If Today Be Sweet (24 page)

“Just when—when the police were taking them away. I remembered. And I wanted to give them something because they looked
so scared.” Tehmina felt all eyes upon her and squirmed inwardly. She wished someone would change the topic and take the focus off of her.

As if she had detected her discomfort, Heather said, “Okay, Joe, call off the third degree.” She turned to Tehmina with a smile. “I apologize for my husband's bad manners. His curiosity is worse than a two-year-old's.”

“Yes, but that's what's made Joe such a success,” Sorab said. And even to Tehmina's biased, affectionate ear, her son's words sounded a little too fawning and obvious.

But Joe didn't seem to have noticed. “Well, Tammy, you've sure seen all sides of our beautiful country—the good and the bad. So, can I ask? What's your favorite thing about America?”

“Making rainbows,” she said immediately.

Joe raised his left eyebrow. “Making rainbows? What's that?”

“You know how, in the summer when you're watering the outdoor plants with the water hose, you can sometimes create rainbows? I love that. You see, in Bombay we all live in apartment buildings and none of us have lawns and water hoses or anything like that. So we never get to make our own rainbows. We just have to wait until Mother Nature decides to bless us with one.”

Joe Canfield let out his breath. “Boy, what a powerful metaphor that is. Sort of sums up America, doesn't it?” He turned to Sorab and spoke in the tone of a little schoolboy. “Can I borrow your mother for a few years? Please?”

“Take a number.” Sorab grinned happily. “There's a long list of people ahead of you.”

Tehmina blushed, and as if they were all aware of her embarrassment, everybody laughed. Then the doorbell rang and they looked at Joe, curious. Joe rose from the couch. “Oh, Sorab, I forgot to mention it,” he said casually as he went to answer the door. “I invited Grace and her boyfriend Bryan, also.”

Sorab's face turned white. The smile faded from his lips and he struggled to find it again. “Oh, sure,” he murmured. Tehmina felt her insides drop and her earlier good feeling about Joe suddenly turned sour. Why had Joe not mentioned that he had invited Sorab's boss to the party? Dirty pool, she said to herself.

There was a flurry of activity at the front door and then they were in the living room, Joe carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers which Grace had obviously presented him with. Thinking about the bottle of wine and the embroidered tablecloth from India that they had presented to their host earlier this evening, Tehmina felt small and cheap. They should've brought flowers also.

Heather gave her guests a quick peck on the cheek and then hurried in to find a vase for the flowers.

Grace Butler was tall, slim, blond, and Tehmina disliked her immediately. Her boyfriend was also tall, slim, and blond, but he had a nice face and Tehmina felt a twinge of sympathy for him. Still, she forced her face into a smile as Grace came up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Oh my, it's the heroine of Rosemont Heights,” the younger woman said. “Wow, you look quite different than the picture in the paper,” her sharp eyes taking in the sari and the glittering diamonds. “Why, that's quite an adventure you had, eh? Isn't it supersize depressing, though, about those poor boys? What awfulistic luck, having a mom like that.”

Was this woman speaking another language, some hybrid form of English she wasn't familiar with? “Nice to meet you, Grace,” Tehmina said quietly.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Absolutely fantabulous to meet a genuine hero.”

“Hello, Grace.” Even across the room Tehmina heard the starch in her son's voice. “I thought you were out skiing this week.” Sorab was standing up looking as stiff as Al Gore. Relax, beta, she said to
herself. You are worth ten times this shallow woman. Don't let her scare you.

“Oh, hi, Sorab. And hey, Susan. Good to see you again. How's your son? Custard, is it?”

“Cookie,” Susan said quietly. “But that's just his nickname. His real name is Cavas.”

“That's right,” Grace said gaily. “I knew it was some kind of dessert.” She turned around and took her boyfriend's hand. “Oh, and this is Bryan. Bryan, this is Sorab and his wife, Susan. Sorab works for me.”

“Works
with
me,” Joe said lightly, wagging his finger at Grace. “At Canfield, we all work together.”

“Whatever,” Grace said. She rolled her eyes. “Joe's a millionaire, but I swear he's a socialist or something,” she said to Bryan.

“Not a socialist. Just a democrat.”

