Love by Surprise

by Shilpa Mudiganti

  After that, I endured two very long days of non-stop Christmas movies and carols at home as Anshi attempted to get back into “the zone.”

  “Family,” Anshi said, snapping her fingers. I stopped chewing and waited to see if more words and ideas followed. If they did, she would probably talk herself out of them like she always did.

  “Everyone will be designing with that theme.” She sighed mournfully and slumped back on the couch, hugging her knees. Her attention was back on the TV.

  She wore a pale pink spaghetti-strap top and black pajama pants that made her five-foot, three-inches look shorter. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and she looked casual and totally comfortable where she was. She no longer skittered around the house like she did at the beginning of her move. Instead, she had settled in, and claimed her corner next to the glass wall overlooking the skyline. And if she wasn’t working in her corner,she was on the barely-used couch watching TV.

  I had given her permission to work from home for two weeks so she could focus on her contest once she finished her office work. On many nights, I came home to find her snuggled in with a blanket on the couch. I could never get used to the feeling of having her there waiting for me.

  She thumped her head on the couch again and pouted.

  “I am never going to get done before the deadline,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

  “Not if you watch Elf for a millionth time,” I said. There was no fire in the dirty look she threw my way.

  “I am trying to get my mu-.” I rushed to put a hand on her mouth.

  “Shh..shh...don’t say that word please. I can’t take it anymore.” She raised her hands in surrender.

  “Ok,” she mumbled. I settled back on the couch opposite to her.

  “What’s your real problem with Christmas?” I asked

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean maybe you are overthinking this.”

  She rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Winning this contest could be everything my small business needs. Of course I am overthinking,” she retorted.

  “True. True.” I glanced at her when she plopped sideways on to the couch, her hair making a puffy mountain on her head. At this rate, she would be reduced to a puddle by the end of the night. “What is your favorite Christmas memory?”

  She sat up straight, her attention renewed. “What?”

  “Your favorite Christmas memory.” An adorable V formed between her eyes as she made a journey back in her memory. Her face relaxed, and her lips turned up in a soft smile.

  “Watching Elf with my mom.” Her mom. Who she had lost when she was just eleven years old. A sad expression spread across her face. She turned to the twinkling skyline, her favorite sight from this room. Her eyes were on the view but in her mind, she was eleven years old.

  “We would snuggle and watch with the whole family,” she said. Even Dad would join us. He never missed Christmas when Mom was around.” Her eyes shone with a sadness that I wished I could take away.

  I moved closer, taking her hand in mine. She looked at our intertwined hands and smiled a little.

  “It’s a memory to treasure,” I said softly. She nodded.

  “I felt loved and overwhelmingly...hopeful,” she said, finally looking up. “I feel hopeful with you.” I stilled a moment, letting her words sink in. Her eyes locked with mine, a thousand unspoken words pulling me closer to her. I leaned in, her sweet scent a grip on my senses, urging to taste her skin on my lips. One inch closer and I could kiss her.

  The loud blare of my phone shattered the silence in the room. I jerked back, my heart thudding. I let out a heavy breath, giving her an apologetic look. She looked away blushing, eying the phone on the wooden ottoman as if it was her savior.

  I snatched up the phone to see who had such impeccable timing to find Arav’s name flashing on the screen. Of course.

  “What’s up, man?” I watched as Anshi stood up to look up my Blu-ray collection.

  “Are you home?” It was seven in the afternoon. Where else would I be?

  “Depends...why do you ask?”

  Arav chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Man, you better be. Nisha is on her way here to meet me and then she will be stomping her way to your place to rescue her sister from you.” I stood abruptly, knocking over the ottoman with my foot. I winced, hopping on one foot while clutching the phone.

  “Nisha knows? How? What do you mean rescue?” Anshi looked alarmed the moment I uttered Nisha’s name.

  “Long story. I wanted to give you a headsup because I love your stupid face. We will be there in fifteen.”

