Poles Apart

Chapter Fifty-Two

Arvi

"Arvi, come, we'll sit outside, in the garden," Gayatri Athayya invites me.

I try to refuse, not to intrude on my parents-in-law's private time, but my mother-in-law denies me the right to refuse and takes me out along with her.

Passing my father-in-law a smile in greeting, I pour myself a cup of tea and walk back to the stone steps leading to the lawn, since the small table has only two chairs arranged around it.

"Why are you sitting there?" Mamayya chastises. "Wait, someone will get a chair for you. You'll be spoiling your saree."

"No, Mamayya it's alright," I try to dissuade him as a worker runs to bring another chair.

"How is it alright?" he demands, not leaving any room for refusal. "Come here. Wait for him to bring a chair. Your father would be pissed at me if I let his daughter sit on the ground."

I smile awkwardly at the last part of his sentence, something he meant as a joke.

"He won't mind," I assure him, meekly.

My father-in-law chuckles in good humour, motioning for me to sit on the chair that the worker places around the table.

"Does he call to check up on you?" he enquires, generally.

I only smile at the question, not knowing how to tell my in-laws that my father and I don't have the easiest relationship.

I don't know what he takes from my silence or shallow smile, he merely nods with a smile of his own.

"What about Arjun? Does he take good care of you?"

I glance at my mother-in-law, who looks particularly offended that her husband would even doubt Arjun's care for me.

"He does," I answer, trying to minimalize the damage.

Mamayya glances at Athayya, smiling at her grumpy face, and I know where Arjun gets his teasing nature from. "Don't bother about your Athayya, to her, her son's the epitome of greatness."

"Sure," Athayya banters back. "I'm the one that can't go to sleep without talking of my children's achievements, every night."

"Yes, that is you," Mamayya leads her on. "I have other things to think about—"

"Like what? Your company?" Athayya taunts.

"Like my dearest wife," Mamayya flirts.

I cover my chuckle behind the rim of my teacup. But the tea nearly spills out of my cup, along with a gasp from my mouth when I feel a pair of lips on my cheek. "Hi," Arjun whispers in my ear.

The tea only splashes in the cup, thankfully, but I quickly put it on the table to inspect my white saree.

"Arjun," I scold, unappreciative of his sudden display of affection. What if the tea had spilt onto my saree?

"Sorry," he apologises, pressing his lips against my cheek again.

My face is quick to warm up when I realise that I'm still sitting with my in-laws.

Gayatri Athayya is the one to stifle a chuckle this time, taking her husband's hand when he offers it to her, and they leave the lawn together.

"Did it get on your saree?" Arjun asks, sitting down in the chair his mother left unoccupied.

"No," I answer. "But you didn't have to kiss me like that, you know? What would your parents think?"

Arjun rolls his eyes, obviously not appreciating the 'what would your parents think?' line. "What can be thought about it? It's a very innocent gesture."