Page 25 of The Promise of a Traitor

Advik grinned. “I get it Dad. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“What brought this on?” Maya asked, curiously. “Not that I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth…”

“I dropped Aastha home last night,” he mumbled, propping a pillow against the headboard and making himself comfortable.

“Who knew there was a gentleman under that hippie beard?” Yash murmured, reaching over and grabbing a slice of apple from the bowl on the tray.

“I did,” Maya said proudly, smacking Yash’s hand away from the fruit and pulling the bowl closer to her.

“You’re going to take credit for it, aren’t you?” Yash muttered, shaking his hand out and going back to knotting his tie.

“I was the one who raised him right,” she bragged, picking up the soggy toast. One bite and she gagged a little, dropping it back on the plate. “Or nagged him endlessly,” she muttered. She picked up the glass of orange juice, grimacing a little at the sticky feeling from where the juice had sloshed over.

Yash stifled a laugh but didn’t say anything.

“What’s everyone got against my beard?” Advik asked now, trying to sneak the wet toast off the plate and toss it in the trash but the damn thing was sticking to the plate.

“It’s only that we can’t see your handsome face,” Maya explained, unsticking her fingers from the glass, one at a time. She looked around for somewhere to put it but after glancing at the crowded tray on her lap, she decided to brave another sip. “But I suppose it only matters what Aastha thinks about it.”

“And her parents,” Yash added, finally having knotted his tie to his satisfaction. “They might object to a son in law who looks like he’s homeless.”

“And that brings me to what brought this on. I met her parents last night,” Advik said, nudging his mother and almost making her bobble her glass of juice. That damn orange juice was destined for destruction! “How do you know her mother again?”

Maya buried her face in her glass of juice and mumbled something like ‘fwendfomkwitty.’

“I’m sorry, what?” Baffled, Advik looked at Yash who shrugged, equally perplexed. “Ma?” Advik prodded.

Maya sighed, long and hard. “She’s my friend.”

“From work?” Yash asked, watching his red-faced wife carefully.

“From my kitty,” Maya mumbled.

“Kitty?” Advik and Yash echoed.

“Like a kitty party?” Yash added, disbelievingly.

“No, like a kitty cat,” Maya snapped sarcastically. “Obviously a kitty party, Yash.”

“Obviously?” Yash gaped at his wife. “You are part of a kitty? When the hell did that happen?”

Maya gave another gusty exhale. The scrambled eggs Advik had burnt for her breakfast fluttered a little in its wake.

“I was having a mid-life crisis okay? Work was going great. It didn’t need much of my attention. You were doing great. Didn’t need much of my attention. Advik was off in New York, doing his thing. Definitely didn’t want my attention. And I was…bored.”

Advik snorted, a loud burst of laughter escaping him. “Most people,” he chuckled, “have an affair. They don’t organise tea parties.”

Maya glared at him. “It was a moment of weakness, okay?”

“How did I not know this?” Yash asked, still gaping at her.

“It’s not like you’re home at four in the afternoon to know what’s happening,” Maya muttered defensively.

“So, you met her mom in this kitty and,” Advik made a rolling motion with his hand, “became besties?”

Maya opened her mouth, shut it again. After a moment, she said, “Well not besties but it was nice to make a new friend, you know? Someone other than the circle we’ve had practically all our lives?”

Advik understood. His parents’ friends and their families were bonded, for life. They gave new meaning to the word ‘found family.’ Advik couldn’t imagine his life without them. And still, New York had been nice because he’d built a life there that had felt all his own. He’d found friendships and relationships that didn’t come with inbuilt context. It had been refreshing. Until, it had been heartbreaking.