My So-Called Bollywood Life(41)

    The sales assistant who she called over was painfully thin, with frizzy black hair that was ferociously bound in a thick ponytail. She had a large red bindi pasted to the middle of her forehead. “Can I help you?” she asked in a thick accent.

The women spoke while Winnie forced herself to wait patiently. Jyoti then left to get a few options.

“Ma, where’s Bridget?”

“She’s upstairs trying on the men’s clothes,” her mother said. “Something about gender-bending pants. I didn’t think they sold those types of pants here.”

“I’m going to wait in the fitting room.” Winnie slipped behind the curtain and perched on the bench. This night was never going to end unless she did something about it. She reached for her phone and called Dev.

“Hey,” Dev said when he picked up the phone. “I’m in the middle of shooting, so you have two minutes before I gotta go.”

Winnie heard the sound of people talking in the background, and maybe even bells. “I thought you already finished your movie for the festival,” she whispered.

“I’m making some last-minute changes. And why are you whispering?”

“Because I’m in a dressing room, and your mother, my mother, my grandmother, and the saleslady are trying to get me to buy an Indian outfit. I don’t even want to buy an Indian outfit.”

    “Wait, wait. You’re in a fitting room? Naked, possibly? I don’t believe you.”

She smiled only because she knew that he wasn’t there to see it. “Please do something.”

“I have no idea why my mother is there, but I can call her if you do one thing for me.”

“I’m not taking pictures for you!”

“No, you perv,” he said with a laugh. “Go on that date you promised me. On Saturday. We’ll go somewhere. Or come to my house and we’ll watch movies.”

She felt her fingers go numb, and she gripped the phone a little tighter. She didn’t want to drop it midswoon. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten you in three years, Winnie,” he said.

Winnie closed her eyes at the sound of those words and pressed a fist to her beating heart.

“Dev,” she said. “This is fast.”

“Not for me. I have to go.”

“Winnie!” The sound of her name coming from outside the curtain raked on her nerves.

“Dev, call your mom.”

“You got it. I’ll call…as soon as I finish this scene.”

“Dev!”

“Just a few minutes,” he said, and hung up the phone.

    She couldn’t decide if she was annoyed or amused by him. She put her phone away. Everything faded out and her eyes locked onto the delicate lengha in Jyoti’s arms.

The skirt was bright red with a thick gold border at the bottom. She could already tell that it was so full that if she twirled, the fabric would fan around her. The top was black and belly-baring, with a matching gold border right under the bust line. The sleeves were black and plain. The chuni was a sunset yellow with gold trim. The three different colors shouldn’t have worked, but for some reason they melded together perfectly. It was unlike any other combination of color she’d seen in the store.

“This is it,” Jyoti said, beaming. “This is perfect for you. With your height and hair, and your curvy midsection, you’ll be the most beautiful person at the dance. I’ll be right back with some jewelry.” She hustled away.

“You like it, beta?”

“I love it. Thanks, Nani. Really. Is it too expensive, though?”

“You let me worry about that. You need to dress like the heroine you were meant to be.”

“Here we are,” Jyoti said as she presented a felt-lined box filled with different types of jewelry. Dev’s mom reached in and pulled out a silver bracelet. The bangle was a thin rope of sterling silver that had two silver balls locking together at the top. A paisley pattern wrapped around the curve of the bracelet, adding a traditional twist to the modern. If Winnie had to wear one bracelet for the rest of her life, the one Dev’s mother was holding would be it.

    “What a beautiful piece,” her grandmother said.

Before Winnie could reply, Bridget called from the staircase. She was wearing a groom’s wedding turban, and her arms were full of jewelry boxes. A harried-looking sales associate rushed after her. “Winnie, I found some anklets!”

Thank the gods for best friends, Winnie thought as everyone focused on Bridget.

In the end she got away with just purchasing the lengha and some new jutti flats that matched the outfit’s color scheme. Bridget was the one who left with jewelry. On the drive home, no one brought up that amazing bracelet they’d seen. Truthfully, she was grateful they’d all taken the hint that she didn’t want to talk about jewelry and prophecies.

But that night, when she was alone in bed, she thought of that perfect silver bracelet again before she drifted off to sleep.



* * *



—

Winnie ran hard and fast through the field, gasping all the way. She felt a weight on her wrist sliding with each step, and she stopped to look down at it.

It was the bracelet. The same one she’d seen in the shop. It fit so perfectly and felt so right. She scanned the horizon and saw the familiar outline of Shah Rukh Khan in the distance. She started running again. Maybe he could tell her what this all meant.