by Mona Shroff
He closed his eyes and took a second, larger sip as he sank into the plushness of the chair. The alcohol reached into his fingertips as well as deep into memories long suppressed. He hadn’t made Maya any promises, he’d only said that he would see what he could do. One thing was for sure—Samantha was definitely their daughter.
By the third swallow from that glass he knew sleep would not come, so he surrendered to memories.
A warm hand on his shoulder pulled him from his reverie. “Hey, you. Can’t sleep?” Paige’s red hair was tousled in the most becoming way. It was almost as if she made it look that way on purpose.
Sam grinned at her as he turned the screen of his phone away from her and took her hand. “Yeah.”
“Bourbon? In the middle of the night?” She yawned and came around to sit on his lap. “Must be serious.” Her green eyes were filled with sleep. She curled up and rested her head on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Sam looked down at the top of her head and clicked off his phone screen. “It’s just work. Nothing really.” He stroked her strawberry-scented hair. “Come. Let’s go to bed.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAYA
New York, 2012
MAYA HAD THE giant mixer started by 3:00 a.m. Might as well get some work done, since she wasn’t sleeping anyway. Lyrics from her earbuds taunted her, telling her that now she was just somebody that he used to know. She turned on the roaster and added the coffee beans. This October had been cooler than most, boosting coffee sales, and come November, things would soon get crazy-hectic at the bakery. The coffee shop. Maya shook her head at herself. She had changed the focus of her mother’s business from pure bakery to bakery plus coffee shop over ten years ago, but she still thought of Sweet Nothings as the bakery. To be fair, baking still happened, but only a couple cookie varieties and specialty cakes. Maya now served specialty coffee as well as specialty tea. Specifically, traditional Indian chai, in all its variations. As it was, she had more cookie orders this year than any year previous. And the specialty cake orders were increasing. She needed more space.
Telling Sam he was Samantha’s father had never been part of the plan. She had hoped he would help her out for old times’ sake. Asking him was risky, she knew, but unless she won the lottery, or sold part of the business, there was no way she could come up with the money for a lawyer. Not to mention the damage the charges would do to Samantha’s life.
The giant mixer churned hard. She added chocolate chips and the motor waned a bit under the added struggle.
“Come on,” she urged the mixer. “Don’t fail me now.” As if responding to her, the mixer stuttered, then whirred into rhythmic motion. “Good girl.” She patted the side of the mixer as if it were a favorite pet.
“Are you talking to the machinery again, beta?” Her mother always teased her about this, but Maya had caught her mother doing the same more than once over the course of the years.
“Mum, you know how it is—whatever it takes.” She grimaced. “There’s a fresh shipment of cinnamon for the chai masala in the cupboard.”
She checked on the roaster, grabbing a bean to taste. The instructions always specified a certain amount of roasting time that was optimum for flavor, but nothing was as good as her palate. She hadn’t been the star pupil in culinary school for nothing.
Maybe it was because she’d just seen Sam, or maybe it was because she was waiting for his answer, but the sweet smell of chocolate chips and vanilla, mixing with the butter, flour and sugar of the cookie dough, all carried on the aroma of roasting coffee beans, took her back to that summer in Maryland. It took her back to Sam.
Maya finished the cookies, allowed the beans to cool, and moved on to her next project. Samantha finally awoke and came down from their apartment, which was located above the shop. She took care of the customers, while Maya ground the coffee beans and the remaining spices for the ginger masala chai, and her mother took over the baking. The day passed with still no word from Sam.
Maya started the closing process. She checked her phone—again. She had called Sam twice already, but he hadn’t called back yet. She finished the sweeping, locked the door and set the alarm. Still no response from Sam. She tightened her lips at the phone. He had specifically asked her not to leave a voice mail. He promised he would get back to her.
