Sipping from steaming mugs of coffee, they sat quietly opposite each other across the centre table of her beautifully kept living room. Around him a sense of soft fabrics and wood, pretty looking lamps that must illuminate the room in comforting yellow haze come sundown, all in a dominance of beige and browns – it seemed to complement this image of her seated at the couch well somehow.
According to the information he had, it ought to be decades since she moved from her native country to L.A., though at present she is dressed elegantly in a cream-coloured silk saree. Is this how generally she dresses in the evening or is this a special for his visit? She would be about thirty-seven now. She looked lithe and beautiful with long black hair, her smooth skin a shade of pale yellow – a feature of hers he was quick to note. It seemed to be the very same tone as his own which was unsurprising given that even though they had never properly met before, they were as closely related as two human beings could be.
It had taken Jeet a while to track her down. When he finally contacted her via social media, Nandini took a whole week to respond.
Thank you for replying, but I don’t want to talk too much via messages, or even a video call. I want our first real conversation to be in person if that is alright.
- Jeet.
I would love that. Naturally, I would be more embarrassed than you can imagine the first time I see you, but I would like nothing more. I am not sure if I can leave home and come to India at this very moment though.
- Nandini.
I got a job in San Francisco. That’s when I thought of finally looking you up. It’s nice to know that you’re not so far away. I’ll see you soon.
- Jeet.
I am sorry I didn’t contact you on my own. I’ve always known exactly where you are. Love.
- Nandini.
Nandini stole glances at her son across the steam rising from her cup that she gently clasped in both hands in front of her face. It made her feel the smallest bit protected somehow. Protected from his brown eyes scanning the room and coming to rest on her. They were eyes that looked like those of a young man she had once loved and lost as a teenager. Before she was forcefully sent away by parents to a country halfway across the world, to a whole new life. To start anew, as she had been told. Although at twenty-one, Jeet was a couple of years older than his father was when she had last seen him. She wondered if he might say something to get things going. Get the nastiness out of the way. And maybe leave right after.
“So, how are you?” he asked.
This was not what she had expected him to say.
“I’m well, actually. How are you?”
“Excited. I’m excited. To meet you.”
It was not going to go the way she had feared.
***
When he departed, the warmth of his personality lingered in the room in the dying light of dusk through the windows. The impression of his charming smile stayed present when he was absent – it made her softly clasp her arms around herself.
Before he left, she asked him, “When will I see you next? You’ve seen me in my home now, like you asked to. Do you want to go out and get coffee next?”
“Can I come back here instead?”
“I… Craig, he doesn’t know yet. My husband. But he’s away this coming weekend. You… you wouldn’t have to leave early.”
“That sounds good. I’ll text you before coming.”
***
Strands of conversation from the first meeting meandered through her mind whenever she found herself alone the next few days.
“What do you do in San Fran? The rent is quite high.”
“I work as a VR game developer. It’s a good studio.”
“I’ve never used it but of course I know what VR is. Aren’t you only twenty-one?”
That smile again, “I’m good at what I do.”
“You are uncomfortable,” he said.
“No… yes, maybe a little,” she said, “Is that okay? Can I be uncomfortable for a bit?”
“Only for a bit. Then we start bonding.”
They both laughed. It was the first of many times he made her laugh, but the last time she held traces of nervousness in hers.
“I wanted to tell you,” she said, “I’m sorry about your father.”
“Oh… that’s alright. I was only four when he passed. I didn’t really know him either.”
“I’m sorry.”
After a moment of silence, she added, “He was the best, most badass idiot I’ve ever known.”
When Saturday came all she could think about was meeting her son again. It turned out that he got delayed and by the time he reached drenched in rain, it was just past sundown.
“Did you know that it actually does rain in L.A.?” he asked first thing after coming in.
“Not very often, but I suppose today is a rare day,” she said.
“Ah,” he said putting his backpack down on the floor, “I’m just glad I wasn’t carrying these in my retro themed backpack. No waterproofing in that one.”
“You’re all wet. I’ve only got my husband’s shirts. They’ll fit.”
“Huh. Alright then.”
He had brought a VR headset and an expensive-looking pitch-black Razorblade laptop.
“This is your thing then?” she asked.
