Finally, Dev broke it up. “Everyone, please? English?”
“Call the others for supper, Priya,” Shawan said.
Jag began escorting us to the dining room. “Mama has prepared a wonderful meal for you, Rebecca. You will enjoy it very much!”
“I’m sure I will,” I said as we walked down the hall and into a huge formal dining room, the furniture once again made of fine wood with intricate carvings. As we passed through I looked at all the photos on the walls, one of which was a young Dev graduating high school. I wanted to linger, noticing him standing next to a beautiful girl with long black hair and wide brown eyes. A slight knot formed in my stomach. Was it his ex? Sonja? They had a picture of them together on their wall?
Dev ushered me along.
Pushing my questions at the back of my mind, I focused on the evening ahead. There’d be time to ask Dev about it later.
I sat next to Dev, Priya beside me. Jag was at the head of the table, and after a moment, others began filtering in. An old couple entered dressed in traditional clothing, matching yellow turban to yellow saree, who Dev introduced as his paternal grandparents. Then, an even older woman, who Dev introduced as his maternal grandmother, also dressed traditionally in green joined us. They all smiled politely but didn’t say anything.
The table was really long, and half the settings were still unaccounted for. I thought it was odd, but let it go.
Shawan entered a moment later carrying a big, steaming pot. “Priya. Help, please?” she chastised, followed by a string of Punjabi.
Priya muttered something, also in Punjabi. Dev’s name was in there, for sure.
Soon the table was filled with dishes, each one fragrant and colourful. Before we dished up, Jag offered a prayer in Punjabi. I followed along, holding my hands together and lowering my gaze, but snuck a look up to see Priya’s eyes were open, too. She gave me a small smile before I looked away, embarrassed I’d been caught peeking.
Not familiar with the food, Priya explained each of the dishes and served me. All the while, Jag asked questions. It was hard for me to focus on exactly what Priya was saying while trying to hold a conversation, which dishes were which and the spice levels she thought would be fine for me. Aloo baingan, sabzi, rajma… it all started blending together on my plate, my ability to discern each item lessening with each addition.
“So, Rebecca, Dev says you’re an engineer?” Jag asked.
“Not exactly, no.” I didn’t expand on why, and my face flushed with shame. I was trying to endear his parents to me; failing my final exam wasn’t going to help my case.
“But she has two degrees in engineering,” Dev added, keeping the conversation flowing. I gave him a thankful look.
“That’s wonderful!” Jag said. “What made you want to get into engineering?”
Shawan glanced up from her plate, but the look she gave me, one eyebrow slightly raised, was not entirely encouraging.
“Well, I was always interested in how things worked and why. When I was a kid, I’d take things apart to see if I could put them back together again. Once I broke the family TV. Couldn’t put that back together, though. Mom was pretty mad about that,” I paused as Dev and his dad chuckled. “My dad is an amateur mechanic, and my brother and I spent a lot of time out in the garage with him. My older brother went into engineering, too.”
Jag smiled. “Ah, so following big brother’s footsteps?”
I forced a smile. Now wasn’t the time to delve into the painful and somewhat embarrassing history between my brother and I. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Your father is a mechanic?” Jag asked, moving the conversation along.
“Um, no. He worked for the City of Vancouver. In the waste management department.” I knew it was nothing to be ashamed of. He’d worked very hard to provide for his family and retired with a full pension. Even so, I hated seeing the look on people’s faces when they realized what it meant, or if they reiterated asking, ‘Oh, he was a garbage man?’
“And your mother, what does she do?” Shawan asked.
“She worked in the local elementary school.”
“A teacher?”
“A teacher’s assistant,” I corrected.
“Amazing they managed to put two children through University on such modest incomes,” Shawan stated between bites. Dev tensed beside me.
“Actually, I put myself through school. Working, and loans.” I placed my hand on Dev’s thigh under the table.
Gently, he took my hand in his, gave it a light squeeze, and then removed it from his leg back to my own before returning to his meal. A little confused, I looked over at him and noticed disapproving glances from his grandparents across the table. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, wondering if I’d done or said something to upset him, and took a bite of what looked like kidney beans in sauce.
“Engineering, that’s interesting. Not enough women go into STEM fields.” Shawan stated.