Five-Thirty AM - XVI

Noel placed the phone back on the cradle. He’d been amused to hear Piya’s message earlier this morning. Last night, they’d been shooting till the early hours and he’d crashed as soon as he got back. It was only when he was checking messages today that he’d heard the voice mail. And so, he’d called back.

He had not been prepared to hear Mitul’s voice.

For a moment, he’d thought he’d imagined it. That it was really Piya or Jiya answering the phone. He was just fantasizing it was her. But then, she’d said hullo a second time, and he’d known it was her. He’d let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in a hiss, composed himself and said the first thing that came to his mind, ‘Can I talk to Piya?’

He’d almost banged the phone into his head at that, cursing his own stupidity. A week. A week had gone by without her, and he’d just ruined the first chance he’d got! stupid! Stupid!! STUPID!!!

Then he’d listened to Piya talk about the weddings. They wanted him to come to the wedding. Of course, he was going to accept. How could he not? Not just because of Mitul, he told himself. But because he’d genuinely bonded with the Puris. He liked them.

He threw himself down on the dark brown lazy-boy in front of the TV and stared at nothing in particular.

He was bone-tired. He’d not had time to recover from the jet-lag, before they were full swing into shooting some of the other action sequences. Each stunt was worked out meticulously, with the action director coming up with novel ways to enhance the stunts, and at the same time keeping to the script.

At least the physical exhaustion made him sleep at night.

He wandered into the kitchen and noticed that his man-friday had left a fresh pot of coffee brewed. Pouring himself a cup, he came and sank back into the lazy-boy. He loved this chair, it was worn and well-used, could recline back to a hundred-and-thirty-five degrees and was still comfortable as all else. It was his Dad’s chair, and that’s all he’d asked his father for when he’d bought this two-bedroom apartment.

Despite the fact that he could probably afford something a little better and a little bigger, he’d kept this apartment. It was good enough for his Spartan needs. It’s said a person’s living space reflects their personality. It was neat. Always. Noel was never sloppy, the army teaches you that very quickly.

The walls were a dark mottled cream color, the furniture a pale teak.

The paleness of the walls were broken by the clusters of photographs, all black and white that he had had mounted. There was, however, a new addition in his bedroom. The picture of Mitul and himself smiling at each other at Carlsbad stood on the bedside table.

It was the rich reds and greens of the upholstery and the occasional wall hanging that gave his home color and depth and a cosy comfort. The random potted plants brought in a coolness with their greenery. None of them were flowering plants, but he liked the idea of having something green around him.

Brown and green - earth tones.

Speaking of.

He looked around him, wondering what Mitul would make of it. He wanted her to see it, he wanted to see her in it, because he could see her fit in perfectly. An earth goddess in an earthy room. Would she be earthy all over?

He stopped himself. He closed his eyes, blanking out his mind. Forcing himself to stop thinking of her.

Instead, that last morning in Ruidoso played in his mind.

*****

He sat there with her in his arms, watching the sun come up over the mountains. She frowned as the rays of the sun hit her face. He picked her up, and walked back to the bed, gently laying her down on it and tucking her in. He took a shower, and then clad only in his jeans, walked over to her bed.

Sitting down, he ran his fingers lightly over her lips, her forehead, her eyes, watching as she scrunched her face up, before fluttering open those eyelids and letting him see the deep gold of her eyes.

They were smudged and bottomless and he could feel himself drowning in them. Leaning over, he kissed her forehead, ‘Good morning, Mitul,’ he growled, not knowing he’d sent vibrations along her spine.

She smiled sleepily up at him, her arms coming out of the comforter to run along the bare bones of his ribcage. She was dressed in the comfortable, modest cotton pajamas that she’d changed into somehow, the night before.

He held his breath as she slowly sat up, their faces mere inches apart. She seemed to be looking for something in his eyes, before she whispered, ‘Good morning, Noel,’ in her sleep-husked, raspy voice, and his body reacted almost instantaneously at that.

‘I need to brush!’ was the next thing that came out of her mouth, before she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

He sat staring after her, before chuckling in amusement. ‘I’m ordering breakfast,’ he called. 

‘Okay,’ she yelled through the door.

He smiled at that - it was so domestic! She’d enjoyed pancakes the first time they’d gone out, he remembered. So pancakes with fresh cream and fruit, and coffee it was. He packed up while he waited for breakfast and once it came, he placed it on the table in the seating area, settling down to wait for her.

When she finally came out she was wrapped in a robe, her hair lying in damp tendrils, still dripping water, and looking freshly scrubbed. She joined him in the seating area.

‘Sit,’ he said, gesturing to the seat next to him on the couch.

She sat down gingerly, shyly peeking at his half-naked state. He reached out a finger and touched a droplet of water snaking down her neck, and trailed his finger along it. She looked at him round-eyed.

