But that feeling only grows with every word I hear him speak, his voice warm and friendly. With the way he laughs at someone else’s words. With the way he watches Maggie, an open, tender expression on his face. With the wry smile he sends Jacob’s way when it’s time for him to give his toast.
I finish off the rest of my drink as Jacob gets up. His tall frame towers over all of us for a second before he walks to the front of the room, a microphone in hand.
I look around the table, then around the room, at Maggie’s relatives, my father’s colleagues, their mutual friends. I always thought my father was an aloof sort of man. He was this faraway figure for most of my life, and even when we spent time together in person, he was distant. I assumed that was just the way he was, but he’s at home here with these people. He’s comfortable with them in a way he never has been with me. Or my mother.
My throat closes. I reach for my glass, thankful to find it’s been refilled, and swallow.
But it doesn’t help. When I look at Jacob, my vision swims, tears threatening to spill, but I rein it in, pressing my fingernails into the palm of my hand.
Not here. Not now.
Jacob taps a spoon against his glass, and the chattering in the room comes to a stop.
“Thank you, everyone,” he says. “I know most of you, but I still want to introduce myself. I’m Jacob Cherian, and I’ve known Maggie Chapman for twenty-nine years. I barely remember a time in my life without Maggie and the Chapmans in it. Most of you know that James, Maggie’s son, and I were good friends. We met at school when we were just six, but it was our mothers who were friends first.”
He looks down for a moment, then directly at Maggie. “My mother was brilliant and funny and kind, but sometimes, it felt like other people couldn’t see that. When we first moved here, she had a hard time making friends of her own, getting to know the other mothers at the school. Everything had been new to her, a new country, a new system, and no one really seemed to understand that. She used to say that people would look right past her. But Maggie never did.” Jacob smiles then, and it’s genuine, but there’s strain there too, as if his muscles are working overtime.
“The Chapmans became my second family. Maggie, my secondmom. James, a—a brother.” His voice breaks, and he stops to clear his throat. “And James would have been so proud today. To see Maggie find the kind of love and support she’s always shown others. To see her accept it and choose her own happiness. And I know you know this, but James loved you, Ajit. I don’t know if he knew that this was the role you would one day have in this family, but I think he would have been so happy to see it happen.
“My parents had a beautiful partnership, and the way you and Maggie are with each other reminds me of them. It’s the kind of love that’s strong and steadfast and deeply rooted. Not easily swayed or moved. After losing my parents, I never expected to see something like that again, but I have. And even more, I’ve gotten to be on the receiving end ofyourlove, to feel once more what it means to be loved by parents, to be part of a family.” His eyes glisten. “You have both been there for me through so many hard, dark times these past few years, and it has been a gift to see the way you are both there for each other. So, to Maggie and Ajit.” He raises his glass. “May we all show up for our loved ones the way you do. May we learn from the love you share, and may it continue for years and years to come.”
Glasses clink all around me, and though I can see my tablemates have lifted theirs, I make no move to do the same.
Because what in the hell wasthat?
I can understand Jacob’s loyalty to Maggie, how someone like her could be deserving of it. But my father? What about him screams “strong” and “steadfast”? “Rooted,” perhaps, in the sense that he refused to leave Scotland, even when it meant losing my mother. Even when it meant losing me.
Andshowing up? He certainly didn’t do that. Maybe he couldn’t be there for me in person, but surely he could have done better than occasional transatlantic trips and bland phone calls. This speech sure makes it sound like he can do better. That hehas,in fact, done better.
It’s a shocking realization. My father is capable of doing thesethings. Of being present and supportive, and showing love. He can do those things for others. He just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do those things for me.
I’m stewing, lost in thought, until a soft voice pulls me out of it.
“Neelu?” my dad asks. His glass is extended toward me. From his expression, it’s clear he’s been waiting for me to respond for a little while. “Is everything—”
I tap my glass against his. “Congratulations,” I say. But I hear the bitter undertone in the word, even though I tried to suppress it, and from the way my father’s forehead creases, I know he heard it too.
His face dims, and from across the table, Jacob clocks it as he slides back into his seat. His eyes bounce from my father to me, his expression growing dark.
He glowers at me, but I ignore him, raising my glass to my lips, not setting it down until I’ve swallowed the last drop.
6
“We never expected Brittany M. to end up with Mikey!” Maggie exclaims. “It seemed so clear that he wasn’t there for the right reasons.”
I smile, every muscle in my body relaxed and loose. “He’s not such a bad guy,” I say. “And this is a secret right now, but he’s planning to propose soon.”
“No!”
“Yes! We’re going to fly them out and film the whole thing next season.” It’s one of my favorite parts of working on the show. Despite what people may think, many of the contestants do genuinely find love. I’ve attended dozens of weddings of couples who would never have met if not for the show. Some of them even have kids now.
“Well, your dad and I will be watching it,” Maggie says.
The room tilts a bit, and I lean back against the wall, trying to get my footing.
Maggie puts a hand on my arm. “You feeling okay?”
I nod. I switched to water a few minutes ago, having recognized that I’d overdone it, but I’m not quite back to normal yet.