She leaned against the counter and looked around her shop. Her mother had started this bakery shortly after moving to the States as a single mom. She’d been determined to never be dependent on a man again, so she’d learned how to run a business and provided for herself and her daughter. Maya and her mother had worked hard for every nail, every tile, and every piece of wood in this bakery-turned-roastery. There was a time when Maya had had bigger dreams. But all that had changed. And now all her dreams for herself and Samantha were dependent on the success of Sweet Nothings. Well, most of them. In any case, she really couldn’t sell any portion of it.
She dialed Sam’s cell again. Forget their agreement. She needed an answer. This time she left a message.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SAM
Maryland, 1996
THE ENGINE OF the ’89 Honda Civic didn’t exactly purr, but to Sam, it was the sweet sound of hard work paying off. He had saved up for this car and he loved everything about it, from the powder blue color to the hatchback trunk. He didn’t even care that the passenger-side door occasionally stuck. It was nearly seven years old, but the previous owner had cared for it, so the car ran beautifully.
The clock said 6:55 p.m. when he stepped out of the car and gently closed the door, looking up at Maya’s uncle’s house. A wraparound front porch with a swing, chipping white paint and a fairly well-cared-for lawn. He absently patted the car, as if it were doling out confidence, before approaching the two steps to the front porch. He fingered the coin in his pocket while he rang the bell.
The sound of giggling reached him from behind the door. A teenage girl with a lovely smile and bronze skin opened the door and continued giggling, stopping only when she introduced herself. “I’m Sejal, Maya’s cousin,” she said gesturing for him to come in.
Sam startled at his own reflection in an ornate hall mirror and quickly shifted his gaze to a pink-walled dining room to his left. A pink tablecloth covered the table, and in the center was a stainless steel tray holding two small jars. It looked just like the one his mother left on their dining table. The jars were home to spicy lime or sweet mango pickles that everyone had with every meal.
His attention was diverted back to the giggling girl as she called out. “Maya! He’s hee-ere!” The young girl stood and watched him, her eyes sparkling with delight, but there was no sign of Maya.
Sam was starting to sweat when a stern-looking man, old enough to be his father, ambled into the hallway. The man looked Sam up and down with suspicious, bulging, black eyes. After seeming to determine that it was safe, he thrust out his hand. “Deepak Shah. I am Maya’s uncle.” His Indian accent was mild, and his tone was firm and decidedly unfriendly. “Her mother is my elder sister.”
Sam clasped the man’s hand firmly and smiled, hoping that his hand was dry. “Sam Hutcherson, sir. Nice to meet you.”
The older man grunted. “Hutcherson?” He seemed to repress a smile. “Not John, is it?” He placed a brown hand on his healthy belly. “You are not Dr. John Hutcherson’s son?”
Sam shifted his weight. Where was Maya? “Yes, sir, I am. I believe you might also know my uncle, Sudhir Mehta?”
This time, the uncle’s smile made a small appearance, and then disappeared behind another grunt. “Of course, I know Sudhir.” He did not elaborate. Endless silence floated between them, making Sam’s stomach clench. The uncle continued his assessing stare.
The familiar aroma of onions and garlic sautéing with mustard seeds and cumin reached him from just beyond the pink room, and calmed him enough to break the silence. “Are you also an in
ternist, sir?”
The older man grunted. “Cardiology.”
Great. He’d just borderline insulted the man. Sam turned to the cousin. “What high school do you go to?”
She giggled again, but she obliged. “Wilde Lake.”
“Oh yeah? I graduated—”
Apparently, knowing where Sam had graduated high school was not at the top of Deepak Shah’s priorities, as he chose that moment to bellow, “Maya!”
A breathless Maya came bustling out of the kitchen and into the foyer. “Hi!” Her cheeks were flushed in a most pleasing manner. Sam had to stop himself from staring.
“Sorry,” she said, apology in her eyes, “but all of a sudden, my aunt ‘happened to need’ my baking expertise.” She made air quotes and cast an accusing glance at her uncle. “Know anything about that, Deepak-mama?”
