Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 19 - Irksome

Arnav hurried back to Laxminagar after discussing some work with Aman, hoping that everyone was still out and that Khushi was by herself at home.

Sadly, it turned out they were back. Garima Aunty and Buaji were sitting in the living room with a tired-looking woman, tea and samosas in front of them.

"Arey, babua, you're back," Buaji said when she saw him. "This is Nandini, our neighbor. Her daughter Preeto is Khushi's childhood friend. She's getting married tomorrow."

Nandini turned to him and folded her hands together in a namaste, the smallness of her smile rivaling Arnav's. He pursed his lips and nodded in greeting.

"Well, god-willing, everything will go well," she said about her daughter's wedding.

"Nandkishore, everything will go perfectly," Buaji added.

"I pray that it will. The boy is from a rich family, and although they are nice, we can't help being worried. The expenses have been quite difficult, but we didn't want to leave any room for criticism," Nandini replied.

Arnav, who had made his way to Khushi's room, paused in his tracks at this.

"That's how it is," Garima Aunty said sympathetically.

"Yes. You married off two daughters at once; you must have had a hard time," Nandini continued.

Arnav glanced over his shoulder at the women and saw that Khushi was standing behind her Amma and Buaji, looking straight at him.

"Oh," Buaji said in a falsely cheery voice. "Everything went well, thanks to Nandkishore," and she too looked across the room at him.

"Would you like some tea, son?" Garima asked his retreating back.

"Uh." He glanced at Khushi's stony face. "Sure."

"I have to make it; I didn't make any without sugar," Khushi said to her mother with ill grace.

"Oh, it's okay then—" Arnav began to say, but Buaji interrupted her.

"That's no trouble; Khushi will make some more for you, Arnav babua. Go, butterfly," she prodded Khushi with her eyes.

He followed Khushi's huffing figure to the kitchen. "I'm fine; you don't have to—"

But she was already plonking her small tea saucepan on the stove with unwarranted aggression. No point arguing then.

"So, your friend is getting married," he said after a pause. "You'll be going?"

"It's next door," she replied. Arnav knew she was rolling her eyes, even though she had her back to him. "We will be helping out."

He remembered Akash and Payal's wedding and how Khushi had single-handedly fed all the wedding guests. Or maybe not so single-handedly—he had helped.

"You want me to help serve relatives again?" he asked with a grin. It was a fond memory. "I know where to get the pattal," referring to the dried-leaf plates she had accidentally fed to a cow because she had been too busy staring at him.

She paused in the middle of grinding ginger and turned around to look at him. "You don't have to come."

"But—I mean, it's going to be noisy with a wedding next door. I won't be able to get any work done anyway," he said, swallowing his disappointment. She didn't want him around?

"You can go to the office; I won't consider it losing the bet."

He stood behind her as she made the tea, watching her despondently. She watched the tea boil, turned it off, poured it out into a small cup, and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her gingerly, careful not to touch her fingers. She gave him a combative look, as if daring him to say something.

"This is good tea," he said, taking a sip.

"Do you want a samosa?"

"No, thanks." He wanted to make some idle conversation just to keep her there with him in the kitchen and opened his mouth to ask something random—about her friend Preeto—but she walked away.

Sighing, he followed her to the living room.

"What time is the wedding?" he asked Garima Aunty.

"It's at night, but the sangeet is earlier in the evening. I hope you won't be disturbed. Khushi said you'll be working from the office," she replied.

"Oh no, aunty, I'll be fine. I don't have anything important at work—I'll be there. I can help out. All of you will be busy," he said quickly before his wife could get a word in.

All three older women beamed at this. "You must come; everyone will be very happy to meet you, damadji," Nandini said with a smile.

"What aunty? Call her Amma," Khushi interjected.

Arnav nodded at Nandini and, ignoring Khushi, went to her room. She had to push his buttons even when he was doing his best to make it up to her. She didn't have to annoy him like that in front of this woman he had just met. Why did she always go overboard?