Mayūra

They sat, and everyone took up their food. Ro and Pallavi looked at Christopher with amusement as he dug into his food. He hadn't been kidding when he said he was hungry. After a few moments, he looked up and grinned.

"My apologies. Hunger made my manners go out the window," he said. "And Pallavi? There's no possible way your mother's butter chicken is better than this."

She smiled to let him know that was the correct answer. She didn't look at Ro, so she was sure he had missed a lesson on flattering a woman.

"I'm glad you enjoy it. There's plenty if you want more or if you want some to take with lunch for you tomorrow."

"He'll need it," Ro said. "The rest of this week is looking quite busy. Everybody's excited you're coming back, both students and faculty. There will be a line to monopolize your time. If you want, I can start telling you what some the...."

Ro droned on. Pallavi dreaded this supper would be like the meals she endured with faculty members and their spouses. The men talking shop, the women struggling to find something in common to talk about.

Christopher, mercifully, stepped in.

"Ro, I'm sure there's plenty there, and I'm happy to get into it with you tomorrow. But over this wonderful supper, I'd love to talk about anything other than work, if that's ok," he said. It wasn't mean, but there was a certain level of mentor scolding his student for a lapse. Ro nodded and apologized.

"First, your home is lovely," he said. Pallavi smiled. It was the safest kind of talk you could have in polite company.

"Well, one day, we'll have something larger, but it'll do for now," Ro said.

"More for me to clean," Pallavi caught herself saying, smiling to let everyone know she was joking. She wasn't, though. It was a modest townhouse within walking distance of the university campus. The ground floor was a kitchen, dining room, living room and a small bathroom. Upstairs was the main bedroom, bathroom, guest room, and a room Ro had converted into a study. Off the kitchen led to a modest and neglected backyard. Ro had neither the time nor the skill to bring it to life. Pallavi had tried one year but found that whatever green thumb she'd had in India hadn't translated to Canada.

"I never got much chance to talk to you last time, Pallavi. I know Ro was born in Canada, but judging by the accent, I assume you weren't?"

"No, I was born in a small place, by Indian standards, in the south called Karaikudi. I went to university in the area. I actually have a degree in business. After I graduated, our parents arranged for our marriage. And here we are," she said, smiling and taking Ro's hand, who smiled back at her.

The volume of things she skipped over in that recap was vast. Fighting with her parents over the marriage. She threatened to run away rather than forcibly move to Canada, away from everything and everyone she loved. Pallavi felt like her parents were casting her away. But she was the youngest daughter. They had not married her off at 18. She had the privilege of attending university because her family was affluent.

And then the bill had come due. Pallavi met Ro when she was 23. They married when she was 24 and moved to Kingston, Ontario, shortly afterwards. She hadn't been back home since. There were times when the ache was unbearable.

Christopher noticed there was more to the story and perhaps not the kind of thing to discuss over supper.

"You haven't tried to start your own business or anything since coming here? I bet you would do well with it," he said.

She smiled. "And what would make you think that?"

"You strike me as a brilliant, confident woman. You could do most things you set your mind to."

She was about to respond when Ro interjected.

"Starting a business in Canada can be expensive and complicated if you're new to the country. Plus, she has plenty to keep her busy with at home. And we are trying for a family as well," he said.

Again, Christopher nodded and took a mouthful of food rather than say anything. Pallavi had wanted to start a business when she first arrived. Ro and their families promised they would support the idea. It was one of the things that made her cave. She wanted to stay in India, but coming to Canada, starting her own business and becoming successful had an allure.

But shortly after she arrived, the excuses started. Ro was still establishing himself at the university and needed her support. They had to get a loan to buy the house, so there wasn't enough money for her to get a business loan. They were going to try for a family, so why start a business when she would have to give it up once she had children?

But the kids never came. And things stalled.

"Ah, I almost forgot," Christopher said, reaching under the table. "If I'm staying here, it's only fair I give you some gifts in appreciation."

It was a plain black bag, but two things came out. To Ro, he handed a wrapped box, which was obviously alcohol. To her, a smaller, square box. She was dying to know what it was but waited for Ro to react first.

