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But she doesn’t have long to pout, because Jamie starts plating up the food. Everything smells amazing, traditional holiday fare mingling with the familiar fragrance of masala.
“Ves, do you eat shellfish?” asks Jamie.
“I do.”
The first serving on Ves’s plate is prawn pulao, basmati rice flavored with onion, ginger, garlic, green chilies and plenty of whole spices, cinnamon and cardamom the most prominent. The tangy, peppery dish is unfamiliar to him, but he loves the plump shrimp on top, the slightly shriveled peas and cilantro studded throughout, and the lime juice drizzled liberally on top. The first scent is so divine he could have happily eaten a whole plate of it, but as each additional dish is uncovered, he starts to wonder how he can possibly make room for it all.
“I think you had the right idea wearing stretchy pants,” he mutters to Elisha.
She stabs at a shrimp, holding her fork aloft in victory. “I’m always right.”
Next, Ves slurps his first tisrya, clams in a savory green chili and coconut paste. It’s followed up with a slice of chicken, which is rubbed with spices and herbs and doused in melted rosemary lemon butter. Coating his roasted potatoes in the drippings is sweet, sweet heaven. The sides aren’t skimpy, either: fried okra, perfectly golden, crunches in his mouth, a sharp contrast to the tender succulence of the grilled paneer-and-red-pepper skewers. Sweet-corn fritters and garlicky broccolini are served on the side, simple but equally delicious as the main dishes.
He asks about each new dish before he eats, turning the new and unfamiliar words over in his head until he’s pronouncing them correctly. When the sweet-and-sour fish vindaloo is served in small bowls with steamed white rice, he inhales greedily. The aroma is unlike anything he’s had before. The red curry is thin compared to the chunks of firm cod, the broth strong with the pleasingly sour tang of feni, a Goan brandy that makes Ves think of tart, crisp pineapples and scorching summer vacations.
The flavors here are different from the takeout in the city or the comforting vegetarian food Arun’s mom makes. He’s never eaten food like this before and his taste buds zing with excitement.
“Nope, you won’t find these dishes in most American restaurants,” Anita agrees when he tells her, smiling when he mentions that he loves the chicken biryani he’s eaten in the city. “It’s all naan and tandoori chicken on most restaurant menus, isn’t it? But Goan cuisine is different since Goa is on India’s western coast, so it’s famous mainly for seafood dishes.”
He’s glad she said that, because he wasn’t able to place it, and he’s dreadfully afraid he’s asked a few too many questions. “Oh,” he settles for saying. He’s still reeling from the knowledge that Anita and Jamie cooked all of this for him. Yes, when his parents were still together, they had multicourse meals, but those were always prepared by the chef. And when he was deemed old enough to join them at the table, he would eat fast enough to be excused so he could escape back to his room and his books.
But something must show on his face, some sign of his curiosity and ignorance, because Elisha takes pity on him. “Portugal colonized and ruled Goa for four hundred fifty years until independence in 1961,” she says around a bite of prawn pulao. “There’s a lot of Portuguese influence on our food, which is why the flavor is different from what you may be used to.”
“You may have seen some of our family photos on the way in,” says Anita. “My parents’ ancestral home is in Pernem, which is in north Goa. It has a tiny population even compared to Piney Peaks! My mother missed home, but I grew up in New York City, so I’ve always been a bit of a city girl at heart. We went back to Pernem to visit family regularly, and after my father retired last year, he and my mother decided to live there permanently.”
“The beach life,” Dave says with a wistful sigh. “Can’t wait for January.”
“What’s in January?” asks Ves.
“Our annual trip to Goa. We always take a two-week holiday after New Year’s Eve,” says Jamie. “Looks like we’ll both be leaving town around the same time, huh?”
Ves wishes he could take his question back. At the worst possible moment, his tongue decides to go on vacation, too, so his mouth takes turns opening and closing.
“Or maybe you’ve changed your mind about leaving?” asks Anita. She’s looking at Ves, but she gives herself away when her eyes flick to Elisha for just a second, as though she’s trying to gauge how much her daughter wants him to stay.
Okay, it’s obvious that they know there’s something going on between him and Elisha, but how much? That they almost went for it in the Chocolate Mouse’s stockroom? Oh god, what if there were security cameras and the whole family saw him sliding his hand up her thigh in grainy black-and-white? His tongue makes an unfortunate return, this time feeling too thick and fuzzy for his mouth, and he swallows desperately.
“Mom, he has a life back in New York. He can’t just up and relocate.” Elisha refills his glass of water and gestures for him to take a sip, while Dave looks on with mirth.
Actually, as an author who could work from basically anywhere with a decent Wi-Fi signal and back support, Ves could just up and relocate. But obviously that’s beside the point. Not even worth pointing out. Especially not since she’s shut it down so quickly.
“Of course he does,” Anita says brightly. “We’d just love to get to know you better, Ves.”
“New blood is always good,” Dave says around a mouthful of rice and vindaloo.
Jamie laughs. “Way to sound like a cult, Dad.”
Sorry, Elisha mouths behind the rim of her wineglass.
Dave makes a grumbly sound of disagreement deep in his chest. “A cult wouldn’t want Ves. He’s got lots of folks who’d miss him. Where would I be without my apprentice woodworker?”
“Probably further along than where you are,” says Elisha. Without warning she grabs Ves’s hands. “Soft. Uncalloused. Have you even held a piece of wood?”
He’s still recovering from the sudden snatching of his extremities to put together the reason why Jamie and Dave are rollicking with laughter, and even Anita’s turning away to unsuccessfully hide her giggle.
Elisha groans and unceremoniously drops his hand. “You people are all awful.”
As the family continues eating and chatting, Ves tries to get back to normal, only to realize... nothing about this is normal for him. It’s been surreal ever since he crossed the threshold. Hugs and jokes and laughter. Conversation that doesn’t leave him out. Same as Arun’s family, he’s never once been made to feel like a guest, but rather part of the family right away. They’re both families that want him there.
