Five-Thirty AM - XV

It had been a difficult week for Mitul. She’d thrown herself maniacally into her work. She jogged or worked out every morning, and was at her desk by seven. She worked almost non-stop till seven in the evening when her brain seemed as if it were short circuited. Then watched some mind-numbing TV (she made sure to avoid the Hindi channels), while she ate dinner and went to bed by ten, only to wake up blearily at five in the morning and do it all over again. Just as long as she had no time to think of a pair of green eyes, or conjure up a husky voice saying, ‘Go ahead’ in her head.

The good thing was, her mushy romance was complete and sent off to her publisher.

The bad thing was she hadn’t written a word more on Noel’s biography and Joyce was starting to get a little annoyed about it.

Today was Saturday, and Piya-Jiya had insisted she give it a rest. They had practically ordered her to be at their place by mid-morning and stay there for the rest of the weekend. And so here she was, overnight bag in hand, ringing the doorbell to the Puri’s house.

Piya opened the door, squealed, ‘Mitul!’ and drew her in a tight hug, before leading her in.

‘Mitul, dear, how are you?’ her maasi gave her the once over. She looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and they looked puffy. ‘Haven’t you been sleeping?’ she asked.

‘No, maasi,’ she replied, while Piya took her bag upstairs. ‘I had a deadline to meet and I was working on completing it.'

‘Mitul,’ this time it was Jiya who walked into the room and hugged her.

She’d brought in glasses of lemonade and they settled down for a good conversation. Mitul opened her large handbag and pulled out two gift wrapped boxes for the girls. Each contained a pair of delicate Native American silver earrings. To her maasi, she handed over a paper bag containing her favorite chipotle sauce and a tub of jalapeno jelly.

Mitul knew Noel’s name would come up at some point, and she’d prepared herself for it. Diversionary tactics were called for to delay the inevitable. So she started off the conversation.

‘Maasi, tell me. Have the wedding dates for Piya and Jiya been set?’

‘Yes, dear. We decided that since both got engaged so close to each other, we’d also have their weddings together as close as possible. But the two of them wanted a double wedding, so that’s what its going to be.’

She hugged her cousins in delight. ‘When?’

‘In about two months,’ said her maasi, beaming. She looked at her two daughters and there was a wistful look on her face as she realized that they would both be moving out of the house so soon together.

‘Are we having the weddings here or back in India?’ asked Mitul.

‘The weddings will be in India, but the registration will be here,’ said her maasi. ‘Next Friday. So you have to be there, too.’

‘Of course I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Where’s the registration?’

‘City Hall. Nathan Philips Square,’ said Piya.

‘We have a ten a.m. appointment with the registrar,’ Jiya finished the sentence.

‘Great! and the Indian weddings?’

‘Will be in Mumbai. Since most of our relatives, as well as Rajan’s and Anuj’s folks are there, we thought it best to have the weddings in Mumbai itself,’ Mrs. Puri said.

‘Yes!’ Mitul laughed out loud. ‘I’m so glad. We have to start shopping soon, maasi. Or have you girls already started without me?’

‘How could we do that, Mitul?’ Jaya pouted.

‘You know we were waiting for you to come back, before starting the splurge!’ Piya finished Jiya’s thought.

The conversation turned to the weddings themselves, and they excitedly started the planning process until Mrs. Puri halted the flow with a question out of the blue.

‘Mitul, we were wondering. Do you think we should invite Noel?’

Here it was. The conversation that she’d been trying to avoid. She licked her suddenly dry lips and said, ‘maasi, why’re you asking me? I mean, its Piya-Jiya’s wedding, so you can invite whomever you want.’

‘Actually, beta, we really liked him, enjoyed having him stay with us. But he’s an actor, so we were kind of hesitant about it, and thought we should ask you if this was not, you know, imposing on him. Whether he even remembers us or not.’

‘Maasi,’ she was hesitant about how to frame this. ‘He is a busy person, but I guess you could always ask him. And this much I know, he does remember y’all. He’s not that kind of person,’ her voice faded at the end. Why was she even defending him? she thought. ‘I guess you can always ask him,’ she finished lamely.

Piya looked at the clock and said, ‘Mitul, you have his number, don’t you? Let me call him right now, please?’

Realizing that sooner or later it would have to be faced, she handed over Noel’s number to Piya, who dialed it directly from her land line. She frowned as she realized that no one was picking up the call, until it went to voicemail.

‘Hi, Noel. It’s Piya. Don’t know if you remember me, I’m Mitul’s cousin. Anyway, I needed to ask you something, so when you get this message, do give me a call back. Please? This is our home number, 905..’ she rattled off the number and hung up.

‘Looks like he’s not at home,’ she announced.

‘We got that,’ Jiya muttered.

‘So Mitul, tell us. How was El Paso?’ the dreaded question came from none other than Piya.

But she was more than prepared for it by now. Putting on an indifferent face she said, ‘hot.’

‘And the shooting?’ Piya was still agog.

‘Boring. They shoot the same scene like a gazillion times and it gets very boring if you’re just sitting there watching. It’s like watching paint dry. Very slow, very dull.’

Jiya narrowed her eyes. The complete absence of any reference to Noel did not miss her sharp mind. She’d noticed the bags under Mitul’s eyes and the tired look on face. Either her cousin was working too hard, or not getting enough sleep, or worried to death about something, or all of the above. She kept her observation to herself, because if she mentioned it, her mother would be down on her like the Seven Plagues. Better to ask Mitul about it later.

‘How was the road trip?’ asked Piya, having heard about it from Mitul.

Jiya watched closely as her cousin took a long slow drink of lemonade before replying. ‘It was fun. We saw the Carlsbad Caverns and then went up to Ruidoso. It’s Billy the Kid’s town, you know. The guy in the Westerns who was killed in a saloon while he was playing poker?’ she was babbling on. ‘I’ll show you’ll the pics later,’ she promised.