  I hung up, shocked. Anshi had a manic look in her eyes, which was more comical than scary.

  “Sara,” she said, thumping her forehead. “Gossip-mongering sisters!” She rushed to her room muttering furiously. In a minute, she came out wearing a hoodie over her top. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders as she untied it and combed her fingers through it. “Go put on some decent clothes,” she hissed. “She is going to throw a fit.”

  She rushed to clean up the couch and then speed-walked to the kitchen island to scrub an already-clean surface.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, curiosity finally winning over.

  “Making it look decent. Why are you still standing here? Go change!” She huffed and kept scrubbing.

  “We look decent. We both have clothes on, see?” I said, pointing to her clothes, then mine. She rolled her eyes.

  “You don’t understand! I live here. She probably thinks...oh, this is bad,” she shook her head, panic overtaking her sweet nature. “Don’t judge me,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at me.

  She froze when the doorbell rang. I nodded and walked to the door gallantly. Looking back once at her, I breathed out and opened the door with a smile.

  “Nisha!” I wasn’t sure why I yelled the name. Nisha stood on the other side of the door, beautiful as always, and dressed like the CEO that she was. She looked at me from head to toe, her brow raising as she noticed my shorts. I really should have changed when Anshi told me to. “What a surprise!” I said. “Where’s Arav?”

  “He’s looking for a parking spot” She pushed past me. “And speaking of surprises, you two have some impressive ones.” She walked over and stood in front of Anshi, arms crossed.

  “Nisha...my dear, younger sister” Anshi rushed to her from behind the island with open arms, only to have Nisha step back.

  “Don’t you remind me I am the younger sister. Why didn’t you call me when you left? You’re living with Ryan? Are you...and…,” she whisper-yelled pointing an accusing finger at me. Anshi shook her head so fast I thought it would fall off. I had to admit, I was disappointed. She could have at least pretended to be confused about the question for my sake.

  “You were on your honeymoon. A well-deserved break. And Ryan…,” Anshi looked at me, then said, “he was a life-saver, Nisha! If it weren’t for him, I can’t even imagine…,” she paused for dramatic effect after making the whole situation sound worse than it was. Nisha's eyes went wide, probably imagining the horror of Anshi being homeless. Even I shuddered a bit imagining what would have happened if Anshi hadn’t called me that night.

  Nisha finally rushed to hug Ashi. The sisters cried it out for a few moments while I waited at the door awkwardly.

  “Oh hey, the fight’s over?” Arav walked through the door, as if he owned the place. “Woah...what is this?” He looked at the walls in astonishment. My heart sank. Anshi looked all around the apartment, then glanced at him, confused.

  “What is what?” I asked.

  “Since when do you do colors?” Arav said, hands on hip.

  “Don’t know what you are talking about, dude.” I hoped he would get the message and drop it.

  “Nisha, do you see this? Ryan has painted his walls. The guy whose color vocabulary only included the word white has orange and…,” he walked to the wall behind the TV, rubbing it slightly, “grunge-blue walls.”

  “Ryan doesn’t lik
e color?” Anshi asked, her full attention on Arav. He turned to me, smirking. Anshi turned to me as well, realization dawning in her face. I ran my hand through my hair and turned away to close the door.

  “I have found new appreciation for color,” I said, signaling wordlessly to Arav to drop it and walked to Nisha. I ignored the snicker from Arav and focused on Nisha. “And what do we have here?” I took the bag dangling from her arm and fished a bottle of wine out. Anshi was still staring at me but I studiously avoided her. I brought out two wine glasses and poured the scarlet liquid. I handed the glasses to Nisha and Arav, the happily married couple.

  “No glass for you?” Arav asked.

  “Don’t feel like drinking right now. Heavy dinner,” I rubbed my stomach. Arav’s eyes almost bugged out.

  “Are you okay?” he said, stepping closer to me. I flicked his hand away when he tried touching my forehead. Smirking like the devil that he is, he sauntered over to where Nisha was standing and gave Anshi a quick hug.

