Madhu’s expression turned pensive. “And none of this has anything to do with Michelle?”
“We both want the same thing, for my book to take over the world and for people to love it. And me. I guess.”
The older woman didn’t say anything for a full minute as they prepped the food on the counter. Finally she said, “You know what I’ve always liked about you?”
“I have the best jokes about the short priest at temple?”
“That, too.” Madhu placed a hand on her hip. “You paved your own way. Slowly, but you did. Someone would ask you if you were on a diet and you’d say no without any explanation. I saw it at my house, at yours, at temple. You accepted you and they had to, also. Or at least they weren’t dumb enough to ask again. You asked Druv to the prom. You chose the major you wanted in college, even though your parents didn’t agree with it. Don’t doubt yourself now, when everything you want is right there.”
Madhu lifted her chin. “Long story short: Don’t stress. Not about this, at least. Worry that Druv will bald early. My uncle did, so it’s in his genes.”
Warmth spilled into Aditi at the encouraging words. “He’d be insufferable if I told him that.”
Madhu lowered her voice. “Save it for the ugly fights.”
Shaking her head, Aditi said, “Let me heat up the roti and dal.”
“I’ll chop the cabbage.”
Big booming laughter filtered in from the living room and almost drowned out the television. It wasn’t long before the kitchen smelled of ginger, fried bread, and the sharp hint of cilantro and spices.
After settling into the dining room once the food was ready, Aditi turned her attention to Jayan, who was unusually quiet. His brown eyes were sharp on her. She grabbed a plate and began to serve him.
“It was rude of me,” she said, “but I really didn’t get to talk to you in the living room. Are you still looking for an associate with investment banking experience?”
He shrugged. “We’ve whittled down the candidates to three. Did you have someone in mind?”
“Not personally but I’m sure Michelle knows someone, and I can poke her if you want. Her Rolodex rivals yours.”
“I met her at the wedding, right?”
Druv brushed his hand over his brow and gave a slight headshake. She frowned. “Yeah.”
“Do you remember Akil?” Jayan asked.
That took a left turn. She put his plate down in front of him and began to make Druv’s. “When did I meet him?”
“He was at your wedding, too.”
Druv and Aditi’s wedding was a three-day blur of every single living family member celebrating the nuptials. Some she knew and loved and others she thanked while avoiding sentences that would have required use of a name.
She stalled for more time by finishing Druv’s plate. Finally she sat down beside Madhu. “Well… Akil. Akil…”
Yellow flags were being thrown on this parental play. Why was Jayan asking her and not Druv? She stole a glance at her husband, who was intent on the plate in front of him.
“I have to say, I can’t recall. I’m so much better with faces than names.”
Druv lifted his gaze to her, “He works with Dad on the city council. Dad was telling me about him when you were in the kitchen.”
Ah. This again. Druv had gone into corporate law instead of criminal, which had displeased his father. Even constitutional law would be a better platform for Druv’s future political career, according to Jayan. Put bluntly, Druv didn’t want it. Their life would be under a microscope, and that meant a career of public service for the United States of America was a no-go.
Their marriage was open, wide open. She didn’t collect boyfriends, but her husband sometimes did. Though their own community was much more receptive to the idea of homosexuality than many, too much of America still believed homosexual and pedophile were interchangeable words.
And truth be told, even if the threat of a political spotlight wasn’t a worry, Druv hadn’t been ready to come out of the closet in his early twenties, no more than he’d wanted to as a teen when he first realized his sexual orientation. He wouldn’t just be a man with brown skin, but a gay man with brown skin.
She’d always known this, because of course, he’d confided in her. Back then, when they were teens, they had jokingly made a pact.
When thirteen had turned into eighteen then twenty-three, and their love lives remained the same, Druv and Aditi had believed a marriage to each other would cover all their needs and bases. Druv could remain in the closet. Aditi could stop being pressured by everyone to settle down.
For a time, their marriage had worked to distract his father from pushing Druv into politics. Now he trotted these ambitions out for special occasions.
Apparently, today was very special.
“How is Akil?” Aditi infused cheer into the question.
“He’s about to step down. Even leaving his criminal practice to retire.”
There was no good way out of this conversation. Aditi picked up the plate of freshly chopped vegetables and began to pile Jayan’s plate with more food. People couldn’t talk with full mouths. She even threw in another slice of rotli.
“I think I’m starting to remember him,” Aditi murmured. “Goatee? Lovely wife? The son was a musician. Was it country or classical music he played?”
Wrong person, Aditi knew, but like clockwork, that dragged both of Druv’s parents to talk about the country musician, Sahil. Druv winked at her and made sure to join in when the conversation started to wane. Laughter filled their home again as father, mother, and son bonded.
Because Druv’s and Aditi’s families were so close-knit, she couldn’t recall a time as an adolescent when she didn’t feel accepted, despite her occasional social anxiety. It wasn’t until college that she got blindsided with microaggressions, even from friends, about her home smelling of curry and incense. Or questioned about whether she believed in God or just Vishnu. Or dared to eat a burger just once, because what could it hurt? Those gut punches made her cling to the people in her life who didn’t need explanations about what ghee was, and didn’t ask if she really worshiped cows.