"You didn't need to do this, Chris. I told you it's our pleasure to give you a place to stay for a few weeks. I'm not where I am now without you," he said.

Christopher reached over, put his hand on her husband's shoulder, and smiled at him.

"I keep telling you, you were well on the way. I saved you a few months..."

"More like a few years," Ro said. He took the box and opened it. He pulled out what appeared to be a costly bottle of alcohol. Ro looked at it and hugged it to his body. It's not that her husband was much of a drinker. He just had expensive taste. Which meant he very rarely indulged.

"This is too much," Ro said.

"Nonsense," Chris said. "But if it makes you feel any better, the university gave me an expense account. We both know your Dean is not exactly a details man."

Ro laughed and clasped Chris's arm and thanked him again. And then he noticed the box sitting on the table before her.

"And what did you get?"

Pallavi opened the box after using her nails to make quick work of the ribbon. It appeared to be a lovely and expensive gold bracelet on first inspection. She held it up, still in the box, and showed her husband.

"It's lovely, Chris. I'll echo my husband from a few minutes ago. You didn't need to," she said.

"It was the least I could do for your hospitality. I saw it and thought it would look lovely on you," he said.

"I'm covered for the moment," she said, holding up her arms and showing her bangles while laughing. "But I'll model it for you another day."

Neither of them had given away what it actually was. It wasn't a bracelet for Pallavi's wrist. It was an anklet. She shuddered at the thought of him placing it around her ankle.

The rest of supper was more idle chat, but it shifted towards Chris and what he had been doing the last year. She and Ro were much more comfortable talking about him than their lives.

He'd been busy. Pallavi already knew he had been to Japan but also spent some time in Australia, Turkey, Italy, and Ireland.

"Ireland is where home is for you?" Pallavi asked. "I noticed the hint of an accent."

"Well, where my sister is. Our parents are gone, and I travel so much that I don't have a 'home.' Not like this one, anyway. My sister is kind enough to put up with me for the few weeks where I have no engagements," he said.

"No home? That sounds very lonely," she said, and meant it. Even with all the travelling Ro told her that Chris did, she assumed he must have a home somewhere.

"The world is my home," he replied, smiling. Pallavi could not tell if he meant that or if he was shielding himself from something.

After the dessert of cider masala poached pears, and some tea, Ro pushed back from the table.

"Would you care to help me with the excellent Scotch you've brought? We can go upstairs to my den," he said.

"Oh no, I should help Pallavi. My mother would haunt me if I didn't help with clean-up after a meal like that," he said, moving to grab the dessert plates.

"Your mother sounds like she brought up excellent manners in you, Chris. But in this case, you're fine. It's only a few things," Pallavi said. She omitted all the dishes from making supper sitting in the sink. "Have your nightcap. Your room is ready if you wish to crash."

He seemed in pain, even as Ro dragged him towards the stairs.

"You'll be downstairs alone..."

"Well, I'm a night owl. I'm often up late reading after Ro goes to bed," she said. Noticing her husband wasn't looking, she gave him a look indicating his company would be welcome later.

He nodded. "I'll come down and wish you a good night before bed."

Pallavi nodded and went about cleaning up. After they went upstairs, she took the anklet out of the box. It was 18k gold and had a subtle engraved design around it. But it also had a chain leading to a toe ring. On the ring, there was an extra adornment. On closer inspection, she saw it was a real pearl.

"My goodness, Christopher," she said to herself. This wasn't something he picked up at a duty-free gift shop. Like a bottle of Scotch, for example. He put some thought into this gift for her.

She placed the box and the anklet in the living room and spent most of the next hour tidying. After that, she freshened up in the bathroom. As she walked to the living room, she paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened. She could hear Chris and Ro's voice. Then, there was some laughter. Chris's laugh was rich and gave her a warm feeling. She recognized the off-kilter laugh from her husband. He was already drunk. She made a note to have her hangover remedy ready for Ro. He had to work tomorrow, too. She didn't envy his students.

She sat on the couch with the drapes partially opened. It was a full moon tonight, and she liked its light. Miserably, it was getting colder already. When she first came from India, people joked that the cold must bother her. And she'd smile and say it took some adjusting. But Kariakudi was in the Tamil Nadu region in south India. It was always hot there.

