A Fortunate Accident – Chapter 22

As we approach Saif’s family home, I remember my last time on this street, and for once, I’d love to just be able to erase memories instead of having to keep them forever. I can only hope better memories tonight replace it.

“You look perfect,” Marcelo says, stepping back and scanning me from top to toe.

“I should hope so. This took three hours to complete.”

I skate my hands down my sides, adjusting the black dress until it sits on my hips smoothly. I’m sure I could have gone with many of the colorful dresses that Marcelo would have picked out for me, but nothing is better than a little black dress. This one has cap sleeves, a plunging V-neck line, and the length swishes around my knees.

I lift my arms and twirl in a circle for Marcelo, and he chuckles.

He holds out his arm for me. “Are you nervous?”

We fall into step side-by-side.

“A little,” I admit. “I don’t always fare well around parents. I just need to be gracious and keep the swearing to a minimum. I think I met Saif’s dad once when he came to pick Saif up from far-school camp. But we didn’t speak to each other, and I was like twelve.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“More than half a lifetime ago.” I smile at him. “I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for meeting me at the hotel. I plan on coming to the Amagi tomorrow, but I’ve heard Dominic has been there almost every day, and I didn’t want to run into him.”

“You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I need to if I wish to keep on breathing. He’s going to find some way to kill me. I know it.”

Marcelo squeezes my arm in his and looks around. “I’ll keep my eyes open. I’m always happy to escort you anywhere. And this was a good idea. The Bhaats will love the fact that you came with a chaperone.” He chuckles. “They’re a tight-knit family and network, but they love the traditional ways.”

I take a deep breath and hold it as we approach the front door. The sun is starting to dip in the sky, and twilight will be here before long. Warm, yellow light bathes the front porch in a golden hue as Marcelo and I wave our wristlets at the door to announce our presence. Saif’s elephant charm gift hangs around my neck, so I touch it briefly, hoping its power brings me some much-needed good luck tonight.

The door opens, and a servant smiles at us. “Please come in. Ms. Bhaat is on her way down right now.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach as I brace myself to face Saif’s mom.

But his sister comes floating down the staircase instead. Her smile is friendly, and she practically skips off the bottom stair before coming straight to me.

“Skylar, dear. It’s so good to see you in person.” Her hand is in mine before I’m even aware of it, and she leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “You look ravishing.”

“Thank you. I love your purple sari. It’s beautiful. Especially the beading.” Still holding her hand, I step back to admire her. She’s a picture of classic beauty. With her long hair curling around her shoulders and her hands and neck glittering with tasteful jewels, it’s no wonder she’s a sought-after member of the family. Saif has two younger brothers and a younger sister, but they all do their own thing. Sejal is the only one who still lives here with her network, and she helps take care of her parents. I appreciate their nuclear family situation. It’s something I always wanted.

I work hard to keep my smile in place as I think about how I was ready to sacrifice everything for my mother and family when they turned on me.

“Thank you. It’s one of my favorites too. Marcelo, it’s good to see you again,” she holds out her hand, and Marcelo takes it and lifts it as he bows.

“Thank you for inviting us both,” he replies.

From down the hall, I hear raised voices speaking in a foreign language. They sound stressed. Maybe angry? I’m not sure since I don’t understand the language. Both Marcelo and Sejal smile at each other without a flinch so I ignore it. My hearing is still sensitive anyway, despite having left the jungle over a day ago.

“Please leave your shoes here. Take slippers if you’d like.”

I slip my shoes off and spy Sejal walking barefoot, so I do the same. Marcelo stays in socks.

“Come,” Sejal says, waving towards the hall. “Saif and his guests are in the sitting room just off the garden. If you want to go outside later, we have slippers at every door.” She weaves her arm through mine and leans in. “Saif and I had a little chat last week about you and your business. Let’s talk after dinner, okay?” She lowers her voice. “I’m glad you came back. My brother is an idiot sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. I glance back at Marcelo, but as always, he’s minding his own business and admiring every painting we pass.

The sounds of boisterous talking become more raucous the closer we get to the room at the end of the hall. My ears start ringing before we even open the door. I brace myself for the noise so I don’t flinch when the door opens.

The sitting room is a massive expanse of hardwood floors and plush rugs. A piano and sitar have pride of place near the center wall between cases of real books. Three yellow Labrador dogs lie like logs in front of the French doors that lead out onto the back garden. They don’t even lift their heads when we walk in. I smile at their laziness. I love lazy dogs. They’re the best.

“Skylar’s here,” Saif shouts over three older people talking at the highest volume ever at the end of the room. He rushes forward and slides to a stop in front of me, his socks allowing him to coast over the slick floors. “Hello, gorgeous.” He leans in to kiss me on the cheek, and I let him. The cheek is fine. I want to make a good impression here. “Did you rest at all at the hotel?”

We had parted ways at the shuttle, and I booked myself into a nearby hotel to avoid Dominic for one more day. Neither of the men bunked in with me.

“I got a little rest. I passed out for the night and spent all day getting ready.”

On the other side of the room, Kalvin and Takemo are drinking beers with an older man who looks like Saif. That must be his father. And two other men are past them in the kitchen talking at the top of their lungs while people chop and cook.

Kalvin and Takemo both turn to smile at me, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I pull in a quick breath and have this moment where I’m trapped. I should be out flying around the stars — no commitments, no obligations. Just me and my ship and the open sky. What the hell am I doing here?

But Saif lays his hand on my bare arm, and the anxiety in my stomach calms down. This is part of my life, too — meeting people, developing my network, having a family.

You can do both, Skylar. Both of these things can exist in the same universe.

“Come on in. I want you to meet my dad and my mom’s other network mates.”