She’s not even mentioning his name! thought Jiya. Not even casually. She’s avoiding it. Something’s happened for sure.

They all nodded enthusiastically before the conversation returned to the weddings.

‘Now go and freshen up, and let’s have lunch. Your uncle wants to barbecue this evening, so thankfully, I don’t have to cook dinner for those two bottomless pits that I call damaads!’ Mrs. Puri told Mitul, much to everyone’s amusement.

Mitul was going through her emails when Jiya popped into her room.

‘Hey, you busy?’ she asked.

‘No, come on in,’ Mitul sat up. ‘Where’s Piya?’

‘She’s taking a nap, so I thought I’d come and chat with you,’ said Jiya.

Mitul smiled. Much as she loved Piya’s chattering, she also loved the quiet stillness that was Jiya.

‘Mitul, I wanted to ask you something,’ Jiya was looking uncomfortable.

‘Sure,’ she said, not really understanding what could make her cousin so hesitant.

‘You haven’t talked about Noel, at all,’ said Jiya. ‘Not a word. I know it’s not like you were best friends or something, but it still feels strange that you went out to El Paso for him. Yet you come back and you don’t mention him at all!’ She went silent for a bit, and then said, ‘Sorry if I seem to be prying, but you ... you don’t look happy, Mitul. Are you okay? If you want to talk I’m here,’ she was looking worried now. Had she overstepped her boundaries? 

Mitul sat staring at this wonderful person in front of her. Someone who’d seen the pain she was in, and was making an effort to find out if she was okay. She hugged Jiya impulsively, swallowing down the tears in her throat, taking solace from her sister’s silence.

‘Thanks, Jiya,’ she said after a little while. ‘I need to work this out for myself. Noel is a great person, and I did get to know him better on this trip. But ... I really, don’t want to talk about it right now.’

‘You’re not prying,’ she added after a pause. ‘It’s just ... I need to work this out for myself.’

Jiya smoothed back her hair and said, ‘okay. If that’s how you want to handle it. Just remember we are here for you. We’ll always be here for you.’

‘I know,’ Mitul’s voice went hoarse with the effort to keep it all bottled inside. They hugged again, before Jiya left Mitul to take a nap.

****

The next morning, Jiya wandered downstairs to find her mother making breakfast. The rest of the house was quiet. Piya, Mitul and Mr. Puri still sleeping off the night before. It had shocked Mrs. Puri to see Mitul downing more than her usual quota of beers, so she was not surprised that Mitul was not down yet. Seeing Jiya, she asked, ‘Is Mitul still sleeping?’

‘Yes, Ma, she is,’ Jiya began helping her mother chop vegetables for the poha-upma that they would be having for breakfast, after pouring herself a cup of coffee.

‘She was drinking a little too much last night,’ said Mrs. Puri in a slightly disapproving tone.

‘She has a lot of pressure on her, ma,’ Jiya defended her sister. ‘Maybe she needs to relax a little bit and if she drinks, its not like she is becoming an alcoholic.’

‘I know,‘ Mrs. Puri sighed. ‘Did she talk about Noel to you?’ Knowing very well that her quieter daughter could get people to open up simply with her silence.

‘She did. Not much. Just enough to say that she wanted time to think things over.’ She sipped her coffee and asked her mother, ‘how did you know?’

Mrs. Puri put down the knife she’d been using for chopping onions and said, ‘I may be older than you’ll but I’m not blind. He seemed to be so tuned into her, always looking for her. Writing the book - or whatever it was that they were doing - Mitul would be absorbed in her work, while he would look at her for long moments. Like she’s something he’s never seen before! I thought he would say something to her before they left Canada, but I guess that didn’t happen.’ She continued chopping and then said, ‘so she didn’t tell you anything about El Paso?’

Jiya shook her head.

‘Go take your shower,’ said Mrs. Puri, ‘before the others wake up. I’ll cook the poha when they are up.’

With that, Jiya went back upstairs while Mrs. Puri picked up the cordless handset, a cup of coffee and walked onto the deck at the back of the house. She settled herself comfortably enjoying the cool morning sun, before dialing a number.

The phone rang for a few seconds before someone picked up the line on the other end and said, ‘Hello?’

‘Kamini?’ said Mrs. Puri.

‘Didi,’ exclaimed Mrs. Imani. ‘How are you? It’s been so long since you called.’

‘I know, I know,’ said Mrs. Puri, ‘and I’m sorry. How’re things with you?’

‘Things are fine. Your brother-in-law is also fine, but he misses Mitul a lot. My devar and his family are arriving tomorrow,’ she sighed.

‘Maina?’ chuckled Mrs. Puri. ‘How is she?’

‘You know, she’s not a bad girl. She’s just spoilt. She just needs to be away from her mother’s influence,’ she lowered her voice. ‘I don’t know why my sister-in-law teaches her the things she does! I’d like to keep her with me, and fix all the rubbish her mother fills her head with,’ she said vehemently.

‘Someday, maybe you’ll get the chance. Besides, she’s still young.’

‘Yeah, they’re looking for a groom for her already,’ she sighed. ‘But they want Prince Charming with no in-laws, rich as Croesus and he should worship their little girl!’

‘Good luck with that!’ they both chuckled.

‘Anyway, tell me how are my girls? And your sons-in-law?’

‘My girls are fine. And my sons-in-law, thank God, love my twins, and they’re really wonderful boys. It’s your little girl I’m worried about,’ she said quietly.

‘Mitul? What happened to her?’ her mother was alarmed.

‘Can you talk?’ asked Mrs. Puri.

‘Yes, her father is out right now. What happened to Mitul?’ she repeated.

