren’t contractually obligated to do anything together past that,” he said in a slightly scoffing tone so Sweetie would see that he didn’t care very much about what he was saying at all. “But do you want to go to lunch? I know the people who own this great restaurant. Besides, we’ll be in public, so I think we’ll be okay.” His heart thumped a little unevenly as he waited for her response. Weird.
She smiled at him, completely guileless, and his heart pattered out a few more uneven thumps for good measure. “Why, I’d love to, Mr. Patel.”
He took her to Poseidon, a restaurant not too far from Pavan Mandir. Pappa’s business partner and good friend owned it, which meant the Patels were on a VIP list, which in turn meant they could get a great table pretty much whenever they wanted. The food was delicious, too. (Okay, and it didn’t hurt that Zagat had called it “the most romantic seafood restaurant on the West Coast.” This might not be a completely traditional first date, but dang it, he still had standards.)
“Wow.” Sweetie looked up at the Grecian-inspired pillars and the enormous fountain in the courtyard, which was a statue of Poseidon holding his famed trident. “This is amazing. You know the owners?”