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“Forget about this. Tell me, how is the boutique going?” he asks as he looks up from his laptop.
“It’s good, keeping me on my toes.”
He nods his head. “And married life?” His lips draw in a thin line as if expecting the worst.
That’s Dad. He’s always worried about me and what’s happening in my life. But if I come to think about it, then Ranveer has given me no reason to fret over our marriage. In fact, he has gone out of his way to make me happy and helped me adjust in the new house. What’s more, him being there at my parents’ house meant a lot to me. Sometimes, it’s these little things that make a huge difference. But will things continue to work for better or is this temporary? That’s the question which keeps hovering in my mind.
“Good,” I just give a one-word answer and don’t say anything else. This is the best I can do with all the jumble jigsaw pieces in my head. His scrutinising gaze is trying to look into what I haven’t said, but I maintain a straight face, not letting the turmoil reflect on my face.
For the next forty-five minutes, we let the silence fall between us as we concentrate on the work at hand, and before I know, we are done with most of the paperwork. I’ve actually done really well today, and I’m mentally giving myself a high five.
“Alisha, I am worried about you.” His voice is low and thick.
I glance up to see the lines of worry across his forehead.
“Dad, trust me, I am content with my life and have no complains.” I try to reassure him.
“But I can’t let my mind rest thinking about the circumstances under which you had to get married. This is not how your mom and I wished your marriage to be,” he grunts as he slams down his laptop.
“Maybe this is what was written in my fate. And like you always say, fate is pre-determined, and we can’t fight it. But for sure we can make the best out of it. And that’s exactly what I am doing. There is nothing about my future which scares me, because I know that when my world goes out of control, you will be right there to save me. So please, Dad, stop fretting over me and just stand by me like you have always done.” He opens his mouth to argue but I hold up my hands. “Before you argue further, you need to leave. It’s getting late, past your bedtime.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “Don’t you think I should be using that line? I am the father here.”
“Yeah, but you did promise me that you will let me handle this my way and won’t interfere.”
“So why do I have to leave for that? I can still stay with you and be invisible. In fact, I will go check on the bar while you do the paperwork. And then we both can leave together,” Dad offers.
Since evening, I have been observing that he is not his usual self. He has worn himself out, worrying himself sick, thinking about the bar and me. He needs rest. But I know my dad; he is too proud to ask that.
I shake my head. “No, you are leaving. I have my car and will be safe. Also, I want to check on the staff without your scrutinising eye. Please, Dad, let me handle this and don’t make me feel like a baby.”
“Fine, you win, like always,” he says as he climbs to his feet and suppresses a wince as he walks up to me. “Stay in my office, away from trouble, and no stepping in the bar area. As soon as you leave, let me know and also drop me a message once you reach home.” Bending down, he gives me a kiss before leaving.
I smile and wave him bye. Today did turn out to be more fruitful than I had expected. I think with a few changes here and there, I can help Dad turn around the tables and help him bring in profits. I am about to pick up the phone to call our manager to check with the status of the crowd when there is a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I say, as Lisa, our head server enters.
“I am sorry but we are in a soup. One of our waitresses had to leave early due to a family emergency, and we are full today,” she informs me, as she wrings her hands while standing in front of my desk.
“We don’t have anyone covering for her?”
“No,” she replies with a sigh, weariness in her aged black eyes.
“No worries, I will take her place today,” I state, as I rise on my feet.
“Are you sure?” she questions, looking at me in surprise.
“Yes, now we don’t have time to go back and forth about it. Just lead the way and show me what I need to do.”
She gives me an appreciative nod and fills me in with my job role as we walk through the hallway. I nod. Deep breathe. I have got this. Sure, I am edgy. I haven’t waited tables ever, but I have no choice.
Pushing the door open, we step in the backroom. Lisa holds a white silk shirt with the company logo on the front with a black knee-length skirt. I quickly take the uniform and enter the attached bathroom to change. After slipping into it, I hesitate as I look at my reflection in the mirror. I bite my lower lip, feeling uncomfortable to be dressed like this. Shunning all thoughts, I shake my head as I tie my apron around my waist and walk out of the washroom.
Lisa walks me through the bar area as I look around to see it fairly crowded for a Friday night. I am proud of Dad,who has fended this far all by himself.From the lazy spin of the fans, to the recumbent light of eventide, the bar soaks in the ambiance of a pleasant night.
My first table is a young couple, who orders pizza with coke. Moving to my next section, I notice two guys sitting there. Trouble is imprinted on their forehead with a capital T.
“Welcome, gentlemen. Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, handing each one a menu.