Mrs. Puri sighed and chewed her lip wondering how to put this. ‘You know, I think she’s in love,’ she put it badly.

Mrs. Imani put her hand to her heart. ‘Really? Who with? She never said anything! Did she meet anyone there?’

‘You know, Noel James the actor?’

‘Yes?’

‘Him.’

Mrs. Imani laughed, ‘Didi, she’s had a crush on him for ages! She thinks I don’t know but, ..’

‘It’s not a crush, Kamini,’ Mrs. Puri interrupted. ‘Noel was here, in Canada. She’s writing his biography. He even spent time with us when we went up to cottage country. I noticed how attracted to him she was, but I thought, you know, it’s just an infatuation, it will pass. Then, she went to El Paso to continue with her interviews. She got back last week. Since then, she’s been working like a dog. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. And last night, she was drinking a bit too much! Looks like she’s gotten to know Noel too well!’

Mrs. Imani kept silent, her heart breaking for her little girl, her daddy’s princess. ‘And him?’ she asked the next obvious question.

‘You know, he’s a really nice guy. I mean, under other circumstances, I might even have talked to him to find out how he feels about her. He used to follow her around. If she was working, he’d be looking at her constantly and if she wasn’t around, he’d be looking for her. He seemed to be caring and concerned. But ... I don’t know. I mean he’s a film actor. What’s a woman to them? They have women around them all the time, ready to give them what they want. So ... I didn’t say anything, just kept an eye on them.’

There was silence on both sides, and then Mrs. Puri went on, ‘even the twins became friends with him, especially Piya. So we’ll be inviting him to the wedding. Maybe you’ll get to meet him then and see for yourself.’

‘Mitul hasn’t said anything to that?’

‘All she said was, it’s Piya-Jiya’s wedding and we could invite whom we wanted. Seems like she wanted to see him, but was unwilling to say it out loud.’

‘When does she get back? Has she told you? She hasn’t said anything to us yet.’

Mrs. Puri saw a movement in the room behind her and said, ‘hold on. I think she’s downstairs. Talk to her.’ She covered the phone and called Mitul over. ‘Your mother is on the line, talk to her,’ she handed the phone to Mitul.

‘Hi, Ma!’ she said brightly. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine, beta and so is your Baba. He’s out right now. But your maasi tells me, you were drinking too much last night?’

‘Ma,’ she protested. ‘I was unwinding. I’ve been working very hard, lately. So I had a few beers.’

‘Mitul,’ her mother said in a warning tone. ‘You know your father doesn’t like you drinking so much!’

‘Ma,’ she said in soothing tones. ‘I am at maasi’s. You think she’ll allow me to drink too much? Besides it was just family last night, and the two damaads. Anyway, tell me. How’s things?’

‘You tell me, beta. Have you booked your tickets yet?’

‘Ma, next week is the registration, which you probably know about. I’ve to wind up a few things here. I should be back at the end of the month. I’ll call and let you know the exact date.’

‘Great! We can’t wait to see you, beta. We miss you so much.’

Mitul headed back into the room once she’d finished the call, and placed the phone on the cradle. Everyone was downstairs now, and Mrs. Puri was calling them to come to the dining table for breakfast. She was half-way across the room when the phone rang again.

‘Mitul, get the phone, please?’ called Jiya, carrying a tray of dishes to the table.

She turned around and picked up the phone. ‘Hello,’ she said in her low voice.

There was silence at the other end. She stood still, her heart racing. Somehow she knew who it was.

‘Hello?’ she said again, a little lower this time, holding her breath, hearing a soft hiss of a breath released at the other end. Dimly, she heard her aunt asking who it was, but didn’t answer.

‘Hi,’ his voice was just as husky as she remembered. She closed her eyes. ‘Can I talk to Piya?’

‘Sure,’ she said, feeling like he’d slapped her for not even acknowledging her. ‘Just a minute.’

She cradled the phone to her heart and held it for a second, before turning around and walking over to Piya. ‘Piya, it’s Noel,’ she held out the phone.

‘Noel!’ Piya exclaimed, ‘how are you?’

Mitul sat down quietly, trying not to listen in to the conversation as Piya happily chattered with him, telling him about the wedding plans. She looked deep into her coffee cup and willed the ready tears not to fall from her eyes, taking a deep breath and looked up just as Piya hung up.

He hadn’t even asked to speak to her! It hurt. It hurt real bad.

****

Five-Thirty AM - XIV

Mitul came out of the bathroom feeling a little self-conscious about walking out in a dress that was very unlike what she usually wore. The mid-thigh sleeveless sheath was in a rich red-brown, clinging lovingly to every curve. It had a simple boat neck, showing off the smooth brown lines of her collar bone, and the hollows underneath. What brought the dress up a notch was the richly embellished silver and turquoise belt that flattered her slim waist, tied at the center with leather ties. Matching silver and turquoise earrings swung from her ears, shaped like bear claws with delicate silver feathers dangling off the bottom. Her makeup was golden, a deep copper lipstick emphasizing her full lips, providing the pop of color. She’d left her hair loose after wondering for a full minute what to do with it.

Noel had finished dressing, and was waiting for her to come out of the bathroom where she seemed to be taking an inordinately long time. He turned around when he heard the door open and his breath stopped in his throat. He swallowed trying to clear it.

She looked like something that rose from the essence of the earth, a lushness that spoke of the parched earth of the desert, and then the cooling mist of the rain. He was feeling light-heated as he smelt the earthy tones of her fragrance, sandalwood and musk. It was a heady perfume. She stood in front of him, looked up and said, ‘is this too much do you think?’

He cleared his throat, but it still sounded husky even to his own ears, ‘it’s perfect. You’re perfect.’ He held out his arm. ‘Shall we go?’