Deepak looked slightly abashed and his demeanor softened. “Truthfully, my sister is very intimidating, and if I am to allow you to go—” he jerked his head in Sam’s direction “—I need to check him out, no? You are like a daughter to me, beta, after all.” He shrugged slightly. “I know his father and his uncle. They are good people.” He put his arm around Maya and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Go, if you must.” He looked at Sam and pointed a firm finger. “Midnight.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam intended to make the most of the next five hours.
Ten minutes later, they were still laughing at Deepak-mama’s strictness, and his fear of Maya’s mother as they pulled into the crowded lot at the movie theater. “My mom is a force—so if you turn out to be a serial killer—she’ll blame Deepak-mama for not properly researching you.”
“Well, I’m not a serial killer, so your mama is safe.”
“Isn’t that what all serial killers say?”
She was smart and funny. Sure that his grin was idiotic, he changed the subject. “How about Mission: Impossible? I haven’t had a chance to see it.”
“I saw it.” Her eyes lit up. “Tom Cruise was amazing. Sorry.” She didn’t sound apologetic. She laughed.
“How about Dragonheart? Can’t go wrong with Sean Connery.”
“But how about actually seeing Sean Connery, as opposed to just hearing him? As in The Rock?”
“You like the blow-up-stuff movies, huh?” A girl who shared his action-movie obsession? Sam bit the inside of his cheek to contain his excitement. He opened his door then turned back to her. “Don’t move.”
Sam hopped out of the car and in a few strides was on Maya’s side. She shrugged as he opened her door. “I like all kinds of movies.” Her nose wrinkled adorably when she smiled, and her mouth turned up just a little bit more on one side than the other.
When she stood he noticed, as he had before, that she needed to tilt her chin up to look at him.
“Thanks,” she said as he shut the door behind her. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing Sean shoot at things.”
“But dragons and swords and honor? How can one resist?”
Maya’s grin was friendly, but there was no mistaking the firmness behind it. “Well, then it seems we’re at an impasse.”
“I have a suggestion.” He pulled the coin from his pocket. “We’ll flip for it.”
“Are you serious? You begged me for a date, and now we’re going to flip for the movie?”
“I did not beg.” Sam couldn’t suppress his smile. “I was persistent. And yes, we’re going to flip for it, unless you want to give in?”
“Flip your coin.”
Sam did his best to appear serious. “This coin was a gift, and it has never steered me wrong. Heads, we see Sean shoot things. Tails, we listen to Sean as a dragon.” He flipped the coin and caught it in his palm.
Maya leaned in to see. He could feel the heat from her body and his heart raced at having her so close.
“Oh! Heads!” She looked up at him, victorious. “Sean shooting things it is!”
Sam narrowed his eyes at the coin. “This coin has never failed me...”
“Ha,” Maya laughed. “Until now.” She took a moment to gloat. “C’mon, or we’ll miss the beginning.”
Sam entered the theater behind Maya, unable to believe his luck at actually being on a date with her.
Maya, it turned out, whispered to herself at the movies. She became so completely entranced by the world on the screen that she was almost oblivious to the immediate world around her. She gasped in horror, whimpered in terror, dropped her mouth in outrage, and whispered, “No way! That is so wrong.”
Sam watched her as much as he watched the movie. He watched as the light from the screen darkened and he could just make out her profile. She sat erect in her chair in anticipation. He watched as gunfire made her jump and she dropped their popcorn on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she bent down to get the bucket. Her bag fell from her lap just as she reached for the bucket, knocking it over and causing it to roll away under the seat in front of her.
From the darkness came a few shushes.
“Oh, no.” She looked wide-eyed at Sam. “I should’ve mentioned that I’m a hazard at the movies.”
Sam’s body shook with suppressed laughter. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
“Are you laughing at me?”
Sam cleared his throat as silently as possible and held up his hands in surrender. “No. Of course not. You just seem so graceful in everything else...”