Aditi may have distracted her in-laws for the wrong reasons, but still, she sat back and did what she did best—people-watch, enjoying the moment. She liked to mine the emotions for her writing, where they would never die once they were on the page.
Eventually, the conversation wound down as they hit on the fact that Sahil’s parents had wasted money on their son’s college degree in finance.
“He had to follow his heart, he said to his mother,” of course Madhu said. “And what happened? He broke it. That’s what he did. Sahil threw it all away on country music. At least, Aditi, you are contributing to the household.”
That’s what she got for throwing someone under the bus. “I do what I can to help Druv.”
“You must be lonely, though,” Jayan threw in. “When Druv is working long hours.”
“Not really,” Aditi assured him, and took a piece of rotli for herself. “The quiet helps me concentrate on my own work.”
“Sure,” Madhu said, “but it can be lonely to sit in the house all day. My family kept me busy.”
“Are you suffering from empty nest syndrome?” Aditi tried to joke. This was not a conversation she ever wanted to have. Her work was real work, though it often felt like no one believed her.
“Sometimes,” Madhu seemed to hedge, “but I try not to twiddle my thumbs.”
Sitting in the house all day. Madhu was supportive as hell, but she still didn’t fully get the writing gig. And why did that assumption continue to dig into Aditi’s bones every time she heard it? Her refuge used to be Michelle—her second biggest cheerleader, right after Druv. Now that relationship had turned to demands of more blood, more sweat, more tears to prove herself. Who could she complain to? Taneesha, Christina, and Elli kind of understood, but to some extent, writing was still some mystical thing to them.
She
opened her mouth to defend herself.
“I’m just saying, you have a lot of free time,” Madhu pointed out.
“Free time?” Aditi whispered.
Jayan nodded in agreement. “I know you told us you’re very busy, but you can write anywhere, anytime.”
Madhu and Jayan’s marriage was one she looked to often for inspiration. Today, though, their united front was working against her.
Druv rubbed at his mouth. “Aditi works as many hours as I do. Sometimes more.”
Madhu’s tone softened. “Aditi, I only meant—”
“I know,” Aditi interrupted. “I promise I’m not just sitting around the house twiddling my thumbs. How about next week we go out. Just us. Well, us and my mom. We haven’t in a while.”
Madhu smiled, and that shifted the focus once again. But Aditi didn’t feel good about the promise. She’d have to take a day off or double up what she was currently doing. Anyone would think Druv insane if he took a day off before a court appearance. Yet people thought writers could drop things whenever. What else was she doing with all her time?
She closed her eyes and calculated how many hours until she could contact Cuddlebug. Reaching out to him wouldn’t change the pit in her stomach. Wouldn’t change a single deadline Michelle and Faraday kept shoving down her throat.
But she could fuck the stress right out of her system.
Aditi opened her eyes and managed to smile at her mother-in-law like a good wife.
ELLI
Elli unlocked her haven. Every spare surface was covered with costume materials. Most of her closet was filled with previously worn cosplay pieces. She had two mannequins for works-in-progress and, really, she needed a third. Her room was her world away from the real world. It always made her feel better and steadier. And the day had been long.
Carefully, she packed the items she’d need in a few days. She stuffed toiletries into a backup purse since her small suitcase was already full.
Ready to go but for the finishing touches on the staff she needed to make, Elli glanced around her place. Her mini-fridge was empty. The grumble in her stomach reminded her she hadn’t had lunch. She crept up the stairs to forage.
She opened the door, surprised to find her parents in the kitchen.
“Elli, didn’t hear you down…” Her mother sighed after taking in her expression. “You didn’t get the job, did you?”
Groceries covered the kitchen counter. That was why she hadn’t heard the garage door open. They’d parked on the street since it was closer to the kitchen door than the garage. Her father sat at the table with a cup of coffee. The disappointment was clear in every craggy line on his face.
“This time it wasn’t really my fault. He wanted someone more seasoned at selling mattresses.”
“Sit down, Elli.” Her father braced his hands around his coffee cup.
Elli slipped into the chair, knowing the drill. Her parents shared a look with each other. Her father wore a half-hearted smile.
Her mother, as always, went first. “Tell us what really happened.”
“I went to your friend’s place, the mattress store. He, uh, let me go at the end of the day.”
“I see,” her father said, the smile slipping from his face. “I don’t know how many more people we’ll burn if you keep doing this.”
Her mother patted his hand. “Why did he let you go?”
She could taste the disapproval from her mother and hated it. Unlike Leonard or really anyone else, she couldn’t imagine her parents as bosses in dungeons. They didn’t deal damage. They didn’t often stand in her way. They were more like healers. When she was growing up they’d been very protective, mostly because of the bullying at school she endured for years. They never fell out of the habit. She wasn’t sure if she wanted them to, either.