The evening passed in bliss. A quiet meal looking out over the lake, then out to the casino. Everything was fine until Noel noticed that she wasn’t exactly keeping count of her drinks. And much as he liked how she looked with her eyes getting a little bleary, and a slightly woozy smile on her face, he decided it was time to head back to the hotel with her, before she made a scene.

****

Noel woke up early, in the pre-dawn darkness. The moon had already set, the sky still a midnight blue spangled with stars, and sun had yet to come out. The first fingers of dawn were piercing through the East. He got up and clad only in his boxers, used the bathroom, pulling on some warm ups, before heading out to the balcony.

The lump under the comforter on the other bed indicated that Mitul was still deep in her alcohol induced slumber.

He smiled and turned back, leaning on the rails. This was the time of day he loved the most. Enjoying the early hours of dawn, the quiet broken by the sleepy chirping of the birds, and the occasional plop in the lake as a fish surfaced. A light breeze ruffled his hair. He pulled up a chair, and put his feet up, relaxed. He rarely liked to share this time with anyone, sitting quietly by himself, absorbing the quiet and allowing it to seep into him, fortifying him for the day ahead. But today, for some reason, it wasn’t working.

He looked inside and she was still sleeping. Barely understanding what drove him, he got up and walked into the bedroom. He scooped her up, comforter and all, cradling her head tenderly. She snuggled more comfortably into his arms. He sat down on the couch on the balcony, with her on his lap, making sure she was wrapped fully against the cool breeze, and watched as the first glow of the morning light burst above the mountain tops. Lighting her face with a rosy glow, her face peaceful as she slept on, her head on his heart that beat at a comfortable, satisfied steady pace.

He looked at her face. Now he knew what she looked like at five-thirty a.m.

****

They drove back to El Paso that day. The holiday was over. Reality called.

Needless to say, they didn’t see any other strange sights nor did they hear any strange sounds, although they did see the occasional sign that said, ‘Beware of Wild Animals’.

*****

El Paso was still hot.

She sat at her desk and put on her headphones, before turning on the recorder. She was in the middle of transcribing the long conversations she’d had with Noel.

His mellifluous voice, the voice that she’d heard for so long on the screen, came over the phones, enhanced by the high quality audio equipment - each syllable crystal clear. There was a very unusual timbre to his voice, she thought. Deep yet husky. He enunciated clearly, and his intonations were as varied as the stories he told. And when he ... she hit the ‘Stop’ button on the recorder, tearing off the headphones from her ears.

In her ears she heard him say, ‘Go ahead’, the look in his eyes flashing into her mind! She closed her eyes, her breathing became uneven as sweat beaded on her forehead and she clenched her hands. She lay her forehead against the coolness of the desk, trying to calm down her racing pulse.

Noel James, she thought. Actor.

Someone that she’d already had the teeniest crush - okay scratch that - a great big crush on. But from the moment she’d picked up the phone, something had happened. He’d come out of the television and stepped into her life in all his 3-D glory. When she’d finally met him, she’d dismissed her racing heartbeat as her first time meeting with Noel James, the actor.

Over the days they’d spent together, she’d begun to learn about him, to know him. She’d seen the different facets of his character. Strong. Subtle. Vulnerable. A dutiful son. A wonderful friend. Confident. Humorous. Teasing. Sexy. Oh so, sexy!

She got up restlessly and walked over to the window, staring out at the stark mountain view unseeingly.

No wonder her pulses never slowed when he was around. He wasn’t helping by the way he behaved around her either - as if he, Noel James Figuieredo, the man, genuinely cared about her, Mitul Imani, the woman.

Turned around and went to the door, paced back to the couch and turned around, her mind running at the speed of a bullet.

Asking her to come out to El Paso. Caring for her. Aware of her. Seeking her out. Making her feel special. Teasing her. Flirting with her. Kissing her not once but thrice! Although the first kiss was merely a brush of his lips on hers. It hadn’t lasted long, and she’d barely had time to respond, before he’d drawn away and they’d walked in awkward silence back to their rooms.

She flopped on the couch, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

And then there was that other one. Her mind whirled as she remembered that kiss, that ... that ... incredible ... something that had happened between them.

The one with no context. He’d kissed her like he’d been wanting to, like he’d needed to, mirroring the way she’d craved him. She couldn’t have stopped him even if she’d wanted to. He could reduce her to a puddle of goo when he looked at her like that. Or touched her with those big hands. Or when he said, ‘Good Morning, Mitul,’ in that indescribable voice of his! And if they hadn’t stopped when they did, they would have ended up in bed. She wasn’t going to deny that.

And the good night kiss. The sweet, oh so sweet taste of that.

But he’s an actor! Another part inside her cried.

Her eyes scrunched in pain.

He has women throwing themselves at him all the time. She’d seen it at the party the other day. He could have had any one of those teens or their moms at any time - and they wouldn’t have said no. This is the industry he is a part of, where sex is only a currency - nothing more.

She wasn’t about to become a bill in his wallet.

She opened her eyes, sat up and drew a deep shaky breath.

They’d just spent some time together in isolation. Whatever had happened, had happened because of that proximity. There was nothing more that could happen between Noel and herself. Not now, not ever. All that waited for her down that path was heartbreak. She wasn’t going to let herself in for one. She cared about herself too much for that.

Lifting her chin, she went into the bathroom to wash her face and was surprised to see the tears staining her cheeks.

****

Noel was surprised when she didn’t join them for dinner that night. He’d just been stepping out of his room to knock on hers, when his phone rang. It was Mitul.

‘Noel, I’ve got a real bad headache. I’m just going to take a painkiller and go to sleep,’ she said.

‘Do you need something? I’m coming to your room,’ he said.

‘No. Please don’t bother,’ she protested. ‘Really, I just need to sleep it off.’

‘Are you sure? I can stay with you,’ his voice was tender, caring. She felt the tears start again.