When her Canadian neighbours complained about the heat during the summer, it was the only time Pallavi felt comfortable. Sometimes, she feared she might freeze to death in January and February.

After another hour, she heard some moving and shuffling around upstairs. She guessed it was Chris helping Ro to bed. The butterflies in her stomach became more active. She heard some noise in the upstairs bathroom and then the sound of someone coming down the stairs. Someone heavier than Ro.

He walked into the living room, and she noted he had changed. Gone was the white dress shirt and now he was wearing something linen. It was complimentary on him as it showed off more of his chest. The bit of chest hair she could see matched the salt and pepper of his hair and beard.

"Have you tucked in my wayward husband, Christopher?" she asked. She stretched out on the couch, facing the stairs and pretending to look at her laptop. She placed herself like this, allowing him to stare at her legs and feet. On the coffee table was the anklet resting on top of the box.

"I keep forgetting how light your husband's tolerance for alcohol is," he said, sitting on the other end of the couch. Her stretched-out feet were a few inches away from him. She looked at him over the top of her laptop screen and smiled.

"No, you didn't," she said.

He then gave her the smile. The one that gave her flutters every time she thought about it for the past year.

"No, I didn't. You're right," Christopher said. "I felt bad about last year. I wanted to ensure we had more uninterrupted time."

Pallavi placed the laptop on the table and looked at him. She'd wanted to be alone with Christopher for the last year. So now what? She stretched and flexed her feet, noticing as his eyes gravitated towards them.

"I've had a lot of time to consider that evening, Christopher. Do you normally come on so strong to women at parties, and to one married to someone who considers you a mentor?" she asked. It came out stronger than expected, so she still had unresolved emotions from that night.

He nodded his head. "That's fair. I know I have a reputation as a rogue and a lady's man, and there's some truth to that. But I was genuinely stricken when I saw you. You are a stunning woman," he said.

She smiled. Pallavi was as susceptible to a compliment from a handsome man as the next woman.

"Also, I felt some guilt."

"Guilt? Because you flirted with me?"

"No," he said, and she saw he was looking for the right words. "Ro calls me his mentor, but I was his advisor when he got his Ph.D. He was...is...brilliant. I tried to caution him not to be so consumed because it wasn't healthy. Go out and find someone. But he never did. And when I saw he couldn't change, I encouraged his more workaholic tendencies."

Pallavi sighed.

"There are times he forgets I'm here. I swear I speak sometimes, and he looks at me like a piece of furniture has come to life," she said. "I know he works hard. I respect that. But he's never found a balance."

"I know. Watching Ro get like that and thank me for it...he's one of the reasons I gave up my job and started to travel. On the one hand, he's brilliant. But, he would only ever be that. Academically brilliant, but having no life. I decided I didn't want to be like that, or to encourage it in others. So I quit. I started lecturing and consulting around the world to see new things.

"My condolence was that he would never find the time to get married. And then I arrive here, and he points out his wife, and I see you," he said.

Pallavi felt her stomach sink listening to Christopher's confession.

"Are you saying you flirted with me out of pity? That you believed Ro was incapable of being a good husband, so you felt bad for me," Pallavi said, her temper rising. Her feet moved further away from him.

"God, no," he said. "I flirted with you because you were the most beautiful woman in the room. One look at you and I could tell you were bored and needed something to bring a spark back to your life. Except once I started and you responded so passionately, I knew I wanted more," he said.

Her face softened, but she was unwilling to let him off the hook.

"I was Chris over supper, but now I'm Christopher. Why the change?" he asked, trying to move away from the topic.

"I've decided I like how Christopher sounds on my lips. Chris is a boy's name; Christopher is a man's name," Pallavi said, hoping he picked up on the hint. She didn't need a penitent boy. She wanted the confident man from last year. "I'm not some pretty caged bird for you to rescue, Christopher."

"No, of course you're not. My apologies," Christopher said. Then a thought occurred to him. "What kind of bird are you then?"

The question surprised and delighted her. Now she would let him get away with changing the topic. She smiled, put a finger to her lips, and carefully considered it.