He dropped the arm, snaking it around her and pulled her close, aware that she had nothing on under it, and that she smelled deliciously of shampoo and shower gel and her. Holding her cheek with his other hand, he kissed her. A soft, good morning, I’m so glad you’re here with me, kiss. His tongue brushed lightly against her lips, his hands finding their way to her damp hair, holding her head as he deepened the kiss. Her hands had come up and tugged at his hair, gently, before finding their way down to the nape of his neck and rubbing along his collar bones. They flittered down his bare chest and brushed on his nipples. Which is when he drew back. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if they didn’t stop right there.

He smiled into her eyes and husked, ‘now that’s a good morning kiss,’ watching as she blushed delightfully.

*****

The front door unlocking broke into his reverie and he opened his eyes.

Shomu, his man-friday was back, his arms laden with groceries. His mother had found Shomu in Goa. The man was loyal and had been with their family for over twenty years, moving with him to Mumbai when he’d needed domestic help. He could also cook a mean vindaloo. In his late forties, he still looked practically the same as he’d done the day he’d been hired by his mom.

‘Noel, baba, have you showered?’ he asked Noel.

Noel shook. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Shomu,’ he said, raising the cup.

‘Go shower, then. Dev baba called earlier, he’ll be coming in a bit. Are you going out for dinner?’

‘No, Shomu. Can you make something light, please? A fish curry and rice, maybe?’ Noel loved fish. It reminded him of home.

‘I’ve got some fresh pomfret, baba. Dal, fish fry and a cauliflower curry work for you?’ Shomu asked.

‘Perfect,’ Noel smiled. He loved the simple home-cooked meals. He headed into the master suite for his shower.

When he came out, in jeans and a tee, Dev was already there, playing Skyrim on the XBox. ‘Hey!’ he raised his glass of coke to Noel. There was no alcohol or tobacco allowed in Noel’s home. Not even for guests.

‘Hey, Dev,’ Noel sat down next to him. ‘What’s going on?’

‘This game is fucking awesome, Noel,’ he said, saving it and shutting down the console. ‘The graphics are unbelievable!’

‘Yeah, I know. Not that I get to play it too much,’ Noel grimaced.

‘Wanna go out tonight?’ Dev raised an eyebrow, although he knew what the answer would be.

‘No,’ Noel sighed. Then he looked over at his friend and said, ‘Piya had called.’

‘Oh yeah?’ having heard all about the Puris from Noel, already. ‘How come?’

‘The weddings - both Piya’s and Jiya’s - are in two months. They’re registering the weddings this Friday and then the entire family is coming to India a month before the wedding,’ he added. ‘They’re having a double wedding. They wanted to invite me.’

Noel went silent.

Dev waited.

‘Mitul was at their place,’ Noel finally said, a red hue rising up his neck.

Shomu called them just then to come for dinner. They moved over to the dining table, and sat down to the simple meal.

‘Noel, baba. There’s yogurt in the fridge - don’t forget to have it. I’ve set up the coffee pot. Leave the dishes in the sink, I’ll do them tomorrow,’ Shomu instructed, before leaving for the night. He stayed with his family - a wife and a son - close by in a small flat.

‘All right, Shomu. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Noel said.

‘So did you talk to Mitul?’ Dev had impatiently waited while Shomu took his leave.

‘Sort of,’ Noel muttered. Dev narrowed his eyes. Sort of? What the heck did that mean?

‘Piya had left a voicemail, so I called back. Mitul picked up the phone and all I could say was, can I speak to Piya. That was it!’ Noel exclaimed feeling a little disgusted with himself at his complete flub!

Dev’s lips twitched with amusement. Charming, flirty Noel seemed to have flown out the window when it came to Mitul.

‘And you didn’t ask to speak to her after that?’

Noel shook his head.

Dev shook his head at his friend’s stupidity. ‘By the way, she’s coming in three weeks,’ he told Noel casually, before putting a spoonful of rice in his mouth.

Noel looked up sharply.

‘Joyce called. Mitul wants some more time with you, so I’m getting your dates cleaned up a bit, for the interviews.’

Noel nodded. It was something he was dreading and contrarily something he was looking forward, too. He knew that at some point he’d have to talk to Mitul. ‘Can we set them up at either Joyce’s or your office?’ he growled, taking the pragmatic way out.

Dev looked over at him and noticed the sharp pinched look around his eyes. His friend was suffering and he’d promised Mitul hell if she made him suffer. But first, he’d have to see what state Mitul was in, before he did anything.

*****

Friday was a beautiful day in Toronto. Mitul had stayed over the previous night at the Puris, and helped Jiya and Piya get dressed for their registration. Both wore beautiful elaborate anarkalis, appropriate for a morning wedding, with light jewelry. Jiya shone in cream with an accent of fuchsia, while Piya chose pale yellow with an accent of olive.

The two sisters arrived at the wedding chapel to find their two grooms waiting for them, looking dapper in morning tuxedos, with small carnations in their lapels.

The ceremonies were short and sweet - a promise to love, honor and cherish each other all through their lives.

Piya had chosen a traditional gold wedding band for Anuj, while Jiya had gone with a flat gold band for Rajan. Rajan had in turn chosen a platinum band for her, set with tiny diamonds, while Anuj had gone with one that fitted into the engagement ring, he’d put on Piya’s finger. It was the other half of the ring.

