Late Bloomers by Deepa Varadarajan

Author:Deepa Varadarajan [Varadarajan, Deepa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2023-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

“Did you get my note?” Denise eyed me in the mirror. She held a pearl earring shaped like a raindrop against her ear. She wrinkled her nose, apparently unsatisfied with the look, and replaced the pearl with a diamond stud.

We were in the bedroom. I’d finally gotten Alok to sleep, and now I was sprawled on the bed, elbows folded beneath my head, watching Denise get ready for a banquet.

Or was it a gala? I could never tell the difference. Was there even a difference? Anyway, it was a dressy event celebrating some laudable civil rights organization. The firm, in an effort to demonstrate their public interest street cred (aka “we’re not just soulless moneymaking assholes whoring ourselves to the financial services industry”), had purchased an entire table at the event. Our original plan had been for me to go too, and for Yvette to stay on through the evening. But having forgotten all about that plan, I’d sent her home early and whisked Alok to the park.

Denise had returned from work at seven, practically sprinting through the door. “I’m so late. We’ll never make it on time.” Spotting me in cargo shorts stacking Legos with Alok on the floor, she did a double-take: “Wait, why aren’t you dressed?” She scanned the room. “Where’s Yvette?”

I’d been so eager to spin my early afternoon home as an example of exemplary fatherhood, that I’d cluelessly boasted, “I sent her home early so Alok and I could have an afternoon of father-son bonding. We went to the park. We ate mac ’n’ cheese. And now it’s Lego time. Right, little man? High-five.” I stuck my hand out and Alok swiped back, barely missing it. I tickled Alok’s chest, unleashing a torrent of baby giggles. I looked up at Denise and grinned, inviting her to bask in my glorious display of fatherhood.

Instead, she dropped her office tote on the ground with a thud, disappeared into the bedroom, and reappeared holding a hanger with a beaded black gown. “Gala. Tonight. Yvette was supposed to babysit. Any of this ring a bell?”

At that moment, Alok slammed his hand through the Lego stack, sending the colored blocks clanking to the ground. He laughed and said, “uh-oh,” an expression he’d picked up recently and seemed to use with uncanny timing.

“Uh-oh,” I repeated. “Well, just go without me. No one will even notice I’m not there. I’m just a lowly associate. You’re a partner. And you like these events more than I do anyway. I’ll put Alok to sleep while you finish getting ready.” I should have felt bad about forgetting, but I was relieved not to go.

Denise had shrugged then, either too tired or too indifferent to protest.

The afternoon of park and sun had sent Alok to sleep faster than usual, and so now I watched as Denise made her last touches—dabbing perfume on her wrists, buckling the straps of silver, stiletto sandals around her slim ankles.

“Well?” She stood in front of me, hands on hips.

“You look fantastic, babe.

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