Once Upon A Mr. Goody Two Shoes

Chapter 43 - part 1

"We can go back. It isn't necessary that we speak right away, is it?" I chuckled nervously as I stared at the dark mahogany door before me, the swastiks and 'shubh labh' pasted on the door mocking me as I tried to gulp down the building anxiety. Abeer rolled his eyes at me.

"You were the one who booked the tickets for today, didn't you?" He raised his brows and stared me down, making me wince.

"I'm foolish. I have always been foolish. Plus, I booked the tickets at 3 AM in the morning with a sleep-deprived head. Surely such decisions don't count, do they?"

"You said you made the decision to marry me at 3 AM. That doesn't count then?" Abeer said dryly, leaning against the wall. I didn't say anything and simply stared at the door to my parents house. The door when opened would change everything. We had flown down to Mumbai after the proposal yesterday. I had booked the tickets to Mumbai the very night I had decided to marry Abeer. It had felt romantic then; it felt downright foolish now.

"Do you really want to marry me?" I suddenly asked, whipping my head to face Abeer. He closed his eyes in exasperation.

"Yes," he opened his eyes and stared intently at me. I nodded sagely.

"And you still would like to after you discover what a mayhem you're marrying into?" I looked up at him with the most innocent look on my face, making him purse his lips. He looked close to strangulation.

"Yes," he bit out, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check.

I nodded again. "Then you're a fool."

H exhaled loudly but did not say anything. "I think we should leave. I don't even think they might be in there. I mean, its 11AM and at that time they do...something. Its basically not the right - " I started in an over-excited voice and turned to leave when Abeer grabbed me by my arm and glared at me crossly.

"Aashi Singhania, we're ringing the doorbell now! No excuses, no chickening out, nothing other than meeting your parents and convincing them."

I pouted at him and flashed him the cutest look I could manage. It had worked wonders all these years. Heck, even my mother had relented to quite a few things because of it. My father fled the place when I had that look in my eyes, knowing he would acquiesce to anything under the influence of that. Surely there was no one who could resist that? Unless apparently Abeer. I grumbled under my breath about him being a cold-hearted Bengali man as he pulled me beside him and nudged to ring the bell.

"Aashi," he said gently. "Do it," he smiled at me and nodded. I sighed loudly and rang the doorbell.

Ting Tong.

We stood with bated breath as the ring of the bell sounded in the house, heralding our arrival. I clenched and unclenched my fist as the two of us waited in pin drop silence. And then it happened. The mahogany door swung open, revealing my mother on the opposite side, with a cooking spoon in her hand. Her mouth opened to say something but nothing came out as she stared at me, her chin slack and eyes wide with surprise.

"Mom," I managed a crooked smile to go with the over-zealous 'mom' I had uttered. Her jaw dropped, she pursed her lips as she continued to stare at me, condemning my very existence with a single look of hers. I kept the forced smile plastered on my face.

"Who has come?" My father asked from behind, seated on his chair with the newspaper pulled open on his lap.

"Look for yourself," mom bit out and made way for my father to see the two of us standing on the perch, looking absolutely uncomfortable and weirdly out of place.

"Aashi," my father said quietly as he stood up and crossed the room to where our trio stood, his face grave. I swallowed. My father had never once greeted me like this in all the years gone by. He always had a smile, or just the excitement in his eyes was enough to show how pleased he was to see his daughter back home. Today, he simply stood there gazing at me intently.