"Manik, beta!" Chachi calls, as I forcefully manage to tear my eyes away from Alya and Manik. "Bring your Chacha and come. The table's all set."
"On our way, Chachi!" Manik calls back. I'm parking the trolley in one corner of the room as Manik steps in with Alya trailing behind. She takes hold of Manik's left hand, pulling him towards the other side of the dining table. I frown, glaring at the intimate contact their skin is making. Okay, it might not be that intimate. However, for an ex-couple it definitely reaches the height of intimacy in my books.
"Manik, let's sit here together." Alya says, nodding her head towards a chair. "Like we used to." Like we used to, excuse me? My dear cousin needs to wake up from the past and start living in the present, one which doesn't comprise of Manik and her as a couple. Through the corner of my eye, I notice Chachi's gaze fly over to me. Even a five year old in the room would be able to point out her inappropriate behavior, but of course Alya doesn't realize this.
Manik's eyes land on mine, his lips forming a tight line. I meet his gaze head on with a blank expression. I wish to see what his next step will be, without me leading him on in any way by showing my disapproval, or approval.
"Actually," Manik says, removing his hand from Alya's grasp. "I rather sit with my wife." His black orbs never once leave mine as he speaks. My husband's hands land on the backs of the two chairs Alya had so nicely picked out for them. "Angel and I will sit here. You can find another place at the table I'm sure."
I can't deny that I'm taken aback by Manik's words. I had cooked up a million answers of his in my head, and this was most certainly not one of them. Not even by a mile. Manik gives me an assured smile, as he pulls back a chair and seats himself.
"Come, Angel." He says, patting the empty seat beside him. I nod, smiling in return. This man never fails to surprise me. I make contact with Alya's eyes, the triumphant smile still lining my lips.
"Change is always good, Alya," I say. "Maybe you'd like to sit next to your mother for once, or maybe your dad." Her eyes stay glued to mine. I can tell she's cooking up a storm in her head, wondering if this is a war she will win. Unfortunately for her, she lost this one back when Manik's worth was miscalculated by her, which in return caused her to give him up.
Chachi clears her throat, the tension in the room palpable.
"Manik, we have a game for you." She says, clapping her hands together. I am feeling relieved because of Manik's reaction, but I still don't wish to play this game anymore. I mean, what if he gets it wrong? It'll be an embarrassment in front of Alya, and I can already imagine the smug smile she'll adorn on her pancaked face when that'll happen. I try my best to catch Manik's eye, so that I can tell him to say no. Alas, my idiotic husband nods eagerly, encouraging Chachi to further elaborate.
"Most of the dishes on this table have been made by me," Chachi continues. "But some have also been made by your wonderful wife." Chacha walks into the dining room right at this moment. Silently, he takes a seat at the head of the table, tuning into his wife's words as well. "The aim of this game is for you to try all of the dishes, and decide which have been made by Nandu. I'm sure after all these weeks of marriage you're used to her handmade meals."
"Let's do this!" Manik exclaims excitedly, rubbing his palms together. What in the world is he so thrilled about? Aiyappa, please don't let this end miserably. Today, however, one fact is confirmed; Manik and I don't share a telepathic connection. Otherwise he would understand just how much I hate the idea of this game and drop it altogether. His eyes scan all the dishes on the table, an eager glint shining in them.
I take a step closer to the table, hoping this movement will somehow catch his eye and Manik will look my way. At least I can drop a hint somehow as to which food item has been cooked by me.
"I'll begin with the meatballs," Manik announces. His fork breaks one into half, but just as the bite is about to go into his mouth, Alya points towards me accusingly.
"Nandini's trying to give Manik some signals!" She shakes her finger in my direction. I wince at her shrill voice, offering her my best bored expression.
"Alya, maybe cheating is the way you win all the games you play, but that's not how I roll," I say.
"Whatever," she stands up, placing her hands at my shoulders. She turns me around, making me face the wall. Alya presses her thumbs harshly into my skin, making me roughly shrug off her hold.
"I can keep myself in place just fine, Alya." I say through gritted teeth. God knows why I'm finding her this irritable today. Maybe my tolerance levels have dropped, or maybe she has turned into an even greater pain in the behind.
"Just helping out, Sis." Alya grumbles from behind me.
"Once I've finished all, I'll give my verdict." Manik says, his tone clearly indicating he's enjoying this game more than he should. Unable to control myself, I let a smile break out across my lips at my husband's childish nature.
"All done," Manik announces after a few minutes.
"Do you, perhaps, need some time to come to a final decision?" Alya asks. "In my opinion this game is challenging the limits of the impossible. How can one identify someone's cooking by taste testing mere dishes? It's not humanly possible." I roll my eyes at my cousin's pessimistic tone. Is it her duty to suck out all the fun from every possible situation?
"Actually it's not," Manik contradicts. "Upon trying some of these dishes I at once knew they were made by Angel." I smile once more, but this time it's clouded with nervousness. Aiyappa, I truly don't want him to get them wrong. Not when Alya's here to judge and point fingers. Of course I understand that I shouldn't be taking this game so seriously, but I am, and only He understands how desperately I wish to win.
Aiyappa, please bring about a miracle and make Manik magically point out the dishes I've made.
"Angel's overly gifted hands have made three dishes from the ones lying here," Manik continues. I squeeze my eyes shut, mentally face-palming myself. I only made two. What is wrong with him? "The first being the Thai curry." I nod my head in approval. Okay, we're off to a good start. Maybe if he singles out the two dishes I've made correctly, I can forgive him for mucking up as far as the third one's concerned. "The second one is the black pepper chicken." I smile, my fingers wounding the hem of my shirt tighter around my index finger. Stop, Manik. Don't say anything further. "And the rice."
I pout, rewinding to the hour that I spent in the kitchen. Indeed, I did make the rice, but how did Manik figure this out? Maybe he saw me when I was at work.
"Wait a minute," Alya says. Of course she'll open her mouth in protest. "Why are you saying the rice is made by Nandini? Doesn't all rice taste the same? I think you both are cheating." Yeah, Alya, there's a sign at the back of my head which is telling Manik all the answers.
"Angel has this habit of adding fennel seeds to the rice she makes," Manik explains. "I've tried rice made by many hands, and no one does it like her."
"I'm amazed, Manik." Chachi says, as I turn around, an ear to ear grin stretched across the length of my face. Only Aiyappa knows the great levels of joy that are filling my body at this moment. I doubt even I pay this much attention to minute details regarding Manik.
I shake my head in disbelief, a bark of laughter escaping my lips. Manik is watching me, an amused look lining his gaze. I grin at him, making my way towards the vacant seat at his side.
"You didn't think I'd get it right," Manik whispers, as I seat myself.
"No, I-I had complete faith in you." I lie, feigning innocence. He continues to watch me, his eyebrow cocked. Biting down on my lower lip, I shake my head, smiling at him apologetically. "I didn't."
"Angel, you've got to start having more faith in your dear husband." Manik teases, knocking his shoulder lightly against mine. I nod my head in agreement, my cheeks aching because of grinning for so long.
"You're the best," I say, my hand wrapping around his underneath the table. I give it a tight squeeze, my eyes landing on Alya. She's still standing, her eyes watching our every move.
"Swallow in the shock, Alya, and come join us." I say, nodding towards the empty seat opposite me. "Why don't you try out the dishes I made? I mean, I'm sure they're not ordinary ones if Manik can single them out from a bunch of others."
"I...I just remembered I have a...thing." Alya struggles to find words for the first time. "Um...I'm going to go." She pivots on her heels and stalks out of the dining room.