  “What did you do to my best friend?” Anshi seemed lost for words.

  “He is right there, exchanging flirty looks with my sister,” Nisha said, finally smiling.

  “We are not flirting!” Anshi squealed, and I silently cursed.

  “Whatever...we have so much to catch up on,” said Nisha. “Come.” She grabbed Anshi’s hand and started walking. She stopped abruptly and turned to Anshi again, “where’s your room?” Anshi pointed to her right and Nisha marched again in that direction. Anshi looked back at me, the dip between her eyes still there. I was very aware of Arav looking between me and her, silently sipping his wine. And just like that, Anshi broke her gaze and followed Nisha to her room.

  I let out a tired breath and turned to Arav to find him smirking. There was a promise of torture in his eyes. He clearly intended to painfully weasel the story out of me. This was not the night I planned for.

  20

  Anshi

  My finger hovered over the button to submit the design. My hand shook. I scrolled up again to check through the form. Ryan tsked at me and held my wrist to stop me from scrolling.

  “Every detail has been checked. Twice. By both of us.” When I opened my mouth to argue, he said, “and yes, you have uploaded the right file.” His gaze was stern but a corner of his lips lifted in amusement. I took a deep breath.

  “Okay. Here goes nothing.” It was jarring that there was no sound to accompany the submission of my design to the contest. I half-expected a loud crash announcing my doom. But nothing of that sort happened and I felt oddly empty.

  “Let’s celebrate,” Ryan said enthusiastically, bouncing off my bed. Somewhere between late- night coffees designing and early morning rushes to work, we had crossed boundaries that were important to me before, but not anymore. Like, me working on my design on the bed while Ryan sat next to me typing away on his laptop.

  “Don’t jinx it!”

  Ryan returned with two bowls of our favorite nutty coconut ice cream from a local ice cream store. He raised his bowl and indicated for me to raise mine.

  “To dreamers,” he said, clinking my bowl.

  “To dreamers and their muses,” I said, knowing fully well he will cringe at the mere mention of that word. Explaining how important a muse is for art was a lesson akin to a root canal for him. His smart brain that loved the clean-cut truth of numbers couldn’t grasp the importance of muses.

  He was still in black dress slacks and formal white work shirt, but his tie was off, exposing a sliver of skin at his neck. Barefoot, with outstretched legs, he leaned back on the pillows with a lazy grin. He was everything that I was not. Handsome, confident, successful, rich, smart. He hated colors. I loved them. And yet, he let me color his home. I didn’t mull over it much. Even though Nisha never forgot to mention it every time she called.

  After Nisha and I retreated to our room that evening she and Arav showed up, she had patiently listened to my side of the story and never once uttered a word of judgement. She softened her stance toward Ryan after that, though she still asked me to look out for his beautiful friends coming over for a nightcap. That had not happened in the two weeks I was there.

  I look at him now sprawled on my bed, looking scandalously handsome. It was no surprise at all that he could get women whenever he desired.

  “I like it when you look at me like that,” he said, smirking.

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m your dessert.” He dodged the pillow I threw at him.

  “How you manage to get dates with those cheesy one-liners is beyond me,” I chuckled.

  He grinned, and brushed away his beautiful, thick locks of hair falling on his forehead. “They always worked like a charm.” He pushed the pillows on his back and sat up straighter. “But I am trying to figure out what works on you”

  I crossed my legs and rested my hands on the pillow in my lap.

  “Let me know when you do.”

  “Oh you will know,” he smirked again. I wish I could wipe off that smirk off his face with an apt response but honestly, I didn’t want to. It felt good this way - the teasing, the comfortable banter, and just the company. It made me forget my past. That I was alone for a long time.

  The phone buzz startled me. I scrambled off the bed to pick it up. The name on the screen surprised me. I stared at my phone long enough for the call to stop.

  “Who was it?” Ryan asked, a flicker of tension in his words.