Was it her imagination or did Joe have a bite in his voice? Tehmina wondered. She had a quick insight: Joe didn't like Grace Butler very much.

“Would you like some wine, Grace? Bryan? Red or white?”

“What kind of reds do you have?” Grace asked.

“Oh, God, I don't know. Probably some Merlot and some Cabernet. A Pinot Noir, maybe.”

“Merlot?” Grace screeched. “Good God, Joe. Didn't you see
Sideways
? Nobody drinks Merlot anymore. It's so…so…”

“I do,” said Heather, entering the room. “I like it.” She shrugged. “Sorry. Guess I'm just a country bumpkin.”

There was a second's pause and then Grace recovered her stride. “Well. I tell you what, Joe. How about some of that Pinot Noir for me? And Bryan'll take that, too, won't you, darling? What vintage is it?”

“Vintage?” Now Joe was openly laughing. “I haven't the foggiest idea. We buy our wines at Trader Joe's.”

Grace seemed nonplussed. But only for a moment. “Oh, Joe, you have to let me introduce you to this stupendous wineshop in our neighborhood. They have wine tastings the first Friday of each month.” She turned to Bryan. “Darling, let's invite Joe and Heather to the next one, shall we? And then we can go to that new sushi place for dinner.”

“I hate sushi,” Heather said. And this time, Tehmina definitely heard something in her voice. She doesn't like Grace, she realized. She caught Joe throw his wife a warning glance.

Before Grace could respond, Sorab sailed to her rescue. “So how was the ski trip?”

“The ski trip? Oh, God, what a depressoid bust. It turned out we didn't have reservations at the place we thought we did. Bryan fucked up royally, didn't you, darling? And I refused to go to any other place. I mean, this place we were gonna go to was extraordinarily brilliant—a hot tub in the room, in-room massages. Just fantabulous. So, anyway, we've just been hanging out at home, you know, taking day trips, that kind of thing.”

Before she could help herself, the words were out of Tehmina's mouth. “Oh, so then Sorab could've had the week off. He couldn't take it because you were out of town, I thought.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her son casting an appalled look her way.

“That was no big deal,” Sorab began, but Heather interrupted him.

“What isn't a big deal?”

Grace's lips tightened. “Oh, just some internal office stuff,” she said sharply.

“Well, if it's office stuff, then I guess it's my business.” Joe's tone was light, but there was no mistaking the seriousness with which he spoke. “What happened?”

Grace sighed. “Well, Sorab and I had a misunderstanding. He
thought he was taking the week after Christmas off, but Bryan and I had already planned the ski trip. So I…we agreed that I would take some time off for some much-needed R and R.”

Joe frowned. “You hadn't put in for the week off?” he said to Sorab.

Sorab blushed. He stared at the tips of his shoes. He looks like a schoolboy unwilling to tell on his friend, Tehmina thought, her heart warming at the sight of her son. “I did,” he said finally. “I had.”

“At the beginning of the year, like we always do?” Joe was dogged. Tehmina suddenly saw why he had been so successful in his business. Even though Joe was no longer involved in the day-today running of the company, his attachment to the agency he had founded over twenty-five years ago was obvious.

“Yup,” Sorab said.

Joe turned to Grace. “But that's our company policy. People put in for their vacations at the start of the year.”

“Well, Joe, that may be a model that's worked in the past, but the business world is changing so fast. We all have to change with the times, ready to be flexible and ready to—”

“Grace,” Joe interrupted softly. “In case you haven't noticed—that old model has worked quite well for me.”

Grace's jaw went slack. “I wasn't trying to…” She fell silent.

The room fell so quiet Tehmina could hear the pounding of the waves again. Susan spoke up to fill the void. “So, Bryan,” she said brightly. “What do you do for a living?”

Bryan jumped at the mention of his name. Tehmina had a feeling that when he was with Grace Butler, Bryan was not used to people paying him any attention. “Ah, I'm a massage therapist?” he said, as if he was asking permission rather than stating a fact. “And I'm also a personal trainer, on the side?”

“Oh, that's good to know,” Sorab said, patting his belly. “I'm so bloody out of shape, I got to do something about this body.”

