“For three hours—for both of them.”
Leaving the food on the table, the whānau room otherwise empty, Raj led her into the room where his father lay recovering. The older man had been given a single room to himself, which would’ve told Nayna the severity of the surgery even if she hadn’t known the details. All the wires and tubes hooked up to him further underlined the seriousness of the heart attack and the emergency surgery that had followed.
Jitesh Sen’s previously healthy brown skin was pallid, his breath shallow and ragged at times. But he smiled when he saw Nayna and patted at his bed. She went around to that side and put her hand in his.
He curled his fingers weakly around hers. “Beta, I’ve been waiting to see you.”
“I didn’t want to intrude,” Nayna began.
“Intrude, schrimtrude,” the older man said. “You’re family. Isn’t she, Sangeeta?”
Raj’s mother smiled and nodded while Aditi said a cheerful “Yep.” Both mother and daughter were seated in visitor chairs by the bed, though Aditi had somehow managed to create the full teenage-sprawl in hers.
“I have something to say.” Raj’s father looked at Nayna, then Raj. “I know you young people have your modern ways, but I’m an old man and I might not have a lot of time left.”
“Don’t say it, Papa,” Aditi cried out, straightening in an alarm of arms and legs.
“The doctors are confident you’ll make a full recovery,” Raj added, touching a hand to his father’s shoulder. “There’s no need to worry.”
The older man nodded but said, “Maybe, maybe. Or maybe I have only five years. Or maybe I have only one year. We don’t know—I could get hit by a car tomorrow.”
Raj’s mother was nodding, clearly knowing where this was going. Aditi had her head in her hands, her curls bouncing every which way as she shook her head in slow motion. Nayna meanwhile was starting to have a strange prickling on the back of her neck. Because she’d seen this scene before—in a hundred Bollywood movies. She just couldn’t believe it was happening to her.
She glanced up at Raj and saw that he was frowning. Her lover needed to watch more Bollywood movies. She’d make that a part of his education stat. But right now she could do nothing but listen as destiny careened toward her at the speed of light.
“What I’m saying,” Raj’s father continued after taking a sip of juice, “is that I know you two want to take your time before marriage, but I’d like to see my eldest son married and settled… Just in case.” He pressed his free hand to his heart, his fingers trembling. “We don’t know what the future will hold. Son, I want this happiness for you. And maybe, if we are very lucky, I’ll get to see my grandchild before…”
Raj’s eyes connected with hers, realization having dawned dark and heavy. “Dad,” he said, “we—”
“No.” Sangeeta Sen’s voice was firmer than Nayna had ever heard it. “There’s no problem in this, what your father’s asking. He still has to recover, so it won’t be a super rush like with Nayna’s sister’s wedding. You’ll have time to prepare, have a proper wedding, invite all your friends. Four months’ time, don’t you think?”
“The venues will all be booked out,” Aditi piped up, a small warrior fighting for Raj and Nayna, who were both shell-shocked. “Madhuri only got a spot because Dr. Patel knows someone.”
“Adi, meri rani, did you forget that your uncle owns an entire golf course and the club building?” Sangeeta Sen smiled at her daughter. “He will find us a date in that time. Four months.”
Raj’s father nodded, his hand weak when it squeezed Nayna’s hand. “I think I should be healthy enough by then.” A smile. “I look forward to dancing at your wedding, son.”
41
Aditi Speaks the Truth
Raj and Nayna stared at each other across the table in the waiting room.
“What the hell just happened?” Raj said, shoving his hands through his hair.
Nayna, her head yet ringing from the shock, opened up the bag of takeout and pushed over the burger with all the fixings that she’d gotten him. “Eat first. Your brain needs fuel.” He had to be starving by now, given the physical nature of his work and the fact he’d come straight from the site to the hospital.
Picking up the burger, Raj ate in silence. It didn’t take him long to demolish it. Nayna passed over sweet potato fries, then the chicken-bite things she’d picked up, along with a pot of coleslaw.
He was just finishing up when Aditi wandered into the room and dropped into a seat that put her to Nayna’s right and Raj’s left
“Okay,” she said after grabbing a burger for herself from the bag, “did you guys seriously just get told to get married in four months’ time or Dad will drop dead?”
Nayna almost choked on the water she’d been trying to drink.
But Aditi wasn’t done. “I mean, it’s a gold-medal guilt trip even by Indian-parent standards.”
“He’s probably just worried because he’s come out of surgery,” Raj said, sounding far calmer than he had at the start of the meal. “I’ll talk to him again after he’s healed a bit.”
Mouth full of burger, Aditi shook her head. After finally swallowing down the huge bite she’d taken, she said, “No, they’re serious. Ma’s in there talking to Uncle Dhiraj, and before that she was chatting on about caterers and even the type of cake. The wedding hammer, it’s a-fallin’.”
* * *
Raj’s eyes connected with Nayna’s.
“Um…” Aditi stopped chewing. “You want me to go? Because you guys are getting all intense.”
His heart squeezed when Nayna reached out and tugged on one of his sister’s curls. “No, stay. We can talk about how this has turned into a masala picture.”
Aditi’s dimple popped out, his sister smiling in truth for the first time since their father’s heart attack. “Oh. Em. Gee!” she said. “You’re right! This is so Bollywood drama! The part where the dying father asks a couple to get married so he can see the event?” She shook her head and stuffed a fry into her mouth, talking around it. “All we need now is for Raj to be in love with someone else but feel forced to marry you because he doesn’t want to break his father’s heart.”
Aditi’s head swiveled toward Raj. “Nope, that plot point won’t work—he’s clearly crazy over you.” Another fry inhaled. “The good thing is the father always survives in those and there’s a big happily-ever-after.”
Catching the hitch in his sister’s voice, Raj brushed a fist against her cheek. “I spoke to Dr. Olivier while I was waiting for Nayna. He says Dad has a great outlook—he doesn’t smoke, doesn’t have diabetes, does have huge family support. A little care and he’ll be around to create a Bollywood drama when it’s your turn to get married.”
“Babita auntie’s husband had a quadruple bypass ten years ago,” Nayna added. “He’s in excellent health. Just complains a lot about how he can only smell ghee and not eat it.”
Dimple flashing again, Aditi relaxed. “I can totally see Dad doing that. Especially since Ma’s started a notebook full of heart-healthy vegetarian recipes. He’s already trying to bribe me to smuggle him sausages.”
Raj chuckled at his sister’s words, glad to see her spirit returning. Aditi wasn’t the quiet type, so to see her go so silent and hollow-eyed had been heartbreaking. Now he watched as Nayna drew her into a cheerful conversation about their favorite Bollywood movies, with Aditi nodding eagerly when Nayna suggested a movie date for a sweeping historical epic set to release in a month.
“Are you gonna make Raj bhaiya come?” Aditi asked, cheeky as a monkey. “Last time he took me, he fell asleep during the most amazing dance number by Hrithik.”
“Sacrilege.” Nayna gasped, her hand on her heart. “We’ll just have to work on him until he sees the beauty of lip-syncing in the Swiss Alps in the middle of winter while wearing a sari.”