‘No, It’s okay. I’m fine,’ she sniffed.

There was quiet on the line.

‘Okay, then. Call me if you need anything. Anything, okay?’ he was worried. She sounded like she was crying, or she’d been crying and he didn’t even know what it was that had happened!

‘Yes, I will,’ she drew a deep breath. ‘Good night,’ she said painfully.

‘Good night,’ he put down the phone.

‘Where’s Mitul?’ Dev asked. He’d just walked into Noel’s room.

‘She’s got a headache and has gone to bed,’ Noel said.

Dev waited for Noel to say something. ‘Let’s go,’ Noel said, instead.

The shoot was wrapping up in three days. Noel was busy everyday from dusk to dawn, shooting in the desert and around town. Mitul cried off for the most part, claiming she wanted to spend time on her writing. They did spend the evenings together, mostly with the crew or Dev around them. They barely had any time alone together.

Noel had tried to talk to her, but she had become strangely reticent, to his growing frustration. He couldn’t make out what was wrong with her. And the harder he tried to find out, the more elusive she got.

Dev was puzzled by this turn of events as well. Noel had come back from that trip, looking happier than he had in a long time. He had looked fresh and invigorated and it showed on camera, much to Raghu’s delight. Evidently, he and Mitul had grown closer during their road trip.

But now, when he wasn’t shooting, Dev caught him looking into the distance with a worried look on his face, the lines on his face reflecting an inner turmoil.

What the hell had happened between them?

And like Mitul, he wasn’t talking either.

****

Their flight out from El Paso was early in the morning with a stop en route at Houston, where they would part ways. Noel was traveling back to India. And Mitul to Toronto.

Dev, Noel and Mitul stopped in the cavernous halls of Houston airport. Mitul would have to take a train to her terminal, while Dev and Noel had a layover for about five hours. The hustle and bustle of the central hub surrounded them. There was still time before Mitul needed to make her way to her terminal.

‘I’ll get some coffee,’ Dev said, ‘you guys want some?’

‘Thanks. Can you get me a black coffee?’ asked Noel. ‘Let’s find a place to sit, and then get the coffee, you can leave your stuff with me.’

‘I’ll have a dark black, too,’ said Mitul. ‘Thanks.’

They found some free armchairs in a seating area and Dev took off towards the Starbucks, leaving the two of them sitting side by side.

Mitul stole a glance at him. His head was bent, staring at his big joined hands the elbows resting on his knees. Her heart was thudding slowly as she sat there staring at nothing, nervously clutching her bag.

He looked sideways at her and finally said, ‘what happened to you?’ his voice was low, pained.

‘To me?’ she turned sharply towards him.

‘Yeah. You.’ He stayed quiet for a minute, not looking at her. ‘I thought ... ,’ he frowned and shook his head. Took a deep breath as though he had come to some conclusion, the tick in his jaw working overtime. ‘Something happened to you after we came back. I don’t know what it is. It’s like you built a wall. And I’ve no idea why it’s there.’ He went quiet, a hint of despair in it.

She sat there unable to say a thing. There was almost an accusatory note in his voice. Her throat was tight, and she wasn’t even able to swallow past it.

He sat up, smiled, the green eyes devoid of any expression. ‘Don’t worry about it, Mitul,’ he said quietly. ‘What time’s your flight?’ he flipped the topic. He was, after all, a very good actor.

‘In about an hour and a half,’ she replied, watching him, confused by his sudden casual behavior, as he stood up with his hands on his hips.

‘Where’s Dev?’ he looked around, ostensibly to look for the missing Dev.

Her eyes were welling with tears so she stood up, and her back turned to him, surreptitiously wiping them away. She didn’t know that Noel had turned around and seen her doing so, and his lips thinned in pain.

Dev arrived with the coffee and they sat around talking, till it was time for Mitul to leave. She got up and gathered up her things.

‘Okay, guys, time for me to go,’ she tried hard to smile through her trembling lips.

Dev held out his arms to her for a hug, and she gladly put her arms around him. ‘We’ll see you in Mumbai soon,’ he said. ‘You have my contact info?’ he asked.

She hugged him tight. ‘Yes, I do, and yes, I’ll see you in Mumbai soon,’ she said.

She turned to Noel who was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. ‘Well ... ’ she said awkwardly.

He held out his arms for a hug.

She went into it, and his big arms wrapped around her, enveloping her, holding her tight. She slid her arms up under his, sliding them up to reach his shoulders, clutching his shirt, her ears against his heart, hearing the erratic rhythm of it, giving away what wasn’t on his face. He dropped a kiss on her head and whispered, ‘take care.’

She nodded against his chest, eyes closed breathing in his cologne, enough so it would last her for a while. She pulled herself together, drew back and in her beautiful low-pitched, slightly hoarse voice said, ‘you, too.’

He let her go, reluctantly. He handed her, her bags. She took them and walked down the hall leading to the trains, all the while wiping away the tears that refused to stop flowing down her cheeks. Just before she turned the corner, she looked back. He was still standing there, looking after her. She stopped. The urge to run back to him and throw herself back in his arms was clawing through her. Instead, she raised a hand in a small wave, and saw him raise his as well. She turned the corner and he was lost to view.

Something inside her was breaking apart. She didn’t know what it was. All she knew was there was only one person responsible for this deep clawing pain inside her.

Noel James Figueiredo.

*****

Noel and Dev sat back in their chairs. Noel bent forward, elbows on his knees, his hands on his head.

‘She was crying,’ said Dev, rather unnecessarily in Noel’s opinion.

Noel nodded.

‘It’s not like she won’t see us again. When does she come to Mumbai?’ continued Dev in a conversational tone.

‘I don’t know,’ Noel replied very softly. Dev jerked around in surprise. ‘I never asked.’

