Sold Short (Sidelined Book 3) Read online

  They laughed. He’d said that out loud.

  “It’s my ultrasound,” Ana said, and everyone moved, spoke at once. Connor pausing the recording, Alex taking his feet off the coffee table, Gavin standing.

  “We all went with her,” said Gavin. He pointed at the TV. “That’s my kid.”

  “Fucking awesome,” said Alex. He laughed, “Going to have to learn to watch my language.”

  Dev didn’t know where to focus: at Ana whose eyes glittered, at the still picture on the screen, at Connor who had his legs tangled with Ana’s and his hands laced across her middle.

  He wanted to know how these kids did it. How they held it together as a group, didn’t descend into the reality of blame and jealousy, didn’t split apart because that would be the easiest thing to do.

  “You’re all okay?” He said that aloud as well, his incredulity getting the better of him. Watching them was like time traveling to the beginning of everything he’d shared with Sarina, Owen and Reid. They’d had this same ease and trust and a casual assumption they could control what happened in their lives. He saw that now for the idealism of youth, for the hubris of it. Some things you couldn’t control for, particularly your own failings. Sometimes it wasn’t better because you were together, it was worse.

  “We’re good,” said Connor. “And Ana is amazing.”

  The guy wanted to be a lawyer, not an actor. Why would he fake how he looked at Ana? Connor was free and clear, not a shred of responsibility, he could walk away. It was Dev who shared an actor’s name, but none of the skill to continue to make-believe.

  “Will I tell him, Ana?” said Gavin.

  She nodded. “So, ah, Dev. I have a trust fund. I spoke to my parents and we want to set aside money for Ana and the baby so she can get the help she needs and doesn’t have to rely on you.”

  Dev frowned. Ana and the baby didn’t need money, but Gavin was the baby’s dad, so he got to have a say. He took his cue from Ana, who smiled broadly. Connor had another reason to back away, and maybe he still would, but for now, Ana was cared for. These men were doing a better job of this than he would’ve in the same circumstances, a better job than he was doing in his own. A better job than his own father was doing.

  He nodded, not trusting what might come out of his mouth. He’d feed everyone, use his hands instead, use the time to collect himself. He’d virtually lied to his partners today, to the friends he trusted most, needed most, and he didn’t understand why, except that maybe it was time to grow up and move on.

  “Do you want to know the baby’s sex?” said Ana.

  “You can tell?” Too many shocks today, his absorption capacity was all used up.

  Gavin started to explain how 4D ultrasounds worked and Dev watched the recording replayed from the beginning. The peanut had arms and legs and squirmed around a lot, it was recognizably a human thing. When the black and white turned to a gold color, he took an involuntary step forward, the peanut was a tiny person, you could see eyes and nose and . . . holy shit.

  They laughed, so he’d spoken aloud again. His eyes were hot. He could see . . . “Is it a boy?”

  “It’s a boy,” Ana said.

  He watched that tape a dozen more times and each time it was a little less freaky knowing he had a nephew, then Rani arrived, and they started all over again. One of the girls called Shush and she brought champagne and cigars, and he cooked up a storm, thinking about what his parents were missing out on. This was finally the celebration a new life deserved.

  Alex helped in the kitchen, Gavin kept them entertained and Connor looked at Ana as if she was his sunrise and sunset, and all the instances in between, and when the meal was done, when everyone had gone except Connor, Dev got in the hired car he hated and drove to his parents.

  It was late, but they’d be awake watching Jimmy Fallon.

  He knocked. He had a key but no interest in using it. His father answered, wearing a sad set of sweats and slippers. His TV-watching look.

  “Dev, what’s wrong? Why are you here?”

  “I have something I want you to see.”

  “It’s late.”

  He pushed past his father. “It won’t take a minute.”

  Ten to be precise, multiplied by how many times you wanted to watch the formation of your first grandkid.

  “Is that Dev?” Mom in her pjs and robe. “Dear, why are you here so late? Ana? Is everything all right with Ana?”

