(2007)
1
Rosemary and Mint Hotel Shampoo (2007)
Kiss to say, honey, I’m home.
‘Hello, Mrs Sabharwal.’
Peg rolled her eyes.
‘I’ve told you, I’m not changing my name.’
‘I know, but today—’
‘That’s not how it works, you don’t own me because a year has passed, I’m not a washing machine that you bought in Walmart.’
A smile from Devansh.
‘You remembered!’
Kiss to say, of course you remembered.
Pause to savour the scent of New York City on an April evening: young love and fast food and the promise of heat.
Pause to detect something else.
‘You smell nice!’
‘Don’t sound so surprised.’
‘What is that smell?’
‘I showered after swimming. Borrowed some lady’s fancy shampoo.’
Kiss to avoid questions about rosemary and mint hotel shampoo.
Kiss to avoid questions about what Peg was doing in a hotel on a Tuesday afternoon.
Peg removed the wine and take-out containers and brandished a brown paper bag.
‘One year: paper!’
Kiss to reward ingenuity.
‘Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to cook.’
‘We can have a feast.’
‘We can’t have Chinese with pasta.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ll put some of this in the fridge …’
‘Come here.’
Kiss to stop motion.
‘You are looking sexy today!’
Peg opened the wine.
‘Today?’
Kiss to demonstrate love in the face of provocation.
‘You know I’d never be down on the librarian chic.’
‘I know.’
Peg found a way to take a sip of wine.
‘I had a meeting in the morning with a potential dissertation supervisor.’
‘And you thought you’d seduce them into accepting you.’
‘Exactly.’
A gulp of wine to wash down a lie.
‘Let me know if you need a reference. I’m happy to vouch for your many attributes.’
‘Generous.’
‘I’ll write a letter about your exceptional fingers which are excellent at typing …’
Kiss to demonstrate a relationship between word and thing.
‘… and I can recommend your ears which can listen to lots of lectures …’
Kiss to tickle.
‘… and these eyes …’
Kiss to touch.
‘I’m starting to feel like Red Riding Hood.’
‘Does that make me the wolf?’
‘Mmmm, you’re more of a bear.’
Kiss to say, fuck you, my love.
Kiss to say, Happy Wedding Anniversary.
Kiss to say, let’s fuck across the counter amid knives and chopped peppers.
Kiss to say, yes.
Kiss to say, let’s go.
Kiss to say, but not now, first, the dinner.
Pause to chop basil and let feelings settle.
‘So, Ashima asked me to be Sara’s godfather.’
‘What?’
‘They’re having her baptized. You know what Gabriel’s like and Ashima doesn’t care but she thinks she can get Sara into some fancy-ass Catholic school, like she can’t think of a worse fate for her child than public school.’
Shoulder-rub to comfort an underpaid, overworked public high school teacher.
‘You think I’m godfather material?’
‘Keep up that belly you’ll be fat enough.’
‘Whata ar’ya talkin’ about?’
Kiss to stop impersonations.
‘I couldn’t go to the gym today; I was doing important research about this godfathering business.’
Peg walked over to Dev’s laptop, knowing, before she looked, the site that would be open.
‘Wikipedia is gymnastics of the mind.’
‘Ha.’
‘And I’ve been getting this sauce ready.’
Kiss to display gratitude.
Kiss to atone for judgement of Wikipedia reading and editing as an appropriate pastime.
Kiss to atone.
Pause to acknowledge the difficulty of approaching the topic of Peg Doyle’s family.
‘What were your godparents like?’
Peg’s godmother was Aunty Mary.
‘I’m not really in touch with them.’
But what was there to say about Aunty Mary?
‘Were they relatives?’
Irish