“Bullshit,” Joe said immediately. “You beat the crap out of me at racquetball the other day. Of course, you're a great deal younger than I am, but still…”

“You played racquetball together?” Grace asked, looking from one man to the other. “When was this? I guess—I didn't realize you were friends.”

Joe looked directly into Grace's green eyes. “Oh, Sorab and I go back a ways,” he said. Tehmina saw her son's head jerk up at the obvious lie. But looking around the room, she noticed that both Susan and Heather had the same expressions on their faces—they were smiling small, secretive smiles, as if they were enjoying Grace's discomfort.

Bryan cleared his throat. “Er—just give me a call if you ever need a trainer,” he said, as if the last exchange had not occurred. He fished into his pocket for his wallet. “Here's my card,” he said, leaning forward to hand it to Sorab.

Sorab glanced at it and then pocketed it. “Thanks. I may call you sooner than you think.”

“Well, is everybody hungry?” Heather said, rising to her feet. “Why don't you all give me a few minutes to put the food out and then come into the dining room?”

Tehmina rose automatically. “May I help you?” she said.

Heather looked as if she was about to refuse, but then she smiled. “Sure,” she said, putting her arm around Tehmina as if they'd been friends for years. “The kitchen is this way.”

“No couples sitting next to each other,” Heather said as they trooped into the dining room a few minutes later. “That's the only rule. Other than that, grab a seat wherever you like.” She pulled Tehmina into the seat beside her.

The menu was coriander-crusted grilled salmon, baked chicken
with pecan crust, couscous with dried apricots and parsley, a pasta dish with basil and fresh mozzarella cheese, and homemade bread. “Heather,” Susan gasped. “You must've spent the last two days locked in the kitchen.”

“Oh God, no. All these are easy dishes, believe me.”

“Well, I
must
have the recipes for the salmon and the chicken. Are you someone who is okay with sharing recipes?”

“Of course. I've never understood women who guard their recipes as if they are state secrets. And these days, with the Internet and everything, it seems even more ridiculous.”

“Do you like Indian food?” Tehmina asked.

“We
love
Indian food,” Heather said. “Joe, tell them your story about your year in England.”

“Well, this was after I got done with grad school. I decided to spend a year abroad. So I spend about four months in England, Scotland, and Wales—you know, tracing my family's heritage, that sort of thing. Just hitchhiking to different places. And I loved every minute of it except for the god-awful food. If I'd had to eat their goddamn black pudding or bangers and mash one more time, I swear I would've died. So anyway, I finally get to London. And I stumble upon this tiny curry joint. And with each bite I feel some part of my soul being restored. I ate at the same goddamn place for the rest of my time in London. The owner—his name was Gautam Patel, I still remember—would save me a spot every single evening. By the end of my time there, I had curry seeping out of my pores instead of sweat.”

“Well, our Parsi food is a little different than what you get at Indian restaurants here, but if you like—I would love to cook for you sometime before I go back.”

“Go back?” Heather leaned over and put her arm around Tehmina and gave her a tight squeeze. “You're not going anywhere, I hope?”

Tehmina felt Susan's and Sorab's eyes on her. What on earth had made her say she was going back? She herself didn't know whether she was or wasn't. Did she? “I…I just meant…in any case, we would love to have you over for a home-cooked Parsi meal. And you, too,” she said to Grace, although her stomach dropped at the thought of having this woman and her handsome-but-dumb-as-a-cardboard-box boyfriend in their home.

“Oh, thanks, but I can't do any kind of ethnic food. I have such a dread-appalling stomach, it's loathsomely wicked.”

“Dread-appalling?” Joe laughed. “Grace, where did you learn to speak English?”

Grace laughed back. “Oh, I just get so tired with our language. Imagine, using the same words they used in Shakespeare's time. That's so…so…”

“Sixteenth century?” Sorab said.

“Exactly.” Grace had completely missed the irony in Sorab's voice.

The others, all except for Bryan, smiled to themselves. “Well, it seems to have worked for Shakespeare,” Tehmina heard Joe say almost to himself.

“Oh, Mrs. Sethna,” Grace said, turning her green eyes toward her. “I meant to ask. How are those two little boys doing?”