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A part of me is proud of his steely control, which he keeps showcasing every time he wants to touch me but cannot. I don’t know what to make of my own feelings for him. All these years, I’ve been waiting to fulfill Daadi’s wish, and now Vikram has done it for me. He has fulfilled his promise, and it’s high time I fulfilled mine.
“You wanted Devki Estate, and I wanted you,” he said last night.
If I don’t respect his reasons for marrying me, I might never be at peace. I know shifting permanently to the U.S. is practically impossible and a long procedure, but I will speak to him soon, and we will find a middle way, I am sure.
The car halts at the airport, and Daadi and I get down with our luggage. She hasn’t told me yet where we are flying. I stride to the VIP entry of the departure gate, where the flight attendant greets us both. I am surprised how Daadi managed to book all of this. We check in our luggage, and only when I get my boarding pass do I know where we are heading—New York!
I stare at Daadi in disbelief while she grins back. “How’s my surprise?”
Effing hell! She is taking me to New York?
“Daadi? We... we are flying to...”
“Yes,” she nods. “We are going to see the family. I was missing them, and so have you.”
I am definitely not missing Vanraj uncle and Meera aunty, but I do miss Vikram at times, especially his extravagant attitude and more, which I don’t wish to ponder upon at this moment.
“Does he know?” I ask as we walk to the gate where the plane will depart from.
“No. I haven’t told anyone. I want to see their expressions when we ring that doorbell.”
I can already imagine their expressions. Vanraj uncle will be happy to see his mother, Meera aunty will be shocked, and Vikram... I don’t know. It will be interesting to see how he reacts seeing us there.
In an hour, we board the flight. The first-class tickets are way more comfortable than I expected, and the services offered in-flight keep me entertained throughout. This is our first journey abroad together, and Daadi and I chat for hours until she finally falls asleep. Luckily, I brought my laptop along, despite Daadi’s denial. I need to check my emails regularly, even if I am on holiday. So, I open it and begin working, followed by surfing the internet, thanks to the in-flight WiFi facility on board.
After a nonstop 15-hour flight, we land in New York, and from here, I take care of everything, letting Daadi relax. I know where the Grovers reside. It’s a penthouse in one of the expensive skyscrapers at the center of this iconic city. So, I hire a cab, forcing my eyes to stay open despite the bad jet lag, and we drive to our destination. It’s hardly 8:00 PM in New York, and I am sure the entire family will be home to welcome us. I just keep my fingers crossed, hoping the elder Grover couple shows the same thrill and joy as we reach home, or else Daadi will be truly upset.
An hour later, we get down from the cab. I am thrilled to see the gigantic glass building before us, which is entirely residential. It would cost a fortune for people to own a house here, and my in-laws own the highest one in range. New York’s winters can be brutal for newcomers, and that’s exactly what Daadi and I are facing. I usher Daadi inside, and we are stopped at the lobby by the receptionist.
“How can I help you, ma’am?”
I get Daadi seated on the couch and handle the receptionist’s queries.
“Which floor is the Grover’s penthouse?”
“Do you have an appointment, ma’am, to meet them?”
I am a bit offended. Appointment? But that’s how cities abroad work. They don’t let you walk in anywhere without a prior appointment.
“We are family,” I snap. “She is Vikram Singh Grover’s grandmother, and I am his...”
Before I can tell her my identity, the phone at the reception rings, and she excuses me to take the call. Apparently, it’s from the Grover’s penthouse. I hear her taking access permission for some pizza delivery, making me wonder if that’s what this family eats every day or if today is special. I think it’s Meera Grover giving those instructions. I don’t know! I wait.
“Ma’am,” the receptionist continues on the call. “Someone from the Grover family is here. Should I give them access to the penthouse?”
I swallow angrily as I hear the woman’s voice on the line, which doesn’t seem to match Meera aunty’s. The receptionist listens and then drops the call.
“Ma’am, the family is busy hosting a private dinner. They have asked you to wait in the lobby for an hour or two. Should I bring you some coffee or...”
“What the hell!” I yell back at her, soon realizing Daadi shouldn’t witness this. I don’t want her to know how we are being treated. “Who gave these orders to make us wait? Didn’t you tell them we are part of the Grover family?”
“I did, but Sabrina Ma’am insisted you wait until their private dinner is over.”
Sabrina? Damn! She is here? Private dinner? This is the worst thing happening to me, but I am not going to make Daadi suffer. I want to call Vikram, but my SIM card has no network ever since I landed in this country.
“Maahi? What’s delaying so much?” Daadi asks from the couch. I fake a smile at her.
“She is giving us the access card, Daadi. It’s taking time to update,” I lie and turn back to the receptionist.
