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Authors: Romi Moondi

Year of the Chick (22 page)

BOOK: Year of the Chick
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I had no idea who she was but I returned the smile, since I of course was a part of this wider clan. The Indian tribe.

I walked around the yard a bit, listening to people rave about the food or each others’ clothes. Eventually I settled in a chair by a trickling fountain. The sound of the water in conjunction with the singing birds, the warming sun, and the smell of flowers was altogether overwhelming. I closed my eyes to soak it all in.

“Well hello there.”

My eyes quickly opened, and standing above me was Laura in a loose brown halter top, beaded coral necklace and washed-out jeans. She looked earthy, tanned, and...
the hell with Laura, what about this hottie with his arm around her waist?

He offered his hand and a smile. “Hi, you must be Romi. I’m Dave.”

I put down my glass and stood to shake his hand. I’d seen pictures of him, but the two-dimensional version didn’t do a thing for the original. He was muscular and tanned with a shaved head, perfect teeth, and the sort of cologne that made me feel like dropping these already low-rise jeans. He wasn’t that tall mind you, but the perfect height for my little Laura. Like a big brown bear hovering over Goldilocks.

Her perfect boyfriend...and I’m so damn jealous.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I like your shirt.”
Wow, what a loser thing to say.

“Yeah...thanks. Hey Laur, do you want another drink?”

“Thank you, I would love another drink. A vodka and---”

“Cranberry. Yeah, I remember.” He smiled at her and walked away.

Laura took a seat in the lounge chair next to mine. “So...what do you think?”

“Well I love that he calls you ‘Laur,’ and I’ll take him once you’re done. PLEASE?”

I laughed but it was hard to mask my own troubled yearning. I was feeling like the odd one out in this garden party of love.

Laura sighed. “I still don’t even know where he came from. How he randomly fell into my lap. I’d never even used a leg-press before! But I went for the machine, and so did he at the exact same second!”

“Well yay for leg-press machines!” I chugged back the glass of champagne, drowning my envy in the fizzling yellow bubbles.

“It just goes to show Romes, accidents do happen with a purpose. And that’s why they call it fate.” She smiled as I stared at my empty glass.

How inspiring, now where is Mr. Tuxedo and that tray of bubbly?

Dave returned carrying three fresh drinks in his colossal hands, including more champagne for me.
Well this guy keeps getting more and more perfect.

We ate and drank and talked and laughed. I was emotionally removed from the experience, but mesmerized by his dazzling smile. His moving mouth on that three-dimensional head which was only two feet away…it was a fascinating concept.

Out of nowhere my ears flooded over with Indian music.

“I guess the speakers are all hooked up now. Does that mean Adrian’s here?” I craned my neck and looked around, but all I could see was a yard packed with up to fifty people by now. Like Dave, Adrian was a total hottie in pictures. But would his in-person presence drive me insane as well? I was hoping so, as eye-candy was all I had going for me tonight.

With the sun now set, the patio was glowing with pretty lanterns, candles, and strings of twinkly lights. Many of the revelers were relaxing in lounge chairs, with the rest tightly huddled in their personal party cliques. I heard the beginnings of applause, and joined in the clapping as I figured out the reason.

It was the couple of the night, coming down the steps hand-in-hand.

Adrian was everything I could’ve expected and more. Incredible build, dark brown hair, six feet tall, bright blue eyes and a wicked tan. I wiped a tear from my eye, not because I was overwhelmed by the romance, but only because this was officially the party of beautiful men, with everyone getting a slice except for me. But I forced on my smile as required.

At least they have an open bar.

***

“Do you know how much I LOVE the sound of crickets? Well actually I love the sound of anything when it’s mixed with a trickling fountain.”

“You are such a freak Romes.” Jayla laughed but didn’t even open her eyes. It was nine thirty now, and most of us were sprawled out on various lounge chairs or even grass, with the speeches now over and our bellies full of food.

“Hey Jay, how come Indian music at YOUR house doesn’t sound annoying?” Far from annoying, I actually liked this slow-paced Hindi duet.

“You like it because you don’t have to like it. ‘Cause here you won’t be judged if you switch it to Madonna. You’d be surprised how much you like the Indian culture, when it’s not being shoved down your throat.”

“But you’re marrying a white guy. With a hot Australian accent by the way. Isn’t that the opposite of liking your culture?”

I opened my eyes as I heard her sit up fast.

“Here’s the thing,” she said, arms folded and eyes now intense. “When you’re far away from Indian culture, and instead just absorbing a totally different vibe - like I’ve been doing with my WHITE dude in Australia - you start to see where you come from a little better. You know...seeing the forest from the trees? Like I’ve been begging my mom to teach me how to cook all her Indian food. But I barely have the time to even learn it anymore!”

My eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Any time my mom tries to make me cook Indian food she starts off scolding. You know, how I’ll never be a good wife because I can’t make Indian food. Or she’ll complain that so many other Indian girls know how to cook, even though they’re younger than me. That’s how she BEGINS the lesson.” I sighed and rolled my eyes.

“That’s because you’re being judged on a single standard. Marry a well-off Indian guy, or fail. I can see how it might be a turn-off.”

“Which brings me to my only real question for you,” I said. “How are your parents smiling and laughing, when you’re about to marry a white guy, and spend the rest of your life living thousands of miles away?”

Riddle me THAT.

Jayla shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “Believe me, they weren’t smiling or laughing when I told them. In the end though, it was down to a couple of choices: accept me, or disown me.”

I smiled. “Wow, that’s my favourite ultimatum ever. Can I use that?”

“You mean….can you use it on your parents when you tell them about JAMES?” Jayla raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

How the hell does she know about James?

