We put down a deposit. The mehendi was on!
Vinnie had to drive my car because my hand was covered in slowly drying green paste. The design was amazing, though. When we were little, Mom bought us premade cones of mehendi at the Indian grocery store and we tried doing our own henna. It isn’t too hard, actually, if you have patience, a steady hand, and a good eye for design. We weren’t as good as Usha and the other mehendi ladies, of course—there’s a reason they charge the rates they do.
And it was so weird to me that the mehendi was not an essential part of TamBrahm weddings. In Punjab, where our family is from, get her hands colored is a phrase synonymous with getting a girl married. Not something that can be skipped.
“So your SAT and all your AP and SAT subject tests are in the bag, right?” Vinnie said as she drove. “Have you started on your essays?”
Vinnie had written an amazing essay about Mom back when she applied. That was definitely not something I was going to do. The medical stuff was irrelevant for me, unlike Vinnie, and I didn’t want a pity party.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” I said. I had made no progress whatsoever in coming up with ideas for my essays.
“You should at least think about it.” Vinnie frowned. “Next thing you know you’ll be staring at deadlines and have to rush to get them in.”
“Okay, fine,” I grumbled. Vinnie always checked on me, however busy she was. When I was freaking out about taking AP World History, my first AP, she talked me down from rescheduling it. This was when she was dealing with taking the USMLE Step 2 and actually doing rounds in hospitals and stuff.
By the time we got home, the paste was nearly dry. Good thing too, because I had to get changed. What was good enough for the Iyers and the mehendi lady was not good enough for River Bend. Because Vir was going to be there. So far I’d only run into him by accident, but this time I knew I’d see him.
Get a grip, I told myself, it’s no big deal.
I had the henna thing going on, so I thought I’d rock the bohemian look. A swingy summery sundress, dangle earrings, a stack of bright bangles, strappy sandals, a dash of lip gloss, and I was set.
Chapter Thirteen
We were an hour early for our meeting at River Bend, because I wanted Vinnie to see the Italian Garden while it was lit up with the afternoon sun.
The beautiful fountain, the formal flower beds, the Greek goddess sculptures, the brick patio with its carved wood railing—all looked outstanding at that time of day. The old mansion (in bad need of restoration and crumbling on the inside, sadly) made the garden even more regal and Bollywood wedding–ish. I had taken lots of pictures for Vinnie before we booked the place, of course, but it wasn’t like being there.
“I love it, Mini!” Vinnie said.
Whew!
We had just gotten back to the Carriage House, where we were to meet everyone, when Vir drove up! In, of all things, an Indian-built hybrid—a Mirchandani Mirage.
He looked incredibly nice in khakis and a linen shirt. I’d only seen him in shorts (or pajamas!) before—and dressed up, he looked, if possible, more gorgeous.
“Vinnie, this is Vir,” I said with impressive calm. “Vir, my sister, Vinnie.”
“Dr. Yashasvini Kapoor, right?” he said with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“And I’d heard nothing about you before yesterday,” Vinnie said. “Strange, huh?” But she smiled at him anyway.
I really should have given her a heads-up about Vir before she landed, I guess. I nearly did the day I called to tell her about my SAT score, but then I ended up not.
“So how did Mini find you?”
“I just, um… ran into him,” I said.
“Literally!” Vir said. The memory seemed to amuse him.
“And where did you run into him?” Vinnie raised an eyebrow.
“Near Lake Waban,” I said, answering with geographical precision.
“The first time, Yogi was chasing Roshan, my mum’s cat,” Vir said. “And then another time, Mini lost her k—”
“Way!” I said hurriedly. “I lost my way! While walking Yogi!” I’d kept the losing-my-keys episode under wraps so far. I’d never hear the end of it if it all came out. “And Vir showed me how to get back to the lake trail,” I finished.
“Exactly!” Vir said, covering for me. “The trails can be really confusing.”
“How do you know the trails so well?” Vinnie said. “Do you live around here? Doesn’t sound like it by your accent!”
Wow, Vinnie was totally grilling the guy! I turned my back on Vir and gave her the Look. Vinnie ignored me.
“It’s British, I’m afraid,” Vir said. “I lived there until seventh grade, and I think it’s permanent.”
“His mom is the dean of Fellsway,” I said. “She’s amazing!”
“Oh, nice!” Vinnie said. “Have you met her?”
“No,” I said, at the same time as Vir said, “Not yet!”
“Uh-huh!” Vinnie said thoughtfully. “Funny what you miss when you don’t live in the same state anymore!”
“Cool ride, by the way,” I said, changing the subject. “I didn’t even know you could get these things in the US.”
“It’s my mum’s car,” Vir explained. “She’s pretty committed to being green.”
“But how did you even import an Indian model here?” I asked. “Mirchandani Motors is Indian, isn’t it?”
Vir waved a hand vaguely. “It was a gift from—the Indian embassy, I think? She didn’t have to deal with bringing it over.”
“That’s awesome!” I said. “Bet Dad would love to take a look at it!”
“I’ll bring it around if you like,” Vir said immediately. “I’d like to meet him again anyway.”
“Again?” Vinnie asked, eyebrow hitched to her hairline once more.
“Yeah, we met at the British car show,” Vir said.
“Really?” Vinnie said.
“There’s Shoma Moorty!” I spotted a four-wheel-drive in the distance.
“I’ll go look at the power outlets in the