‘What?’ Dev exclaimed.

Noel nodded again. ‘Yes. I didn’t want to know,’ he gritted out.

Dev was stunned. This didn’t make sense! But then, not much of the dynamics of this relationship had been making sense lately! One minute they couldn’t wait to be alone, and the next, they’re not talking to each other.

He knew his friend well, and he was pretty sure that Noel was genuinely interested in Mitul. From the looks of that goodbye, it seemed the feeling was mutual. So what was the holdup? Was it Mitul? Was it that Noel was feeling much more for her than she was feeling for him? But that didn’t seem right either. Dev was puzzled.

‘I don’t get you,’ he finally blurted out.

Noel gave him a long exasperated look. He handed his coffee cup to Dev before getting up and heading towards the restrooms. ‘Neither does she,’ he whispered to himself, bitterly.

****

The flight from Houston to Dubai is a long one. About sixteen hours. Noel had plenty of time to think, because sleep was the last thing on his mind. Dev had dropped off at some point, not that they’d talked much.

He lay there in the darkness, a movie running soundlessly on the screen in front of him, as he asked himself the same question that he’d been asking himself for the last few days. What the hell happened? He went through each and every incident, every word, every gesture between them. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when he realized that she was treating him ultra casually. She was still friendly, they had still talked but they didn’t connect anymore. An invisible chasm had loomed between them.

Was it because of that kiss? He’d woken up from a deep sleep and seen her standing in front of him at the door. He’d still been groggy when he’d sat down beside her, he was bone-tired and all he’d wanted was her in his arms. He’d needed it, he’d fantasized about it, and there she was two feet away. He’d reached out to her naturally and she hadn’t resisted, in fact, she’d participated. Whole-heartedly.

Was it because of the scars he had? He’d wanted to tell her about them. He never spoke of those dark days. The hell he himself had walked into. He’d wanted to open up to her, tell her everything about himself. Let her see who he was.

And in Ruidoso, he thought they’d reached that point of understanding.

But now. She only wanted to be his biographer. So be it. If that’s what she wanted, that’s what she’d be. And he would have to edit his life his own way. He didn’t want to take the risk of revealing himself to the world. He had been ready to do that to her. But not anymore.

He hadn’t wanted to ask her about Mumbai. All that would be set up between Dev and Joyce, he decided. Because if he knew when she was coming, all he would end up doing, was counting the days till he saw her again.

Mitul Imani would be just his biographer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He beckoned the flight attendant and asked for a whiskey on the rocks. When it came, he downed it quickly, and asked for another. For the first time in years, Noel craved the oblivion that alcohol offered.

****

Five-Thirty AM - XIII

Mitul stared at the rain pelting down the window pane. Who’d have guessed it could rain this hard in New Mexico? she thought, surprised by the ferocity of the storm.

They were in Arista, New Mexico, a small town in the middle of nowhere. They’d stopped for lunch and been caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing them to check into a hotel there.

Dev had called and Noel had retired to his room, evidently work had come up. So much for his promise of no Dev for these two days, she thought pouting.

Sighing, she spun the chair around to face the desk, turning on her laptop and plugging the camera in. She waited as the pictures downloaded. Flipping through them, she had to admit - Noel was instinctively a good photographer! Each of the shots he’d taken were crisp and clear, despite the fact that most were low light. She was pleased. The best part of sharing the camera with him was that she actually had some photos of herself, too. And some photos of him.

There was one picture that stood out. They’d asked someone else to take that picture and she laughed as she looked at it. They’d taken it outside in front of the reception at Carlsbad, the blue sky and the vast plains behind them, him sitting on the wall, her standing next to him. And he was still taller than her! She smiled as she remembered his hand sneakily coming up around her waist while they waited for the shot to be taken. They’d looked at each other, and that’s when the photo had been clicked.

A knock on the door disturbed her. ‘Coming,’ she yelled, walking to the door and opening it. Noel stood there.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said as he walked into her room. ‘But Dev keeps me busy.’

‘And you promised me no Dev,’ she whined.

He looked at the extremely cute picture she made as she stood there. Her eyes narrowed, hands on hips, lips pouting. ‘Do you want some cheese with that?’ he grinned.

She frowned. ‘With that Whine,’ he teased.

‘Ugh! Noel!’ she giggled. ‘That’s one of the worst jokes I’ve heard.’

‘Come on,’ he held out a hand. ‘Dinner?’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘But where, in this rain?’

‘We’ll eat at the restaurant here, I'm in no mood to go looking for food now,’ he said.

She picked up her bag and room key, and put her hand in his, feeling the heat from his palms on hers. She looked at him. He blinked once, slowly, at her, as if to say, I feel it too.

They’d finished dinner, when he excused himself, ‘be right back,’ and headed towards the restroom. He came back after a few minutes, and said, ‘let’s go up to one of our rooms, order a movie or something,’ he suggested.

‘Sure,’ she said, following his lead.

They were comfortably ensconced on his couch, flipping through the pay-per-view channels looking for a movie, when there was a knock on the door. She got up and opened it.

A waiter stood there with a tray on which were two cups, accompanied by a plate of churros. What looked like cinnamon sticks stuck out from the froth on top of the cups.

‘We didn’t order this,’ she said, looking at the waiter.

‘Si. Senor. He order it,’ the obviously Hispanic waiter replied, nodding his head towards Noel.

‘Ah! Dessert!’ Noel exclaimed, taking the tray and signing the receipt.

‘Dessert?’

‘Churros and Mexican hot chocolate,’ he explained, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them. They sat down and she stared at the plates.

He picked up a churro, holding out the cinnamon sugar coated crunchy goodness to her, she reached out a hand to take it. He pulled it back, and then held it close to her mouth, a dreamy look coming onto his face as her lips opened and she leaned forward to bite into it, her eyes holding his. A sprinkling of sugar coated her lips, and his parted, his gaze firmly fixed on her lips. She could feel the tingling start on her lips, almost as if his tongue had stroked along it.