  “Ana is fine.” Was it Mom’s fault she was obedient to her husband? That she wouldn’t rock the boat to the point it took on water. Who would she have chosen to marry if not Dad? “Ana is great.” Not a single sign of sickness or tiredness or anything to slow her up, except the need to undo buttons and waistbands.

  “So what?” said Dad, followed by, “We’re watching that,” as Dev stood in front of the TV to find the slot for a USB stick.

  “Watch this instead.” He grabbed the remote and toggled the screen, started the video playing.

  “Oh.” Mom sat abruptly, knocking against the small side table that held her pot of tea, the crockery clinking, tea sloshing in the saucer. She knew exactly what she was seeing and covered her mouth with her hands.

  “What is this, Dev?”

  Dad knew, he had to know what he was seeing. But he kept looking at Dev instead of the screen. “Watch it, Dad.”

  “I don’t want to see it.”

  Mom had tears on her cheeks. Dev pointed at the screen, “That is Ana’s baby. Your grandkid.”

  Dad looked away. It was the longest ten minutes. When the screen went black, Mom stood. “Vik, this stops now. I am not missing out on this. I’m not letting our daughter do this alone.”

  “She’s not alone,” Dev said.

  “She needs her mother,” Mom snapped. “This is nonsense. I don’t care what people think.”

  “You will care when all the aunties and uncles whisper behind your back. What will your mother say?”

  “I’ll be holding my grandson, so I won’t give one tealeaf for what the gossips think and my mother will think it’s a blessing.”

  “Grandson?”

  “Yes, you fool, that’s your grandson, Ana’s baby. Play it again, Dev.”

  This time Dad watched. And the time after that and a third time. Then Mom called Ana, and there were tears, certainly at this end, but knowing Ana, there were tears back at his place too.

  But it wasn’t enough and when Dad wouldn’t take the phone to talk to Ana, Dev had a choice. Let it go, trust that eventually he’d thaw, or turn the heat up.

  Today he’d confessed his love for a woman who planned to have someone else’s baby. He’d had to force himself to drive here instead of to Sarina’s place to be with her, to take her to bed again, so Mom and Dad better get used to nontraditional family arrangements with partners, outside the standard mean for Patels. He unpacked his flamethrower.

  “Gavin is the baby’s father. He’s making money available for Ana, so she won’t need you, Dad, if that’s what you’re worried about. Connor loves Ana and he’ll be there for her. Ana has me and Rani and Shush and Mom, so you know what, she doesn’t need you. She didn’t plan this, but it’s happening. You get to choose to be part of it or to value what other people think more.”

  He was warming his argument up when Mom cut in—her heat wand was thermo-nuclear.

  “If you choose to keep shunning your daughter you can start fending for yourself, Vik. I chose you because you’re a good man, because I hoped we might make a good life here together and we have. We have incredible children, they’re smart and kind and we could not have wished for better. I love you, but I don’t love this, and I won’t have it. Our life has been made along your plans and I went along with them, but I’m not part of this arrangement.”

  Dad shouted. “What are you saying, woman? Are you saying you’ll leave me?”

  “No, fool. We’re having an argument. The worst we have ever had. I’m saying I can’t cook and clean for you, sleep beside you and be
happy if you shun our daughter and our grandson. You think Ana ruined our family, I’m telling you a different story. You are ruining our family. All those years ago I chose you, because you were stubborn and I knew you would fight hard to succeed. Now I’m telling you to be flexible, I’m asking you to choose family over pride and appearances.”

  Burn it all down, Mom, burn it all down.

  “And don’t look at Dev.” She went on. “He doesn’t love Shush and he has no interest in marrying to please you, because we raised him to think for himself.”

  “But we know him better and Shush is good for him. She is the right choice. It’s time he got serious.”

  Dad’s don’t mess with me stare was a lock. Time to get serious indeed. “I’m in love with Sarina.”

