shimmering fabric as if trying to skim the surface of water without causing ripples. “But I have no idea what to do with them.” Suddenly Jen looked lost, and more bewildered than Ria had ever seen her look.
“I have a few ideas,” Nikhil said, rubbing her shoulders, and planted a kiss on her neck.
She didn’t react.
“Nikhil, let’s focus on putting the clothes on right now, not taking them off, okay?” Ria said, smiling, and unfurled the midnight-blue silk across the bed.
Nikhil laughed, but his eyes stayed on Jen, who continued to stare at the saris nervously. “I’ve never worn a sari in my life. And the wedding is in twelve days.” She gnawed at a cuticle.
Ria slung the jade silk over Jen’s shoulder. “Really, Jen, it’s not hard once you get the hang of it. Here, let’s drape one on you and you’ll see how easy it is. Don’t worry, we’re going to turn you into the perfect desi bride.”
Given what a desi- phile Jen was and how naturally she took to everything Indian, her nervousness was adorable, and Ria gave her a quick hug. She had no doubt Jen was going to be dancing the bhangra in her sari before she knew it. “You already know more about Indian history and culture than both Nikhil and me put together, and by the end of today, you’ll be better at wearing Indian clothes than us too.”
“Ria’s right,” Nikhil said, “I can already see Aie rubbing it in my face. ‘For shame, Nic, learn something from your fiancée!’” He waved his hands about and did a perfect imitation of Uma Atya.
Ria smiled and zipped up Jen’s blouse. Then knotted the skirt-like petticoat at her waist and wrapped the sari around her, pleating and tucking the slippery fabric in place. Jen stood there stiffly, her arms held up at right angles like a traffic cop. “I feel like I’m being gift-wrapped.”
Ria couldn’t think of a better way to describe it herself, especially since Nikhil was watching her as though she were a midwife delivering their first child. She adjusted the fabric on Jen’s shoulder, pinned it in place with a safety pin, and turned Jen around to face Nikhil. “Nikhil, your wedding present.”
Nikhil looked smitten.
No surprise, because Jen was stunning. The jade silk brought out the golden glow of her skin and the deep black of her hair and eyes. “Jen, you look absolutely gorgeous. Manish is going to put you on a billboard, I swear.”
“Thanks.”
Jen speaking in monosyllables was not a good thing and Ria had never heard her mumble. She tucked a lock of hair behind Jen’s ear. “Why don’t you try to walk around a bit? It doesn’t come off when you move, I promise.”
Jen took two steps forward like a wind-up doll and stopped. “But how do you move in this thing? It’s tied around me like a bandage. Shit, what am I going to do?” She stared at herself in the mirror not seeing what Ria and Nikhil saw. “I don’t think I can do this. And the wedding is ten days away.” She turned to Ria, her panic real and clear in her eyes. “You have to help me.”
Ria had never been able to expose her own fears to anyone. She had never been able to ask for help. Something incredibly sweet warmed inside her and she gave Jen another hug.
“Jen, you’re going to be fine. Millions of women wear saris. And most of them aren’t brilliant surgeons who work miracles under the worst possible conditions. Trust me, you can do this.”
Jen’s shoulders sunk even lower. Nikhil took a few restless steps back and forth and wrung his hands. He tried to rub Jen’s shoulders again, but she gave him such a fierce look he turned to Ria looking so helpless Ria wanted to photograph it for posterity.
“Okay, guys, time to relax. I know exactly what to do.” Ria picked up the midnight-blue sari. “Nikhil, out.” She pushed Nikhil out of the room. “Go get us some coffee.”
Then she stripped off her jeans and pulled on the blouse and petticoat. The blouse was too short and too loose on
“I have a few ideas,” Nikhil said, rubbing her shoulders, and planted a kiss on her neck.
She didn’t react.
“Nikhil, let’s focus on putting the clothes on right now, not taking them off, okay?” Ria said, smiling, and unfurled the midnight-blue silk across the bed.
Nikhil laughed, but his eyes stayed on Jen, who continued to stare at the saris nervously. “I’ve never worn a sari in my life. And the wedding is in twelve days.” She gnawed at a cuticle.
Ria slung the jade silk over Jen’s shoulder. “Really, Jen, it’s not hard once you get the hang of it. Here, let’s drape one on you and you’ll see how easy it is. Don’t worry, we’re going to turn you into the perfect desi bride.”
Given what a desi- phile Jen was and how naturally she took to everything Indian, her nervousness was adorable, and Ria gave her a quick hug. She had no doubt Jen was going to be dancing the bhangra in her sari before she knew it. “You already know more about Indian history and culture than both Nikhil and me put together, and by the end of today, you’ll be better at wearing Indian clothes than us too.”
“Ria’s right,” Nikhil said, “I can already see Aie rubbing it in my face. ‘For shame, Nic, learn something from your fiancée!’” He waved his hands about and did a perfect imitation of Uma Atya.
Ria smiled and zipped up Jen’s blouse. Then knotted the skirt-like petticoat at her waist and wrapped the sari around her, pleating and tucking the slippery fabric in place. Jen stood there stiffly, her arms held up at right angles like a traffic cop. “I feel like I’m being gift-wrapped.”
Ria couldn’t think of a better way to describe it herself, especially since Nikhil was watching her as though she were a midwife delivering their first child. She adjusted the fabric on Jen’s shoulder, pinned it in place with a safety pin, and turned Jen around to face Nikhil. “Nikhil, your wedding present.”
Nikhil looked smitten.
No surprise, because Jen was stunning. The jade silk brought out the golden glow of her skin and the deep black of her hair and eyes. “Jen, you look absolutely gorgeous. Manish is going to put you on a billboard, I swear.”
“Thanks.”
Jen speaking in monosyllables was not a good thing and Ria had never heard her mumble. She tucked a lock of hair behind Jen’s ear. “Why don’t you try to walk around a bit? It doesn’t come off when you move, I promise.”
Jen took two steps forward like a wind-up doll and stopped. “But how do you move in this thing? It’s tied around me like a bandage. Shit, what am I going to do?” She stared at herself in the mirror not seeing what Ria and Nikhil saw. “I don’t think I can do this. And the wedding is ten days away.” She turned to Ria, her panic real and clear in her eyes. “You have to help me.”
Ria had never been able to expose her own fears to anyone. She had never been able to ask for help. Something incredibly sweet warmed inside her and she gave Jen another hug.
“Jen, you’re going to be fine. Millions of women wear saris. And most of them aren’t brilliant surgeons who work miracles under the worst possible conditions. Trust me, you can do this.”
Jen’s shoulders sunk even lower. Nikhil took a few restless steps back and forth and wrung his hands. He tried to rub Jen’s shoulders again, but she gave him such a fierce look he turned to Ria looking so helpless Ria wanted to photograph it for posterity.
“Okay, guys, time to relax. I know exactly what to do.” Ria picked up the midnight-blue sari. “Nikhil, out.” She pushed Nikhil out of the room. “Go get us some coffee.”
Then she stripped off her jeans and pulled on the blouse and petticoat. The blouse was too short and too loose on
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