“Let’s just say that Laura and I had a little chat.” She winked and grabbed her glass of wine. “So is there anything else I should know about Mr. Caldwell, before I offer up my advice?”

One deep breath and a huge run-on sentence later, I gave her all the details I could think of, ending with my latest concern on his visit or no-visit plans.

“Okay, I’m ready to weigh in.” She took a sip of wine and leaned in close, so our faces were inches apart. “I went to Thailand with no expectations. Then I met Adrian, and we spent two incredible weeks together. Afterwards we went our separate ways, not expecting much to be honest.” She set down her glass and grabbed both my arms. “It should’ve been over, but the e-mails and phone calls began. That had to mean something, right?
 
I was always honest about how I felt, and willing to put in the effort. I’m not sure we’d have made it if my pride had gotten in the way. Do you see what I’m saying?”

I stared at her blankly. “Dude, I’m drunk. You have to give me the dumb-girl version.”

She released one arm and patted me on the shoulder. “What I’m saying is...I don’t know your whole situation, but if you put in all your effort and stay honest, how can you go wrong? I just don’t think that James would’ve talked to you this long for nothing.” She squeezed my other arm. “So why are you suddenly afraid he’s avoiding you on a personal level?”

I quickly nodded. “You’re so right! And he’s finalizing his script right now…I bet he’s really busy. But try telling that to my bitch of a friend.” My blood began to boil at the mention of Eleanor, who I hadn’t said a word to in the last seven days.

“Huh?”

I shook my head. “Never mind. So here’s what happens now. I’m going to call James next week.” I smiled. “And he’s GOING to tell me when he’s visiting. I want a flight number, I want an itinerary…” I paused. “And I want my damn first date.”

I stretched back out on the lounge chair. What a relief it was, to have a friend with some real-world advice.

If it worked for Jayla it has to work for me.

“Hey...” Jayla trailed off and seemed confused. “Where the hell did Dave and Laura go?”

I looked around the yard but couldn’t see them. “I’m sure they’re around. Maybe they’re inside. Or maybe they’re in a closet getting frisky.” And why wouldn’t they? It was one of the perks of being close enough to touch.

Jayla’s eyes nearly sprung from their sockets. “Laura getting freaky at someone else’s party? I don’t think so.”

Before she could finish laughing, Laura and Dave emerged from inside, hand-in-hand and looking rather flush.

No way.

“Hey guyyys.” Jayla wore a sly smile, and mouthed the word “slut!” to Laura when Dave wasn’t looking. I only pointed to her shirt, which was no longer tucked into her jeans.

As she frantically tucked it in, Adrian emerged from inside, settling beside Jayla in what was now a stunning image:
one hot couple to my left, one hot couple to my right.

It was a fifth-wheel moment that left me with two final options:

-To sell my soul to the highest bidder, or to make sure that James got his ass on a plane.

But let’s not forget a third special choice: volunteer my genitals to science, and forget about this dating thing for good...

Chapter Eighteen

 

Three days after Jayla’s party, I was huddled in my chair on a Tuesday morning at work, trying not to fall into a pity-party trap.

My positive vibes were being put to the test, as I couldn’t stop reading my unanswered e-mail to James.

----------------------------------

Hey James,

It’s almost bedtime and I still have my mind on the office! It seems like every day lately is a three-hour meeting I don’t care about, a mind-numbing project that takes too much time, or a discussion I don’t want to be involved in.

It’s just hard sometimes to focus on your amazing writing tips, when I’ve got crappy-job-syndrome over here. Can’t I fast-forward to writing full-time just like you? ;-)

I don’t know what I’d do without our conversations.

You’re still visiting next month, am I right?

Anyway I’m still free at lunch tomorrow for a chat, so give me a call at 12:15, I’ll be waiting in my usual spot.

Romi

----------------------------------

Was it the mention of the trip that had stopped him from replying? Was there something else wrong with the e-mail? Or maybe I was just being paranoid.

OF COURSE I’m being paranoid!

I literally shook my head back and forth, as if to purge all the “crazy” from my brain. Once I was through I filled up my head with rock-hard logic:
if you haven’t scared him away in FIVE months, he isn’t going anywhere now. So smile dammit!

“What the hell are you smiling about?”

I spun in my chair to find my work-dad Todd looking lankier than ever, in a blue buttoned shirt and beige dockers.
 

“I’m smiling ‘cause I’ve got the power!” I didn’t care how lame it was to shake my fist, it was helping me find my resolve.

“Jesus. Have you been reading self-help books or something? I’m worried.”

“Don’t be worried,” I said. “Life’s just better when you strive to make it good. It requires effort, but also courage! And…it helps when you’ve got some fate in your back pocket.”
 
I pointed to my butt and winked.

Did I just point to my ass and wink at my boss? Who cares, it’s working. I’m feeling more confident already.

“I guess this has to do with your Spanish lover-boy who pretends to be British. So is this loser ever coming to visit? Last I heard he wouldn’t seal the deal.”

“He’s coming in October like I said. And I’ll be finding out the details today. OKAY?”

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“Well it’s about damn time! Remember to bring him by the office when he comes. He needs my seal of approval.”

“Oh suurre.” I rolled my eyes. “Bringing him by the office. That’ll be his number one tourist stop.”

The more we discussed it out loud, the more and more real his upcoming visit became. I hoped Todd would hang around so we could talk about it even more.

“Okay, I’m bored with you.” He sighed and took a look at his watch. “I’m leaving for an early lunch.”

Todd strolled away without a second look, leaving me alone with another half an hour ‘til the call.

BOOK: Year of the Chick
10.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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