"You're putting some thought into this."

"I am. Birds are significant in Hindu culture. They feature heavily in our stories and myths. It is no idle question to ask me what kind of bird I see myself as," she said.

"Does that make you a divine being?"

"Only to you, my dear. Now hush."

She thought for a few moments more, as much to draw out the anticipation with Christopher.

"Perhaps a peacock," she said at last.

"Because it's a beautiful bird?" he asked.

"No, nothing quite so simple as that," Pallavi chastised gently. "A peacock represents spring, new growth, long life and love in India. They bring luck and prosperity. They are one of the most important spiritual birds in the country. Also, in Sanskrit, my name means new life, a new shoot. So it works well together."

"Mmmm," Christopher said.

"Oh, you disagree?"

"Not at all. I love everything you said. But after I met you, I was curious about your name because it's lovely. So, I knew about the new growth. But I also read someone with that name is highly focused and achievement-oriented. That doing unimportant activities may frustrate you," he said. "A name can be just a name, of course. My name means 'Christ-bearer,' which I doubt my parents ever knew. They liked the name. Plus. I'm an atheist.

"So perhaps your parents just liked the name. But I look at a woman like you in this situation. You're a homekeeper and wife to a kind, but oblivious, academic husband. I wonder if you're not frustrated."

She curled back up and withdrew her legs, which had been resting near Christopher. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at him.

"That is a curious method of seduction. First, you imply that you flirted with me out of pity and now you're telling me I'm wasting my life. Does it work on the others?"

"There is no other woman like you," he said.

"Oh please. Before tonight, you knew me for 15 minutes," Pallavi said, standing up. She was of half a mind to go upstairs and join Ro in bed. A year of fantasizing about the man ruined was almost more than she could stand.

"I wanted you to woo and seduce me. To have the charming, literate man I saw last year sweep me off my feet and give me a fantasy come to life. I have wanted this for a year. And then you psycho-analyse me and conclude I'm wasting my life. Good night."

She started to leave the room when he called out to her.

"I've dreamed of you as well, you know," he said. Pallavi paused by the door frame. "It didn't take me 15 minutes to know there was no one else like you. I knew it the instant I saw you.

"I wish I could take Ro with me. On my travels, I mean," he said hastily. "Not to take him away from you so you could escape or anything foolish like that. But so that I could see more of the world. See the women that I see. Then, at the end of it, he could return home and realize what beauty he has in his own home that he takes for granted."

Ok, that was a good line. Perhaps even sincere. Pallavi looked at Christopher again, her irritation at him easing.

"There are four billion women in the world, and none are so fair as I am?" she said, the teasing clear in her voice.

"Well, I haven't met them all yet," he said, grinning at her.

She stood in the door frame, looking at him sitting on the couch. She had her arms crossed under her breasts and could feel her foot tapping as she pondered what to do. That's when she noticed his eyes fixated on her moving foot. That made up her mind.

"Wait here a moment," she said, leaving the living room. She went to the bathroom down the hall, found what she was looking for and returned. He hadn't moved and she was pleased to see he looked relieved at her return. She sat back down on the couch and stretched her legs towards him. She could tell he wanted to reach out and touch her. She wanted him to. But, first things first. She tossed a bottle at him.

"Your atonement for insulting your host," Pallavi said.

She could tell he was about to protest that he meant no insult. Then he looked at the bottle and saw it was Aroma Magic Foot Cream. Pallavi pulled the skirt up to her knees, lifted her right foot and wiggled her toes at him.

"Time to get to work, Christopher."

He took her foot in his hand, looking nervous. She stared at him and smiled, finding his nervousness empowering. It was nice not only to have a man want her, but to have one respectful of her. It had been too long for that as well. He took the lotion from the bottle, warmed it in his hands, and began working his fingers over the top of her right foot.

It felt like long-forgotten magic. A surge of energy that radiated upwards. Pallavi always enjoyed having her feet massaged and touched. It had been one of the first things she had tried to teach Ro. But much like the rest of their intimacy, it had fallen by the wayside over the years. And now Christopher was reminding her why she loved it so much.