“It’s an act.” She twisted her mouth and shrugged. “I’m actually clumsy—all the time. That’s the dirty truth of it.”
A few more shushes. Maya widened her eyes and put her index finger to her lips to shush Sam, who wasn’t even speaking. “The movie.” She winked at him and returned her attention to the screen.
Sam sat back in his chair. He spent the rest of the movie watching Maya. She was beautiful and clumsy and her smile was sudden and unexpected. She twisted her hair absently as she concentrated on the screen, shifting forward and then leaning back in her seat from time to time. Sam smiled to himself. She could not sit still.
Every so often, she would turn toward him and catch his eye. In those moments, Sam should have flushed with embarrassment at being caught staring at her, but she would flash her eyes or grin and all thought of trying to be cool and smooth left him, and he was bared open to her.
“That was amazing!” Maya laughed as they exited the theater. She bumped his shoulder. “You have to admit it was fantastic.”
Sam opened his mouth to protest, but found she was right. He laughed with her. “Yes, it was fantastic.” He looked at her sideways. “I told you that coin never fails me.”
“Next time, we’ll see your fantasy flick,” she said. “I actually enjoy dragons and swords and honor.”
His heart flipped. Did she say next time? Sam turned to catch her eye. His next words were just loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Next time, then.”
He tried to hold her gaze, but Maya flushed and looked away. “I thought you said something about great places to eat in Columbia? Didn’t you mention a place with excellent tacos?” She shrugged. “Let’s do that.”
Sam pulled out his coin. “Heads, we have tacos, tails, we do pizza.”
Again, Maya was forced to move closer to Sam to see the result. Her long dark hair fell in waves and smelled of summer. A soft, rebellious piece brushed Sam’s hand as she bent down closer to see the coin in the dark. She tucked the flyaway strand behind her ear and looked up at him, victorious once more. “Heads again! Tacos it is. Are you sure this coin never steers you wrong?”
Her face was close enough to his that he could feel her breath. He couldn’t help the crooked grin that took over his face, as he looked her in the eye. “I’m sure.”
Maya cleared her throat and took a step back from Sam. She fidgeted with her bag. “Well, let’s go then.”
The place w
as a hole-in-the-wall reputed to have authentic food. The best chorizo taco ever, in Sam’s opinion. “So, I forgot to mention that there isn’t a place to sit,” he said, as they walked out of the restaurant. “I know exactly where to go.” He tried to look mysterious. Didn’t girls like mysterious men?
Ten minutes later, he pulled into a lot facing a lake. “Lake Kittamaqundi.” He beamed at her with a glint in his eye. “Don’t move.”
He got out of the car and walked around to her side. She followed his movements and he thrilled to know she was watching him. He opened her door.
“Thanks again,” she said. “You know, it’s not every guy who would open a car door for a girl, when she’s perfectly capable of opening it for herself.”
“What have I been trying to tell you?” Sam stepped back to open the hatchback. The spicy aroma of salsa greeted them. “I’m not every guy.” He picked up the food and a couple blankets. “And it’s not about whether a girl is capable of opening the door herself.”
Maya peeked into the back of the car. “A first aid kit, jumper cables, a couple jugs of water and an umbrella.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she teased him. “It’s almost like you’re a Boy Scout.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not almost. I actually am an Eagle Scout.”
She smiled wide, clearly impressed. Hmm. Impressing Maya Rao was a heady feeling. He’d have to try to keep doing that. She took the blankets and indicated that he lead the way. “So what’s it about then?”
“What’s what about?”
“If it’s not about whether the girl can open the door herself?”
“It’s about respect.” Sam stopped at the place he’d planned, waiting for Maya’s approving nod. When he got it, he helped her put down the blankets. “And honor.” He took out the fragrant disposable boxes of chorizo tacos, beans and rice, while Maya arranged all the smaller sauce containers in a logical and organized fashion. It was his turn to be impressed. But everything about her was impressive.