I glance between Saif and Sejal. “Sejal, are any of your men here tonight?”

“Yes, Arjun is here. My other two are off-planet right now.”

Sejal’s smile is gracious, and I could cry from the relief of it. Before meeting her, I remembered Saif’s comments about her exacting nature, her Type A personality. He always worried he would never measure up to her standards. It seems his fears were unwarranted.

“Marcelo, join me at the bar, and I’ll pour you a drink,” she says, leading Marcelo away.

I cross the room on Saif’s arm and meet up with Kalvin, Takemo, and the older man.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I say to Takemo. “I don’t remember you being invited.” I narrow my eyes at him, and he laughs. The older man raises his eyebrows.

“I am adept at inviting myself to interesting places. I hope you don’t object.” He covers his heart with his free hand.

I soften my tone. “Of course not. It seems you are now a part of my life, whether I like it or not.”

“That’s the spirit, Skylar.” He chuckles.

“Kalvin,” I say in greeting. I lean into him, and he kisses me on the cheek. If he feels threatened about being the non-dominant man in this situation, he doesn’t show it. He looks good in a button-down shirt, sharp black pants, and… socks. I kind of miss seeing those fancy shoes on everyone.

“Sky, it’s nice to see you not sweating buckets in the jungle.”

“Same.”

“I sense a rivalry here I wasn’t aware of,” the older man says, holding out his hand. “Hello, I’m Saif’s dad, Yohan. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, yes. I met you once, a long time ago. Sorry I didn’t recognize you.” I shake his hand and let go.

“That’s all right. I’ve gotten a lot more gray in the last few years.” He turns his head side to side, and I see more of the resemblance to the fuzzy memory of my twelve-year-old self.

“It’s a handsome look. You should keep it.” I nod my head and smile.

His returning smile is warm. “Thank you. You can stay.” He chuckles. “Let me go break up this discussion in the kitchen and get you a drink too while I’m at it. Is wine fine?”

“Always,” I reply.

When he opens the door to the kitchen and the voices spill out, I wince and turn away.

Saif pulls back. “Sorry. I know you’re still sensitive to sound, and my family is extremely loud. We speak all Hindi in this house at the top of our lungs.”

“It’s true,” Takemo says, taking a sip of his beer. “They have done nothing but yell since we arrived.”

Saif holds out his hand. “Yes, but it’s not aggressive. Like now…” He stops and tips his head to listen to the conversation, which sounds like a fight to me. “Arjun is saying that his shuttle to Decimo for tomorrow was canceled, and Ravi is complaining about the usual schedules.”

He listens for a moment more.

“Yep. It’s a regular discussion.” He shrugs. “It’s best to just pretend they are speaking at a normal volume.”

“Okay then.” I smile as Saif’s dad delivers a glass of wine into my hand.

We sit on the plush chairs and have a light conversation for a little while. Saif’s dad asks me about all the places on Rio I’ve been to, which restaurants I’ve liked, which museums I’ve visited. He spends several minutes telling me about the works of art he’s enjoyed the most and what he would love to see in the coming months. I smile, remembering Saif’s more creative side. I didn’t realize he got it from his father. But listening to this talk of museums and art saddens me. As a kid, I never got to do those things.

“I haven’t been to many museums, unfortunately.” I panic as his face falls. The man is obviously into the arts and was hoping to find a kindred spirit with me. “Not because I don’t like museums,” I hastily add. “It’s just that I grew up on a space ship and I spent little time on planets like you all.”

“Remember, Dad?” Saif asks, leaning forward to touch his father on the shoulder. “Skylar had private tutors on her ship. She didn’t attend boarding school.”

“Right! Sorry. I forget details sometimes.”

Be gracious, Skylar.

“It seems you love museums and art.” I touch my chest. “I do as well. Maybe we could go to a museum together sometime soon.” His eyes brighten. “You could pick your favorite, and I could meet you there.”

“I love this idea,” Yohan says, standing up. “Ah, my beautiful wife has joined us.”

As Saif’s mom enters the room in a red sari, I hasten to my feet. She doesn’t wear half as many jewels as Sejal does, but she still sparkles and shines like an early morning sunrise over the ocean. She’s diminutive, just a little shorter than me, with her hair pulled back in a bun and her smile turned up to full.

“Welcome, welcome, everyone. Sorry I’m late.” She glides across the room, heading straight for us. I suck in a breath and hold it. I’m not sure what to expect or even hope for here. I have never done the whole ‘meet the parents’ song and dance. Hell, I’ve never been with one man more than two nights in a row, so already, I am in unknown territory.

“This must be Skylar.” She approaches me with her hands out. Her fingers go straight to my face, cradling my cheeks between her two worn palms. Saif tenses behind her. I blink away my surprise. “What a beautiful woman you are,” she says, tilting my head side to side and peering down into my eyes. “I think maybe you don’t eat enough.” She pats my face and then drops her hands.

“Come.” She adjusts her sari at her shoulder. “I will make sure you don’t leave here hungry.”

She whirls around and marches to the kitchen, speaking in Hindi at full volume. People in the kitchen scramble to get out of her way and whisk platters into the adjoining dining room. I glance at Saif. He’s smiling and brandishing a thumbs up.

Takemo leans in and whispers, “Breathe, Skylar. You’re turning white.”

I let all the air in my lungs out in a giant exhale and suck in a new breath before I blackout. Kalvin chuckles, and Yohan’s smile is sweet.

I glance behind us at Marcelo and Sejal. Sejal is smiling too, and Marcelo seems pleased.

I didn’t even say one word to the woman, and she’s ready to feed me like some distant family member.

I think that went okay.