Prem stilled. What in the world were Gori’s parents doing in New York? How did they know he’d be recording?
Before the thought finished forming in his head, he knew the answer. His mother. God, how long had it been?
Prem pressed a palm against his beating heart. Most days he was okay with just the lingering reminder of his former fiancée, but sometimes, the pain was so sharp, so real, that he felt incapacitated.
But there was no way out of this.
“Prem?” Yash called again.
He shook his head and braced himself with the same resolve that he’d had to use for years after Gori’s death. “Uh, yeah. I’ll go down to the lobby to meet them,” he finally said. “Can you let them know I’ll be right there?”
“Sure thing.” Yash left the studio through the narrow exit.
Prem paced back and forth across the floor for a minute before he stepped off the stage and left through the back hallway. After grabbing his bag, he took the long way through the building, down the cement gray stairwell and into the brightly lit studio’s lobby level. The time helped him repackage all those raw feelings back into the boxes he’d put them in after Gori’s death.
After pushing through the lobby double doors, he spotted Gori’s parents in the center of the expansive space, wearing visors and fanny packs. They were about the same age as his parents, with gray streaks in their hair and lines around their mouth. However, these two had Gori’s eyes and her laugh.
There was that pang in his chest. It was so familiar, but so distant all at the same time.
“Look at those two handsome people,” Prem called from across the room. Uncle and Aunty turned at the same time. Their faces lit up when they saw him. “What a great surprise!”
“Prem!” Aunty was the first to approach him. Her white sandals had a gold paisley design at the buckle. “Darling, it’s so good to see you.”
“You look as gorgeous as ever,” he replied and returned the hug.
“Hey now, don’t make me look bad,” Uncle said in Punjabi.
“I could never,” Prem replied and turned to give Gori’s father a hug as well. The old man slapped him hard on the shoulder, a reminder of all the hugs they’d shared after he and Gori agreed to getting married.
“We were both playing tourist in New York City,” Gori’s father said. “We haven’t been in years, and we had some extra vacation time, so decided to come out and see for ourselves. And of course, while we’re here, we had to see you.”
Prem stepped back and motioned to both of them. “I’m so glad. You look like locals.”
Aunty’s face lit up with joy, and she nudged her husband in the arm. “See? We look like locals! Beta, why don’t we take you out to dinner? We can go into the city.”
Prem shook his head. “I’d love to, but I’m on call. I can’t leave Jersey City until tomorrow.”
Uncle clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, beta. We know you’re busy. We sort of sprung this on you.”
“I’m glad that you did,” Prem said, trying his best to sound . . . happy. But he didn’t want to leave them standing in the studio when they’d come all the way out just to see him. It didn’t feel right after so much shared history. So many memories. “There is a coffee shop around the corner if you’d like to take a break and sit with me for a bit?”
They both nodded, a look of excitement crossing both of their faces.
“We’d love that, beta,” Aunty said softly.
“Then let’s get going. I would love to hear all about your New York City adventure.”
He hooked an arm around her shoulders and led the way outside and down the street to a cute little shop that had large murals on brick walls and a soft instrumental track playing in the background. Prem found a table for all of them toward the back of the restaurant. Then they got in line to order. Uncle continued to chatter about stocks, and traveling, and the weather, while Aunty took pictures to send to Prem’s mother.
Once they all ordered cups of iced coffee and had their customary argument over who was paying, they sat down at the table.
“So?” Prem started. “How are things back home?”
“Oh, you know,” Aunty said, stirring two packets of Splenda into her cup. “Always busy. I saw your mother the other day. She’s worried about you, but I told her that you were always so capable of handling everything on your own. Prakash, why don’t you tell your son-in-law what you’ve been up to?”