Jeet, now dressed in a buttoned linen shirt and linen pants, looked up from the gadgets lying on the centre table to her. She wore a similarly light-colored saree as last time that wound elegantly around her upper body, leaving her curving waist and flat stomach bare. There was a hint of a smile on her face. He had not thought that it would matter, but he somehow enjoyed the fact that his birth mother was so beautiful.
Jeet shrugged and said, “This is my thing.”
“I really want to try it. But you look a little cold, why don’t I make you a hot tea or coffee first?”
A pause.
“Or maybe a drink?” she asked.
“I’ll have one if you’re having,” he replied.
“Fuck it, it’s the weekend.”
“I still can’t believe you’re so scared of rides at amusement parks,” said Nandini cheerfully, sipping the last of her second peg and putting the glass down on the table alongside his empty one.
“I’m just surprised that you yourself are a such sucker for rollercoasters, is all I’m saying,” he said putting up his arms as though in full disclosure.
“Why?”
“Oh… I guess I don’t exactly know. I’ve myself never really…”
“Like literally never?”
“No…”, and then straightening up and putting on a sombre expression he added, “I suppose I’ve missed out on some of the more analogue joys of life. But I have other things to compensate for that."
He looked at the VR headset and laptop on the table beside their glasses.
"Let’s do it,” she said.
“Yes.”
“And I’ll take you.”
“Huh? Where?”
“I’ll take you to an amusement park, and maybe show you that it can be fun,” she said, adding after a pause, “Better late than never.”
Jeet could not tell which of the two of them she meant.
***
When he tucked the long strands of her dark hair neatly behind her ears and put the headset on her eyes, she said, “I can’t see anything.”
“You will. In a bit.”
It was a psychological horror experience. The first half an hour passed with Nandini getting to grips with and marvelling at the technology. But then the ghosts of sadness and terror came to haunt the player. Nandini shuddered and took off the headset, too afraid to continue.
“You know, that’s against the rules,” announced Jeet calmly.
“It’s too scary.”
They sat down and shared another drink.
“I can’t believe you made this thing from scratch all by yourself. No wonder they hired you if this is your demo,” she told him.
“Thanks.”
His skin was the slightest bit flushed from the alcohol. He looks very pleasant, she thought to herself, quite handsome in fact.
“This is how you tell stories isn’t it?” she asked.
“I suppose. Not a very good story if it scares off the player though.”
“I’ll give it another go if you promise to stand beside me throughout.”
“I’ll be right there with you,” he said, adding, “Just don’t elbow me thinking I’m a ghost.”
“Aren’t you though? Hmm… I get drunk easily Jeet, you really mustn’t answer that.”
***
“Jeet,” Nandini whimpered when the shadow appeared in front of her but somehow also all around her at the same time in the room with scarlet walls. She was conscious of his hands coming to rest around her shoulders immediately.
She felt delicate to him as he held her. He did not say anything, waiting for her to continue as she felt like inside the game. Across periods of the game, she shuddered in fear or exalted in joy and relief. When she seemed most scared he crossed his arms around her and her tight muscles softened in his embrace. Inadvertently his hand rested on the skin of her exposed midriff.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said.
“You’ll know,” he replied, “Just go with your instincts and the situation will respond to it. That’s the game.”
By the time she was done, it was late at night.
“You’re amazing to have made that. That too from your home,” she said.
“Thanks. Um… that means a lot,” he said, for the first time looking a little shy, “It’s late, I’ll get going.”
“Oh… we forgot to even eat. Will you stay for some pizza?”
He stayed.
They drank more whiskey till the pizza arrived, which they finished in little time. Afterwards, they chatted some more, catching up a little on their individual histories and each in their own way thinking about the invisible string that had connected them across continents all these years for them to finally meet in this room.
“You don’t need to find an Airbnb, you can crash here if that’s okay,” said Nandini after he had made to leave once more.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I really do insist.”
“Oh… well, thanks. I’ll take this couch.”
***
“You’re awake,” her voice brought him back from his reverie. It was the middle of the night. He had not noticed when her dark silhouette had drifted from her bedroom to the living room couch where he was lying down.
“I take some time getting to sleep in rooms I am not used to,” he said.