  “My dad.” He got off the bed and stood with me.

  “Find me in the kitchen once you are done. Okay?” He pulled me closer, his lips leaving a tender kiss on my forehead. He made sure I understood he was there for me. I nodded and turned away as soon as he left. I clutched the phone for dear life. My father never called me unless there was very bad news.

  Heart thundering in my chest, I unlock my phone with shaky hands. It was irrational of me to be so afraid to call my father. I knew that, and yet a part of me had been pining for his approval for so long that every conversation was an effort in not breaking down and begging him for it.

  I froze at the realization. Never before had I been able to pull myself back enough to see it this way. I had berated myself at every turn, at every mistake that I was never doing enough to meet his expectations. But these past few days, I had felt free of that burden. I had walked out and was trying to build a life that would meet my hopes, not his.

  I turned to the now-closed door behind me and imagined Ryan in the kitchen, making us dinner. He was the one who made me see things in a new way. Yes, I walked away and grew a pair of wings, but Ryan had turned out to be the wind behind my wings.

  My feet picked up their own path as I hurried to the door, pulling it open. Ryan turned toward me, surprised at the noise. I rushed forward, crashing into him and throwing my arms around his neck. He stumbled back a step, hitting the counter behind him before his hands locked around my waist. I reveled in his touch, the way his strong arms held me in his embrace.

  “Now which of my cheesy one-liners worked their charm?” he asked.

  I shook with laughter, hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

  “Every single one of them,” I muttered. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he said You’re in for a lot more of those one-liners for a long time to come,” he said. I could feel his smile in my hair, and in the way his voice sounded.

  I grinned, and finally untangled myself from him. His hands never left my waist, and we stood gazing at each other. He had that brilliant smile that only ever came out when he was with me.

  I felt special.

  21

  Ryan

  I slipped into my suit jacket and straightened my sleeves. The sky outside was still blue, summer finally setting in. I loved that because it meant I could have a glass of diet coke with Anshi on the terrace and talk into the sunset. I was ready to go home.

  Home. Until a few weeks ago, it was just a penthouse. Now, with Anshi with me, it felt like home. I smiled as the
phone buzzed again with a text.

  When are you getting here?

  Today, we would find out if Anshi’s design made it to the final twenty. I was pretty sure it would. The message was spot-on. It was a message of hope. She used a simple graphic of milk and cookies set on the floor in warm Christmas colors. A single word graced the graphic in a festive font. “Hope”. Hope that Santa will visit. That good things happen to good people.

  Anshi declared that I was her muse and the theme perfectly captured what she felt whenever she saw me. That was crap. If anyone felt hope, it was me.

  For a long time, I floated from one day to another without much thought of the future. Until I saw Arav, my best friend fall in love. At first, I thought he was turning into some kind of wimp. Either giddy with a goofy smile because Nisha called him, or depressed that he didn’t get so much as a text from her. It was ridiculous. But I noticed the other changes which were easy to miss at first. He was kinder, more thoughtful and just a better man.

  Even then, I didn’t think settling down was for me until I met Anshi. No woman had stolen my breath away the way she did. The moment my eyes fell on her, I knew she was different. What I didn’t realize at that time was that she would change my life.I was livid when Arav gave his company to Nisha but now....now I got it. It all made perfect sense.

  On my way back.

  I responded to Anshi’s text and slipped the phone in my pocket.

  The first time I met her, the spark in her eyes were elusive, but I could sense the storm brewing inside. I wanted to unleash the real her into the world. Today, she might just be on the threshold of that much-needed success.

  She was as obsessed about proving her father wrong as I was with getting her to take me seriously. I didn’t particularly like that every decision she made was directed by proving something to her dad, but I couldn’t blame her. Losing one parent to an untimely death was hard enough. Watching the other one ignore you when you needed him the most must have been disastrous. Anshi threw herself into the arms of the devil again and again. But she had turned a corner.