“We’re combining them,” I said. “And having it at home! Unless you think your girlfriends won’t want to do the mehendi?”
“Oh, they will!” Vinnie said. “But won’t it be expensive?”
“Sher-e-Punjab is giving us a great rate,” I said. “And the mehendi lady’s rate isn’t bad either.”
“We can’t fit everyone into the house!” Vinnie said.
“I’ll get tables and chairs from Talbot Rental. There’s plenty of room if we set them up outdoors,” I said. We had a one-acre yard, much of it level enough for tables.
“TamBrahms don’t do mehendi,” Vinnie said.
“We do!” I said, and set my jaw stubbornly. I was not budging on this one, Iyers or no Iyers. There was no way we were skipping it.
“Okay, fine—let’s do it,” Vinnie said. “If you think it’ll fit in Dad’s budget. By the way, who’s coming to River Bend? Is it just the decorator and the caterer?”
“And Vir…,” I added. “I mean, the sound and light guy. I haven’t hired him yet, but he said he had to take a look at the venue to give me a proper quote on the lighting and all.”
“All right,” Vinnie said. It’s a testament to how distracted she was that she didn’t pick up on how awkward I sounded when I mentioned Vir.
“I don’t even know if I should hire him, but he’s really, really cheap,” I said in a burst of guilt.
“Mini, is he cute or something?” Vinnie asked, finally clueing in.
“No!” I said, but my face was flaming red.
“Really?” Vinnie raised an eyebrow. “We will see!”
Chapter Twelve
The Iyers—Ragini Iyer, PhD, and Venkat Iyer, JD, PhD—lived on Commonwealth Avenue in Newton in a pretty little colonial with well-maintained rosebushes currently in full bloom outside, books stacked on every available bit of space, and musical instruments—both Indian and Western—scattered throughout the house. The instruments looked well used—seemed like anyone in that family could pick up any of those and play at a pro level, including Manish and his sister.
“Come in, come in.” Mrs. Iyer was the tiniest woman I’d ever met. Vinnie at least didn’t tower over her, but Dad and I definitely did. “Sooo nice to see Vinnie’s family.” I hunched down automatically—Dad did not.
Mr. Iyer stepped out from behind her. “Welcome, welcome,” he said, beaming. Awww. He had the sweetest face. Manish obviously got his charm from his dad.
Dad was trying not to scowl, or step on an instrument or book or something. He looked like a bull in a china shop. Along with the instruments, there were also brass statues of Ganesh, and Laxmi, and various other deities. They were adorned with fresh flowers and kumkum, so clearly the Iyers were believers. Dad’s scowl deepened even more.
“Heyyy!” There was Manish. He put an arm around each of his parents. I had thought he was of medium height, but he was clearly the tallest person in this family.
“We got you some flowers.” Vinnie looked lovely in the salwar kameez I’d fitted for her. It was a gift from Mallu Masi for me when I was fourteen. I was way too tall for it by then, but she had no clue, unsurprisingly. But after I tweaked it a little it fit Vinnie’s petite frame perfectly. It wasn’t one of Masi’s couture pieces, just something sweet and summery that she had specially made for me when she still bothered doing such things.
“Yashasvini, you look so pretty!” Mrs. Iyer said. “I’ve never seen you in Indian clothes. You should wear them more often—they suit you!”
“Thank you,” Vinnie said. “Can I help with the food or anything?”
“No, no,” Mrs. Iyer said. “I want to tell you, Mr. Kapoor—Vinod, isn’t it?” She looked at Dad for confirmation.
“Yes,” he said.
“I want to tell you, Vinod, that we’re so glad these two found each other,” she said. “We’ve had so many proposals for Manish.…”
“Mom,” Manish said.
“It’s true,” she said. “So many people had sent proposals from our community, you know, but he had decided long back that it was Yashasvini and no one else for him.”
Dad cleared his throat. “I think they’re going a little fast myself,” he said. “I tried to talk some sense into them. Why not wait and finish with their residencies before getting married?”
“Very correct,” Mr. Iyer said, in brotherly solidarity. “I was thinking that also.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Iyer. And it was suddenly crystal clear who was boss. “There is never a good time to get married. This way they can start a family when they’re done with residency.”
Dad looked like he was about to explode.
“Yeah, yeah,” Manish said. He didn’t seem at all upset about his mom’s comment. “We’ll decide that, okay, Mom? Let’s just take it one step at a time.”
“Ragini Aunty,” I said, “we’ve booked the River Bend reservation for the wedding.”
“Yes, Manish told me,” she said. “It sounds very nice.”
“We’re thinking of booking Curry Cuisine to cater.”
“Curry Cuisine is exccccellent,” Mrs. Iyer said, brightening up. “They catered for our daughter’s wedding. That Sunny Sondhi makes better payasam than anyone. So delicious. He did a great job for Mohini’s wedding. We had three priests and four hundred people. It was a very grand wedding, very grand.”
Her enthusiasm made me smile. Would Mom have been that stoked for Vinnie’s wedding?
“We’re getting Shoma Moorty to do the wedding decorations,” I added when she paused for breath.
“Shoma is my oooold friend,” Ragini Aunty said. “We’ve known her so long, since when Manish was a baby. Manish is like a son to her. She did the decorations for Mohini’s wedding too. We had a grand entrance and a huge mandap—it could fit eight people—did I mention?”
“Yes, you did,” I assured her. “Aunty, we were thinking of having Krishna Ji from the Sri Balaji temple in Sherwood to perform the ceremony.”
“Krishna Ji is wonderful, of course, but how about Sundaraman?” Ragini Aunty asked. “Manish really likes him. He always said to Manish that I will be the one to marry you.”
“We’ve known Krishna Ji a long time,” Vinnie said
