Accidentally, In love ( UNDER EDITING )

Chapter 26 : When The Subramaniams Met the Tatous.

The absolute perfection of a male specimen that is the boyfriend is sitting next to me looking like he walked out of a Vogue shoot. Grey chinos, a black button down shirt rolled up to the sleeves with the first two buttons opened and black loafers. His hair tousled artfully, long lean fingers intertwined anxiously.

The brother is seated in between Arnaud and his dad. He and Arnaud look like fraternal twins except he has a French beard. He is wearing black chinos, a light blue shirt and black loafers like Arnaud. He has nerd glasses on and looks like a pseudo-intellectual.

A the hotel, the ceiling is sky high, there are ornate gold draperies at the entrance, high backed chairs with velvet cushions, and smartly dressed waiters at the side, patiently waiting for us to choose from the beautifully written menu in gold.

The matriarch orders some salad for herself and me. The Tatous stare at each other. Mr Tatou asks for a chicken sandwich with fries but Arnaud nods his head, glowering at him. Here the mother gives me her famous raise eyebrow look. Her way of saying. I told you so alluding to her Skype call.

 He therefore changes and orders for French fries with some salad. Arnaud asks for some hot chocolate, his brother for coffee. We wait for our order to arrive, tension thick and palpable in the room.

I know what writers mean when they write, you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. I seriously felt like doing it with the butter knife in my hand.

Like the civilized people that we are, we eat first. Each one eating more slowly than the other, to avoid beginning the inevitable conversation, for which we had all gathered.

Coffee is ordered for everyone, and a cup of hot chocolate for Arnaud. The matriarch decided that it was time, she took matters in her own hands and addressed the elephant, in the room or rather on the table.

“Mr Tatoo,” she begins. I kid you not, that’s how she pronounced his name. To his credit, he flinches a bit, but makes no attempt to correct her. “ I’m sure you are well aware, that our children have been living in together.” She stops here waiting for him to reply.

He nods his head curtly.

“Don’t you have a problem with that?” She asks him perplexed.

“They are two grown consenting adults. If they want to live together, it’s their decision, I’m nobody to stop them.” He says slowly with a thick French accent.

“ Aren’t you a Catholic?” she says the word Catholic as though it’s a disgusting thing. A disease, like leprosy; something hideous, that might be contracted by the mere mention of it.

“Yes, what does that have to do with this? How are the two related?” Arnaud’s dad asks thoroughly confused.

“Don’t you Catholics consider it living in sin?” She reminds him helpfully.

“ Madame, we are liberal catholics. If the two people in question are consenting adults, then so be it. You cannot force anybody. Times are changing.” He says prudently.

Arnaud’s brother Audric, who finds a lull in the conversation, immediately fixes me with an accusing glare. “ Arnaud has told us that you are a vegetarian. Is it true?” He asks me.

“Yes. He does not lie.” I say staring right back at him.

“ I wonder what the two of you have in common.” He says striking a pose similar to that of a philosopher deep in thought. “You are a staunch vegetarian, he thrives on meat and fish. I assume you do not drink.”  He asks me.

I nod my head, wondering where he is going with this.

“Wine is more a part of our blood than water. If you cut our veins open, wine will pour forth.” He chuckles at his own joke which nobody except him found funny.

“There is abosultely no common point between the two of you. The both of you are as different as chalk and cheese. Indian chalk and French cheese, might I add.” Again grinning like an idiot.

I shoot a pleading look towards Arnaud. He looks miserable, still confused as to why his own brother, was hell bent on screwing his own case.

“Wait a second.” Audric says stroking his French beard.

“ I know. It’s Intercourse.” He says with a flourish, like he just discovered the answer, to the final question in, Who wants to be a millionaire.

Jeez. Could he be anymore crude? Discussing our personal, intimate details like this.

I glance a quick look at my mother and she is white as a sheet. Having just realized that the precious gulab ka phool (rose) that she nurtured with so much tender, loving, care and in spite of her strict vigilant eye, was plucked and deflowered? She stares straight at me, and I can read the question in her eyes. “Is he speaking the truth?”

I am mortified. These details are not discussed with one’s parents. I shake my head implying no. Her flower was safe.

Audric does not stop here. He has more to say.

“ I’m sure, it must be the intercourse. I must advise the two of you though. If it’s purely physical, like I see it, it will not last long. I see marriages broken every second day due to incompatibility.” He says looking every bit like the divorce lawyer that he is.

I just want the earth to open up and swallow me alive. Under the table Arnaud finds my hand and intertwines my finger with his. He shoots his brother a dirty look, demanding him to stop.

My mother just looks at me shocked out of her wits. Arnaud’s father looks bored.

 I can’t help but start crying. This was not how I imagined the most important rendez-vous in my life to go. These were people close to me and Arnaud. They were supposed to support us and give us their blessings, so that we could embark on a future filled with love and happiness.

But here we were, a huge question mark before my chastity, lying like dirty linen set out to dry.

I bawl harder. Big fat tears, roll down my eyes, snot running down my nose. I can’t stop. I know I’m making a fool of myself but I can’t help it. This is wrong.

All wrong.

Arnaud tries to console me but I just can’t stop crying. My mother apparently had enough of this.

“Mr Tatoo, I think I have seen and heard enough. Things are definitely not going to work out, between the two families as your elder son, so cleverly pointed out. Catholics and Tamilian Brahmins have nothing in common. Questions are being raised, on my daughter’s virtue and I will not have that happening. I suggest that before things get ugly and unpleasant, we part ways.” Saying so, she gets up in a very dignified manner, put her arms around me and helps me to get up. She picks up her purse, removes a handkerchief from the outer pocket and hands it to me.

She places few hundred dollar bills on the table and without turning back, she holds my hand and walks towards the elevator of the hotel. The elevator ride is silent. Once we reach her hotel suite, she swipes the card and leads me inside.

I sniffle into the hanky still thinking of the disastrous way that the meeting ended.

She makes me sit on the bed and slowly pats my head while I cry my heart out. Once, the tears have dried, she sends me off to the bathroom to wash my eyes. While I’m in the bathroom, I hear her calling the airline company and booking my ticket to India.

 That night my mother allows me to eat Ben and Jerry’s chocolate chip ice cream for dinner, a privilege reserved for special occasions. She knew that it was one of the few things that  needed and for the first time, like a mother allowed me to have it.

Early next morning, we caught a flight to India and here I am.