  Dad turned away, but not before Dev registered his displeasure. Sarina wasn’t a nice Indian girl from a family they knew. She was an aggressive American girl; too white, too wild and too disrespectful. She was a girl with no culture, an unsuitable daughter-in-law. Mom’s eye’s popped. Ana would’ve told her about Sarina.

  Might as well turn the ashes to salt.

  “She’s going to have a baby with a donor and I’m going to be the best friend I can to her.”

  “What is this nonsense? This woman—”

  “Sarina. My business partner, my best friend, the woman I love.”

  “This woman is having someone else’s baby and you want to be in her life. Have you lost your bloody mind?”

  Lost and finally found. He stared his father down till Vikram grunted and left the room and Mom took him by the shoulders. “Sarina has been your friend a long time, are you sure you love her?”

  “How did you know you loved Dad?”

  She raised her voice so the man of the hour in the other room could hear. “Don’t ask me that tonight, because he’s not lovable when he doesn’t respect his family.”

  But he had to know, after all these years of assuming his parents were a love match and learning they’d not started that way. “Mom?”

  “I didn’t know, Dev. I hoped it might happen and I was lucky it did. For so many couples it happens the other way around. They can’t keep their love alive through all the troubles life sends them.”

  “I’ve loved Sarina since we first met, but I didn’t understand I was in love with her.”

  “Being in love can be frightening. For a long time, I was scared of disappointing your father. I was a stupid woman for not speaking my mind. I made myself sick with the grief of that.”

  “But you’re not frightened anymore?”

  “No, because he has disappointed me, and I’m the fool because I still love him. If you love Sarina and she loves you,” she patted his cheek, “you will work it out together, no matter how difficult it is.”

  All he could do was trust his mother knew best.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  London came with jet lag. Sarina arrived the evening of the day she started out, and that had to be the reason a week later she still felt the effects of sleep deprivation.

  Or maybe it was the fact that everyone spoke English but didn’t necessarily mean what they said. So far she’d learned the expression “leave it with me” sometimes meant “I have no idea what I’m doing,” and when someone said “this could’ve been better,” they invariably meant it was a disaster from start to finish. Also the meaning of “we’ll see” could signify a range of things from “you’re wrong” to “I don’t know what else to say.” It could also mean “absolutely not.” In the same way that the expression “not quite what I had in mind” meant “what the bleeding hell is this.”

  In the London office, people were forever popping off somewhere and describing situations as not too bad, which meant good. She felt like she’d settled in the day she was invited to pop out for a quick one, which wasn’t as rude as it sounded and meant “we quite like you, come to the pub and drink until you’re legless,” which she took to mean can’t walk without falling out of your shoes.

  She also learned that if someone said “it’s fine,” they were usually very annoyed. The expression made her think of Dev. He was the walking equivalent of it’s fine, when he often wanted to say something more like I hate this with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

  Her very presence in London made people say it’s fine quite a lot. But there wasn’t much she could do about that. The reason she was there was to create change and that made people nervous, which lead to a lot of tea drinking and an understanding of the expression “collywobbles.”

  She had a severe case of the collywobbles over Dev. He’d asked for distance and it was hard to imagine how she could’ve given him more, but she had the worst feeling, like a stomachache that wouldn’t ease, that time apart wasn’t what they needed. Emotional distance from each other was what led her to deciding to build a family on her own.

  At the end of week two in London, the nagging jet lag became a rampant head cold, complete with creaking bones and a sandpaper throat. She coughed so hard her ribs hurt. She was told she had a “lurgy” and must feel “beastly” and should stay in bed until she didn’t feel so “zonked.” Also there was “nowt”, which meant nothing, she could do about it except stay away from the office until she felt less “peaky.”

  All that translated into almost a week during which she barely left her hotel room except to pop to the shops for supplies. She simply wanted to go home and feel a bit rough, as the Brits called it, in her own bed with the knowledge Dev would make her soup, take her temperature, cluck over her and bring her news of the outside world, but she wasn’t finished with her analysis and with her sinus’ blocked there was no flying until she could breathe clearly.