Mitul took pictures and the Puris smiled in delight. Each of the four had brought a friend along as witness and once all the paperwork was done, they headed out the door.

They were walking across the wide, sweeping expanse of Nathan Phillips Square when Mitul’s phone vibrated. She excused herself and walked a little apart as she answered it.

‘Hi!’ came the last voice that she’d expected to hear. Noel.

Her heart jumped and a smile broke across her face. She opened her mouth and then shut it. Remembering. Why? Why did he have to do this? she thought, closing her eyes.

‘Mitul?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she breathed.

‘Is the wedding over?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ was all she could say.

‘Can I talk to Piya and Jiya?’

She nodded, and called Piya over, ‘Noel. He wants to congratulate you guys,’ and handed over the phone. She stood watching silently, her heart bleeding as her sisters and new brothers-in-law talked happily to him.

Rajan finally handed the phone over with, ‘he wants to talk to you.’

She took it, wondering why her hand was shaking so much. She cleared her throat before speaking. ‘Hi!’

‘Hey,’ he was quiet and then said, ‘how are you?’

‘I’m good,’ she replied. ‘Good. And you?’

‘I’m fine. Just tired a lot. Shooting non-stop now,’ he rambled and stopped. ‘Dev was here the other day. He was asking after you. You’re coming back to India in two weeks?’ he made a question out of it.

‘Yes,’ baldly.

‘I’ve asked him to set up some time with you, if that’s okay with you,’ formally.

‘That’s okay,. Thank you,’ equally formally.

‘Mitul,’ her aunt was calling her.

‘I’ve gotta go,’ she said.

‘Okay. Bye. Take care, Mitul,’ his tongue lingered over her name.

‘You too. Bye, Noel,’ she said.

She walked over to the group, as they headed out for an early celebratory lunch, a bright, happy smile pasted on her face.

*****

The newly weds had gone off for the weekend. Now that they were legally married, they didn’t need chaperones.

So, Mitul was left to her own devices and was finding it hard to concentrate on work. She’d worked out. Done all her household chores. Paid all her bills. She needed to start packing, she thought.

She sat down after a solitary cold salad lunch and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels as she usually did, trying to find something brain-numbing so she wouldn’t have to think.

His face was on the Hindi channel.

She stopped.

It was one of those Parda Faash segments that she hated.

He was dressed in a black suit, his hair ruffled. His jaws were still shadowed with a dark stubble, and the crisp white shirt showed off the strong muscles of his throat. She swallowed as she looked it, filling her hungry gaze with it.

Next to him stood one of the top TV actors in India, simpering in a red sari, looking absolutely gorgeous with her flawless makeup. Long hair, glossy and shining that she tossed over her shoulder from time to time, a big toothy grin, framed in perfect glossy lips, and a chirpy voice.

‘So when do you start shooting for this serial?’ the reporter asked him.

‘I still have to finish the movie I am working on. Once it goes into post-production, we start shooting full-time for the serial,’ he replied.

‘Yes, Noel is the hold-up,’ laughed the actress, leaning slightly towards him, as he held the mike towards her.

‘What’s the story about?’

‘Oh! It’s a love story mainly - but with a difference. Well, Indian audiences always need their romance, but its more a social drama,’ the actress replied, putting her hand over Noel’s to hold the mike closer. Noel nodded, his green gaze fixed on her, smile firmly in place.

‘We provide the romance,’ Noel laughed huskily, looking at his co-star.

‘Noel, you’ve already had two films, one a hit, and you’re shooting your third. So why are you coming back to TV?’ was the next question.

‘First, it’s a good story, strong screenplay. My character is very well thought out. Secondly, the ensemble cast is fantastic, and lastly, it’s a weekly serial. The thing with daily soaps is that they get really exhausting. You’re working over 60 hours a week and it can really burn you up. This is a weekly one-hour show, it won’t be rushed, so it’s quality will be better. And we’ll be able to give our best for the audience,’ Noel replied.

‘Have you met the other cast members?’ asked the reporter.

‘Yes we have,’ she replied, once again leaning into Noel to answer, her voice beginning to grate on Mitul’s nerves. ‘And we are looking forward to working with them. It’s a fun group of people.’ She laughed happily up at Noel.

‘You know your fans are looking forward to seeing you both together on screen,’ the reporter was obviously winding down.

‘Yes, and we are also looking forward to having them back with us, again,’ it was the actress who replied once again, with her signature toothy grin.

The screen cut to the reporter. ‘Well, there you have it. Noel James and Malavika Bose are coming together for new serial on Love OK Channel - the hottest channel for romance. The promos will start to air in two weeks time, we are told. Watch out for it, folks. It promises to be fantastic!’ With that, the screen cut to the next segment.

Mitul sat there, chewing on her nail. She hated Malavika Bose and her perfectly made up face. She hated her toothy grin and her simpering smile. She hated her grating voice and her perfect hair. She hated her from the bottom of her heart, she decided.

And she hated Noel for making her hate a woman she’d never even met!

*****