Perfect Symmetry

My parents called me before they boarded their plane to give me their flight information and the arrival time. My dad made some humorous remark about not being snowed in at O’Hare, and I laughed and told him that if he was, he could spend his time picking up last minute Christmas presents at the duty free shopping center.

He then relayed that they would be there by noon on the 23rd, and I told him I would meet him in the arrivals lobby. I told him to have a safe flight, and then I hung up.

Viktor was free now, since the Christmas holidays in hockey had started. He offered to come with me to pick up my parents.

“I think it would be better if I went alone,” I smiled weakly, patting his chest. “I need to prepare them first.”

Viktor’s eyebrows rose. “They don’t know of my existence?”

I blushed. “Not yet. But don’t worry. They’ll be cool.”

He looked at me with big blue eyes and I almost told him that he could pick them up without me. “Don’t give me that look. You’ll meet them on Christmas Eve. That’s a pretty big deal.”

He relented, and after a kiss on the cheek, he took his leave, explaining that he had some shopping to do. “I hope it’s not Christmas shopping,” I chastised him, “Because you’ve really left it too late.”

Viktor scoffed. “Please, Jazz. You did your shopping today; I saw the bags in your bedroom.”

“I don’t know what you’ re talking about,” I replied mulishly.
I heard him laughing as he left my apartment.
~
As I stood strolled quickly through the check-in area to get to the arrivals lobby of the airport, my phone buzzed and I pulled it out to peer at the screen midstride. My attempt at multitasking bit me in the ass as I immediately ran into someone.

“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed hurriedly. I looked up to apologize again when a familiar blonde smiled at me. “Christy!”

“Long time no see, Jazz,” she laughed, pulling me in for a hug.

I winced. “I know! It’s been ages. How are things? Where are you off to?”

“Things are good; and David and I are taking a bunch of our friends to Florida!” Christy answered excitedly.

My eyes widened and I nodded politely. “Wow! Florida, nice! Are you trying to escape the cold?” I pointed to my coat.

She grasped my arm. “Yes! I hate this damn weather, even during Christmas time.”

I didn’t say anything. I loved cold weather more than any hot weather, especially during Christmas time. I would never go to Florida. “What are you doing here, Jazz?”

I smiled. “I’m picking up my parents. They’ve come to spend Christmas here.”

“Are you crazy? You passed up the chance to go back to California?” Christy replied incredulously.

I chuckled, and glanced at my watch. “Yeah, I guess I’m nuts. Anyway, have a lovely time in Florida, and call me when you get back, okay? We’ll have lunch or coffee or something. I’d better go.”

Christy hugged me again and then hurried away towards the Southwest check-in line, which was a mile long as usual.

By the time I got to the arrivals lobby, people were already pouring out, and I craned my neck to see if my parents had already emerged. They hadn’t. But, after ten minutes of waiting, I caught sight of the two of them, each pulling a small carry on bag behind them.

“Mom!” I called out, waving my hand around.

She saw me and pulled my dad in my direction, smiling broadly as she did so. She looked good. Her short dark bob was bouncing and her clothes were comfortable looking but still stylish. Dad looked the same: mostly white hair, balding, quite slim, and the usual stain on his shirt from whatever food or drink he had tried to consume on the flight.

“Jasmina,” my mom said happily, stopping her bag and giving me a warm hug, kissing me multiple times on the cheek.

I endured it bravely, hugging her back before pulling away.

“Hey Dad,” I smiled. Thankfully, his hug was brief.

I took my mom’s bag and then asked the usual questions: how was the flight, how are things back home, is Ama (my grandmother) okay. Both my parents nattered on about this and that as we reached my car.

“This old thing still works?” my dad patted the dusty roof fondly.

I rolled my eyes. “I think it’ll outlive my children.”

As we pulled onto the freeway, my mother started her complaints about how cold it was in Chicago and how her fingers were bound to get numb while she was here.

“It’s okay, Mom. I have this new-fangled thing called central heating. And if that’s not satisfactory, I just bought a new set of hot water bottles for your use,” I replied sardonically. My dad laughed in appreciation.

“Yeah, we don’t have any of that fancy heating stuff back home,” he jibed along with me.