  She wanted to see Dev regardless of soup. She wanted to see him in her bed not her kitchen, undressed and impolite and far less gentle than he normally was. She started a dozen messages to him, dialed his number and didn’t wait for it to connect. Stared at the cute cartoon avatar of him until she was cross-eyed. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder. It made hers wage an internal war, one moment elated and excited, almost sweaty thinking about being with Dev, the other anxious and wary and so worried she’d blown it all up. Absence was inconvenient and beastly.

  She’s been in London a month when they decided to do the merger, which meant staying another two weeks, or a fortnight as the Brits called it, to commence the amalgamation of the two businesses.

  She touched down in San Francisco six weeks to the day Dev had told her he needed time. Six weeks during which they hadn’t spoken, except during teleconferences with Reid and Owen in the room; the first one a few days after she’d arrived, when Arik formally quit to join Alternate. Six weeks during which she’d been ill and recovered, scared herself half to death with a missed period and took a pregnancy test only to have it come out negative.

  She should’ve felt relieved about that. Joyous. It was a clean slate. A fair chance to start again with Dev. But there was irrational disappointment as well, or maybe it was homesickness. She could hardly wait to see him, the need a steady flame primed to become an out of control fire the moment they were alone. Tea candle to forest blaze.

  Arriving Sunday afternoon, she caught a cab straight to her parents’ and unloaded presents of tea, shortbreads and chocolates. She also had English soccer shirts for Dad, Brian and Ro and a Union Jack apron for Mom.

  On her third chocolate, Ro said, “Did you get a secret boob job while on Her Majesty’s Service?”

  She’d lost weight; a result of being ill, and using the hotel gym daily when she wasn’t because it eased the loneliness. “Yup.” It was easier than arguing.

  Ro eye-rolled and reached for shortbread. Dad left to go fishing. Mom made coffee. “Are you sure you’re well?” she said. “Your hair is very dry.”

  She blamed the water, the flight, she was tired, but that was to be expected and she had some unusual aches and pains, and if her boobs looked bigger it was because of the weight loss. “I’m not pregnant.”
<
br />   “You’re sure?” said Mom.

  “Took a test. It was negative. Ninety-five percent accurate.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Yes,” said Ro.

  “No.” But she’d need to tell Dev. It’s just that she wanted to be sure and any day now her period would arrive as confirmation. Airline travel had thrown her schedule off before, that’s likely all that was happening to make her edgy about it now.

  “I slept with Dev.” She had to tell someone. “It wasn’t planned, we fell into it and it was wrong.”

  “What was wrong about it?” said Mom. “Two consenting adults and he’s a gorgeous boy, those eyes. If I was younger, I’d eat him up. Always thought you two did it anyway.”

  “Mom,” said Ro, managing to project the appropriate amount of not in front of the grossed-out adult children into the word.

  “There’s a possibility I could’ve gotten pregnant.”

  “No raincoat and in your fertile period.” Mom shook her head. She’d certainly taught them better.

  “Jesus, Sarina. I’m guessing the wrong part is he didn’t know the risk,” said Ro.

  “I wasn’t explicit about it.” It was a saving grace she didn’t need to live out the deceit.

  Until Mom put a Reuben sandwich in front of her and she nearly gagged on the sauerkraut and knew she needed to take the test again.

  TWENTY-SIX

  It’s said the Titanic sank for lack of a pair of binoculars and the Berlin Wall was torn down because a politician gave an off the cuff answer and people went crazy and dismantled it brick by brick. Human error had been known to change the course of history and it almost changed Ana’s.

  In this case, it was a simple switcheroo. Two tired siblings, one of whom was pregnant and emotional, the other who’d just had the best sex of his life with someone probably pregnant to another man, and wasn’t equipped for very early morning revelations.

  And Gavin’s blood test result mistakenly sealed in Connor’s envelope.