They were her greatest allies, and telling them about the encouraged napping or the paperwork being filled out wrong wouldn’t make them feel any better.
“I made a few mistakes. I think he wanted someone who could jump right in without too much training.” Which was true. Kind of. She doubted he would have fired her for that alone.
Ross and Esther both frowned at her. “Elli,” her mother breathed, “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.” Her parents shared another look and nodded. Her mother added, “We’ve decided we have to put our foot down, Elli.”
Her father continued, “We love having you here, but you need to do something. Bring in your own money. Consistently. What are you going to do when we’re gone?”
Elli blinked back tears that sprung to her eyes. “Don’t think like that.”
“But you need to,” her father insisted. “You need to find another job or you need to…” He swallowed.
“You need to find another place to live,” her mother continued. She seemed serious.
They’d had this kind of talk before. Things always calmed down after a day or two, but in the meantime, she would have to endure some lectures, some judgment, and of course a lot of sighing and head-shaking.
“What… what if I find a job at the conference? People are always impressed with my cosplay. I bet I can find something there. Think of it as a business trip.”
Her mother squeezed her father’s hand. “You’ve been to a lot of these events, and they’ve never helped you find a job before. Do you even have business contacts from any of these conferences you’ve gone to?”
“You know I met my some of my close friends at conventions like this one, and look at what they do. Michelle’s an editor. Taneesha is a coder for a big gaming business.”
Esther shook her head. “But have you ever asked them for a job or if they knew anyone who was hiring?”
She hadn’t. Their friendship didn’t work that way.
Her father said, “You go to these things a lot. You should have tons of contacts you can ask. Elli.” The way her father said her name forced her to sit still. “Get a job. Or… well, maybe you shouldn’t keep living in the basement.”
She blinked. That sounded surprisingly ominous, coming from her gentle father.
He didn’t mean it. They didn’t mean it.
Did they?
“Do you understand?” her father asked.
She found herself nodding. “Okay.”
She always found work when she wanted. This time would be no different. She ignored the little twinge of panic that shot through her.
Elli rose from the chair. “I’ll find a job. I promise.”
“We’re keeping you to it this time, Elli,” he reiterated. Her mother nodded somberly.
MICHELLE
Unable to sleep, Michelle rolled over in her bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. No new messages in Slack, but she logged in anyway to see if anyone was up this late. She needed to talk to someone, and not about work for once.
Michelle: Anyone up?
Taneesha: Just got in. What’s up?
Michelle: Calling.
Michelle didn’t wait to see a reply to that announcement, but Taneesha answered on the second ring.
“Damn. Were you calling me before I even replied?”
“Practically.” Without any preamble, she added, “I had sex with someone who is not my husband.” Michelle fell back on her pillows. They still smelled like Ted. His presence, even with all his things gone, continued to haunt her. And even though it had been a week and she’d showered constantly, she swore she could still pick up the scent of nicotine.
“Have you filed any paperwork yet?”
Michelle put a hand over her eyes. She sometimes forgot how traditional Taneesha could be. Gay, bi, trans, or straight, if you said I do, she expected everyone to honor those vows until the final divorce decree was filed. “Neesha.”
“Okay. Fine. I’ll try not to be judgmental for the next five minutes. I won’t promise six. Was it any good?”
“I don’t know.”
“Miche, how does one not know?”
“I think I’m still in shock at th
e demise of my marriage. He was a one-off that seemed interesting.”
“Was he big?”
She laughed. “Average.”
“Sounds to me like he didn’t rock your boat. Trust me, you’ll know it when it happens.” There was a very long pause, and she could tell Taneesha was trying to choose her words. “When was the last time you had good sex?”
“Bush administration,” she joked, but only a little. “Things were good between Ted and me. I thought we were just one of those married couples who had stopped jumping on each other simply because we were breathing. But last week, at this party I went to, he was there with a woman. He said she was just a friend, but I know he was lying.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry, Michelle.”
“Yeah. So I went and hopped into bed with someone else, but I kept thinking about Ted… I’m thinking about my husband who isn’t my husband anymore.”
“I can see how that could rain on one’s parade.”
“Queen of understatement.”
“So what now?”
Michelle rolled over until her face was buried in the pillow and fought the urge to scream into it. When the feeling passed, she propped herself up on her elbows and put the phone back to her ear. “I don’t know. All I can do right now is move forward. Focus on work. Find a hobby that isn’t guzzling wine when I’m home alone.”
Taneesha yawned, then chuckled. “Your liver will thank you, but honestly it sounds like you need to get out more. Leave work at work more often. Aren’t you going to Booklovers Con?”
“Yeah, but that’s work.”
“Find a way to squeeze in some off hours. I’m sure Aditi would love a mini-break from you breathing down her neck about something.”
“Hey.”
“I’m only speaking the truth.”
Michelle closed her eyes and tried not to think of the million and one rebuttals she had on hand, always. “I can do that. I’ll try to do that. I am going to do exactly that.”
“There ya go.”
Michelle could hear the smile in Taneesha’s voice. She found herself smiling too. “How are things on your end?”
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