She chewed the piece, running her tongue along her lips, picking up the sugar, startled to see the heat flame in his eyes at that. She dropped her eyes, and took the piece of churro from him, holding it out for him.

He bit into it, holding her hand as he did so. A small smirk played around his lips. ‘We’re supposed to drink the hot chocolate with that,’ his husky voice shimmied down her spine.

She nodded wordlessly, and picked up her cup, stirring the cinnamon stick, before taking a sip. The hot liquid was thick and chocolatey and cinnamon-y with just an underlying hint of chillies under it. Her eyes widened at the heat hit the back of her throat. ‘This is good!’ she said, smiling.

He sipped silently, a bubble of pleasure growing inside him as he watched her enjoy the dessert. He was glad he’d taken the time to find out what was special about the food here. They were stuck in a godforsaken town on a rainy evening, but dammed if he was going to let it go waste!

‘How did you know?’ she asked.

He looked sheepishly and said, ‘I asked. Thought you might enjoy it. After all, there’s not much else you can do on a day like this!’ he shrugged.

She looked at him and thought, strange man! Here I thought he was working with Dev, and he was going into the effort of finding out something that would make the evening ... better! She looked into her cup and smiled, before lifting her eyes to him and asking, ‘Did you find a movie you wanted to watch?’

He grinned at her, ‘Nightmare on Elm Street?’

‘Cheesy, Noel. That’s a date night movie,’ she narrowed her eyes.

‘Okay,’ he laughed and threw up his hands. ‘3:10 to Yuma. The Christian Bale, Russell Crowe one. You, my lady,’ he elaborated, ‘can get your eye-full of eye candy.’

‘Now that,’ she smiled, ‘is something I can live with.’

They settled down to watch the surprisingly intense and gripping Western, sipping their chocolates and munching churros. Noel explained some of the nuances, what he saw of film-making, the camera angles, lights, scripts, action, making it an even better experience for Mitul.

It was past ten when they finished, and Mitul got up and stretched.

Noel couldn’t believe his eyes! What did she think she was doing? Her cotton top stretched across her tight breasts, and as her arms lifted, it rose to reveal that silver navel ring. His eyes ran over her. Okay, he was ogling her, but heck, what was a man supposed to do?

She walked to the door, and turned around, ‘I had a really great time today, Noel,’ she said smiling up at him.

‘Me, too,’ he whispered, his arms going around her and holding her close. Her hands went up under his arms, to his strong shoulders, as she snuggled in. He bent his head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, before he lifted her chin to kiss her.

The kiss tasted of cinnamon and chocolate. It was a little bit of Noel and a little bit of Mitul. It was sweet and spicy. It was tender and hard. It was dizzying and steadying. It was like flying high and floating on an ocean. It was a little slice of heaven and a whole lot of hell.

For Noel. At that moment, he didn’t want to say good night. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to wake up at five-thirty am, just to see how she looked then. He wanted ... oh! so much more. And he definitely didn’t want to say good night.

He drew back, slowly drawing his lips from hers, eyes still closed. Her eyes fluttered open, only to see him lifting heavy eyelids, his pupils dilated and dark, burning with little green flames. She could feel his heart against her chest, racing along with hers, in synchrony. His hands slid down her back, resting on her hips, bringing her closer, as he kissed her on the forehead.

‘Good night, babe,’ he breathed. ‘Go!’ he turned her around, and gave her a tiny pat on her bottom.

She grinned over her shoulder at him, her cheeks darker with color, ‘Good night, Noel,’ she said. He raked a hand through his hair, and grinned back at her.

*****

Ruidoso is a small growing town in the Mescalero Apache Indian Reservation in New Mexico. Surrounded by mountains covered with green conifers and dotted with ranches, it is much cooler than El Paso, although it’s only a three-hour drive.

Noel drove along the winding two-lane street, cutting through high jagged mountains on either side. They had opened out the sunroof today, allowing the sunshine to beat down on them, the cool breeze from the mountains taking the edge off the hot rays. Both were dressed in jeans, shirts and sun glasses, melding with the other tourists dotting this town, that had slowly become a popular tourist destination.

Quaint shops stood on either side of the street, raised at an elevation or sunk into a few steps, towering pines shading the seating areas in little squares.

‘Do you want to take a look around first, and then go to the hotel, or what?’ he said.

‘Let’s check in first,’ she suggested, ‘and then we can spend the afternoon here.’

He nodded in agreement.

‘So why did you choose Ruidoso as a destination, Noel?’ she asked as he deftly made his way through traffic signals, heading out of town to hit the ridge road leading to the resort.

‘Cause this is the town of Billy the Kid,’ he smirked.

‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed, palms to both her cheeks in exaggerated astonishment, eyes wide open. ‘Why did I not think of it?’ She fanned herself with her hands, blinking her eyes rapidly. ‘Of course, it had to do with Wild west history!’ she laughed at the blush creeping up his throat.

‘Okay, I admit it, I’m a fan of the Wild west. So?’ he questioned petulantly and not a little defensively.

She was laughing holding on to her stomach at his expression, his lower lip out in an adorable pout.

‘Okay, baby, let’s go to the hotel,’ she said in her baby voice, putting her hand on his arm. His left hand came up and held it, and he switched hands so that he could kiss her knuckles, glancing at her as he did so.

She shut up.

He smirked. So. The only way to shut her up was to kiss her! This was really good to know, he thought, his mind walking down a path with different scenarios, each one ending with him shutting her up very effectively.