“Even harder on this couch,” she said, “Trust me I know from experience. Of bad nights.”
No one spoke for a moment, and then she said, “Come to bed. There’s enough space.”
***
She woke in bed in the morning with his hand stroking her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “Your brows were clenched together and you were making a face. I thought you were having a nightmare.”
“Oh,” she said wiping her eyes, “I never noticed when you got up.”
“I haven’t been up that long. I slept well.”
“Yes, I suppose you did. You drifted off within minutes of lying down beside me,” she said still sounding a little groggy, before suddenly seeming more alert, “Wait a minute, I smell something…”
“Breakfast. I made myself welcome in your kitchen, I hope you don’t mind. I’ll have something ready by the time you freshen up.”
***
Sitting at breakfast with her felt distinctly different to dinner. There was less laughter, less talking, and strangely what felt like a deeper buzz of intoxication even without alcohol.
Jeet felt he had the answer to his ponderings about her attire the first time they met. Freshly bathed and smelling of jasmines, her long open hair damp and clinging to the sides of her face, Nandini was dressed in an off-white saree for the rest of the day. The fabric seemed soft and it made her look very beautiful. Jeet himself wore a fresh pair of shirt and pants offered from her husband’s wardrobe.
They cleaned up afterwards and sat together side by side on the couch in silence for a bit, until Nandini said, “I feel like you’re going to say you will leave, any moment now.”
Jeet hardly ever remembered his dreams beyond the first few seconds of his waking moments, but today he remembered very well the sensation of her arms around him while he drifted off to sleep. It felt very much like a dream, to be able to sleep in her embrace, except that she was still here in front of him, her eyes already looking so familiar even across the strange new glint of tenderness in them. Something had changed since the first meeting.
He leaned forward and gave her a gentle hug. When she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer he stayed with her quietly, pressed against her bosom. One arm around her shoulder, the other around the bare skin of her waist, he pressed his face close against the softness of her fragrant hair.
When he finally withdrew his hand brushed across the skin of her side and this merest of caresses scattered goosebumps across her body. In the next moment, all ambient noise went mute and as though present within a scene from a silent film, Jeet watched her lean in and place a small kiss on his lips.
The palm of his left hand was on the side of her face and neck, while the other rested on her waist as he leaned forward and kissed her back. Not the mere touching of lips like she had done, but one full of tender longings and a willingness to express them.
After a few seconds had passed, and sound and some shred of background awareness was allowed back into the world, he asked her, “Was that very wrong?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly, “That was very wrong.”
“Hmm.”
“Especially seeing as you’re wearing my husband’s clothes.”
“So then?”
“Fuck it.”
***
What a strange thing it is to feel so terribly drawn to someone, thought Jeet. He had her half lying down leaning her neck against the arm of the couch while he sat upright on the mattress close to her, his arm cushioning her neck. The upper part of her saree was unwrapped from her bosom and strewn askew. Her pale green mini-blouse emphasized the gentle mounds of her breasts, leaving a plunging neckline and her midriff bare.
Nandini felt her son’s breath warm on her face and his hand tracing down her sides, her stomach, his thumb flicking across her navel. Aside from setting her body alive with desire for more intimate contact, the confidence of his palm across her naked skin seemed to suggest that at least in this moment, she belonged to him.
Delighting in this sensation Nandini breathed deeply. Jeet watched her stomach rise and settle back down softly; she smiled at him. And he felt curiously at home.
Her deft fingers flicked open each of the buttons on her husband’s linen shirt to reveal her son’s torso. He was fit. Sitting on his knees in front of her while she sat up on the couch, there was an air of comfortable surrender about him. She removed the fabric from him and marvelled at his beautiful body. He was lithe, like her, and strong.
As he sat staring at her, he seemed to her one of those rare people who could with equal abandon showcase both strength and vulnerability at the same time. She guided him onto the couch, seating him next to her and they kissed again. Instead of nervous tremors in her body, this time there was a confident, shameless longing in their embrace. Deep inside of a glorious kiss, his fingers unhooked the back of her blouse and proceeded in a gesture of unwrapping her body.
Withdrawing gently, but staying close to his face, Nandini said, somewhat redundantly, “I don’t wear a bra at home, I hope you don’t mind.”