Mitul stared out of the window, a small smile on her lips. This trip was turning out to be much more fun than she had anticipated. Although he’d opened up about the tough days in the army, he’d also been a great companion. He’d been considerate, fun and sweet and ... overall made her totally comfortable with him. Yes, he’d kissed her last night. But he never crowded her, letting her have her space, yet making sure she never forgot he was with her because he wanted to be with her.

She could easily see herself being friends with him all her life. Well, that is, if friendship is all she wanted. But right now, sitting beside him, she wasn’t going to analyze all that. Time enough later. Carpe Diem was her motto for today.

The approach road to the resort that Dev had booked them into was on a ridge, though the resort lay spread out in the valley below, golf carts visible on the golf course with a jewel-like lake gleaming next to it, surrounded by mountains covered in conifers. It was gorgeous.

‘How did you find this place?’ she asked as they walked in.

‘I had Dev book us,’ he said. ‘When we talked yesterday. There’s a casino attached to the resort. We could do some Casino Royale tonight if you like,’ he suggested, taking in the Native American influence on the decor of the lobby. A sunken hall led out to the golf course they had glimpsed. An enormous beaded fountain tinkling as it flowed out of the hall to the lower lobby to the lake outside. They headed to the reception to check in.

Dev had left out a very important fact.

A convention was taking place at the resort and the place was full. The only thing they could offer was a double queen room.

Noel looked her questioningly. ‘Are you okay with that?’ he asked Mitul, who seemed to be worrying her lower lip nervously, her eyes on the receptionist.

She looked at him, swallowed and said, ‘Yes.’ There was no option, anyway. They checked in and went to find their room.

It was large. Large enough that they wouldn’t be stumbling over each other, thankfully. Mitul chose the bed near the balcony, so he took one on the inside of the room. Elegant Native American furniture carried the theme of the resort into the room, a separate screened off seating area leading to the balcony. The bathroom boasted a large Jacuzzi and separate shower stall. On the counter top was a transparent floating sink with pewter fittings adding a understated touch of elegance.

*****

They found a beautiful place with a garden patio to have their lunch at. Once again, Noel had found out what was specific to the area they were in, and ordered Apache Fried bread. It came with something called chile and also a small bowl of honey.

Mitul tore off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the chile - which seemed to contain garbanzo beans. She put it into her mouth, chewed and looked at him in astonishment. ‘Oh my God, Noel. How do you do it? Do you know this is exactly like chana-bhatura?’

He took a bite and laughed. ‘You are so right! This is so good!’ They both fell silent as they chowed down, enjoying the familiar taste of home on their taste buds.

They spent the afternoon walking around the town, browsing through shops, amazed at the hand-crafted silver and turquoise and beaded jewelry on display. They took pictures. She bought a floppy hat that he complained about because he couldn’t see her face, although he did admit that it made her look cute.

They took a breather, sitting at one of the white wrought-iron tables in one of the squares, drinking lemonade out of tall cold glasses.

‘Mitul?’ he said thoughtfully, while they watched the traffic on the street below.

‘Hmmm?’ the low hum set a spark aflame in his gut.

‘How is it that you know so much about me, and I know barely anything about you?’ he asked, reaching out and removing her sunglasses, so he could see her eyes.

She looked over at him, seeing the seriousness in his eyes, and her heart jumped a little, before hopping along like a frightened bunny.

‘What do you want to know?’ she asked.

‘Everything,’ his voice was husky again, brushing across her skin just as his thumb was doing on her palm.

She smiled at him through her nervousness. ‘There’s really nothing much to know. My life is unlike my books. Uncomplicated. Parents. Only child. Studied in India, first and then at UofT with a major in Media and Communications. I am a Canadian by choice.’

He was still gazing intently at her. She gave a short nervous laugh. ‘Nothing to it, not as exciting as yours,’ she clutched at his hand.

He looked down at her white knuckles and said. ‘It not necessarily a good thing to have an exciting life, you know.’ He looked up, into her eyes. ‘Why journalism? and now this book?’ 

She smiled comfortable again in her safe zone. ‘I loved to write, always. I wrote poetry, short stories I think since I was in middle school. My grandmother, she loved reading, literature, and I grew up listening to stories on her lap. She was a great storyteller.’ Her voice had turned wistful without her knowing and he squeezed her hand. ‘I guess that’s where I got my love of stories from. I was in university when I realized that I could earn a living writing stories. I submitted a book to Velvet Rose publications.’ He raised his brows. ‘They publish romances.’ She ducked her head, embarrassed.

He laughed incredulously. ‘You write romances?!’

She glared at him, ‘I knew you would laugh!’

He sputtered and said, ‘so the hard-headed journalist writes romances on the side?’ His lips twitched as he tried to contain his laugh.

‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you,’ she mumbled, pouted and folded her hands, turning her face away.

‘I’m sorry. Go on.’ He held out his hand, palm up, asking for her forgiveness.

She sighed and put her hand in his. ‘That’s pretty much it. My salary from the magazine is my bread and butter. The money I get from writing the books is the icing on the cake.’

‘What name do you use?’ he knew that she would never use her own name to write.

‘Ally. Ally Faith,’ she mumbled.

He looked puzzled, drew back a little.

She sighed. ‘Mitul means Friend or Ally. Imani means Faith. Ally Faith. Except A-L-L-Y is pronounced as al-ee not al-ai.’ She shrugged. ‘Just a pun, really.’

He looked admiringly at her. ‘I’m glad you are writing my biography,’ he said quietly. ‘You‘re really good with words.’ He settled himself more comfortably and leaned forward. ‘So. I want to know something.’

‘What?’ she was feeling glad that he wasn’t dwelling on this whole romance writing thing.

‘You write romances. So, ... er .., you must write some really ... ah.. intimate scenes. What’s your inspiration, Ms. Imani?’

He burst out laughing. She looked outraged for all of a second, before she swatted him with her bag.

*****