My mom rolled her eyes. “Just like the old days of making fun of me. How is the apartment looking, Jazz. Did you paint the kitchen like you were going to?”

I nodded. “It’s done. It’s a nice shade of beige; it goes well with the backsplash.”

My mother and I could talk about home improvements for ages. So, that’s what we did all the way home. My dad fell asleep about ten minutes in.
~
I put my parents’ things in my bedroom, and explained that I would take the couch. They didn’t argue. Hailey emerged to say hello, and my mom and her talked for a while and my dad took this time to take a quick shower and then lie down for a nap.

My mom was the exact opposite; she wanted to do things, so Hailey and I took her to our local café for a late lunch at 3. She was drowsy after that, so we took her home and she fell asleep too.

Hailey and I whispered about our plans for Christmas. I realized that she was also going to Patrick and Abby’s Christmas bash, since Seabrook had asked her.

“How’s that whole thing with Brent going anyway?” I prodded her gently. “We haven’t talked about it in a while.”

Her face reddened noticeably. “It’s going really well. I really like him. What about you and Viktor? Have you...ahem?”

I laughed at her euphemisms. “Yeah, we’ve...ahemed. Thanks for asking.”

“And...it was good?” Hailey judged my expression expectantly.

The blush spread across my cheeks as I checked over my shoulder to make sure none of my parents had woken up yet.

“Yes. Very good,” my cheeks burned, “how about you?”

Hailey grinned. “All things are good on that front. Oh, the Christmas party will be so fun! Hey, do your parents even know about Viktor?”

I grimaced. “No. That’s one conversation for tomorrow. He’s coming to dinner. Are you staying? Or are you going out?”

“I think I’ll stay, if that’s alright. I haven’t really spent much time with you, and I really haven’t met Viktor officially. And plus, you might need me as a buffer when your parents attack him,” she replied with a smile.

I nodded. “I didn’t think of that! And I’m sorry we haven’t spent much time together lately. Oh, I almost forgot; guess who I saw at the airport today?”

I then proceeded to tell her about Christy, and we both gossiped about how little we saw her these days. I had forgotten how good it was to talk to Hailey. I really had missed her lately.
~
The next morning, I woke up early for once. And by early, I mean nine-thirty. Unsurprisingly, my parents woke up shortly after, and I made coffee for everyone. Hailey emerged as soon as the coffee was poured. Then we began to discuss Christmas Eve dinner.

“What have you planned for dinner, Jasmina?” my mother asked, peering into my relatively stocked fridge.

I took a sip of my coffee before replying. “I got some chicken, so I thought I would roast it - ”

My mom cut me off before I could even finish.

“Oh, chicken? Shall we make biryani?” she suggested.

My mouth watered at the idea of my mother’s freshly made biryani, chicken spicy, and rice warm and fluffy...my God.

“Wow it’s been ages since I’ve had an authentic biryani,” Hailey piped in cheerfully, “that sounds amazing.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” my dad added, “we don’t even eat rice at home anymore.”

I frowned. “The problem is, it won’t just be the four of us tonight.”

My mother’s head whipped around to study my face carefully. I knew this was coming.

“Who else will be joining us?” her voice sounded casual, but I knew she was very curious.

“Oh, just the guy I’m currently seeing, Viktor,” I tried to say it nonchalantly, but I sounded like an idiot instead.

“Ooh, you’re seeing someone?” my dad was first to respond with a smile.

I nodded, blushing. “Yes.”

“For how long?” my mom wasn’t smiling yet.

I sighed. “Just about a month now.”

“Then isn’t it a bit early for introductions?” she continued, her lips pursed in a very motherly way.

I threw my hands up in defense. “I told him it was a big step, but he insisted on meeting the two of you.”

My mom’s carefully tweezed brows rose significantly.

“He insisted?” she repeated in disbelief.

“That’s what I said,” I replied a bit cheekily.

My dad put down his iPad and looked at me properly.

“So does he not like Indian food or something?” he questioned. “Because that’s a serious factor.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I think he’s mentioned he likes Indian food, but...”

“No buts. I make the biryani and that’s the end of it,” my mom insisted.

“Could you maybe tone down the spice at least?” I begged for a compromise.

My mom didn’t reply, but she scoffed in a way that made me think that spice was one factor of the meal that she wasn’t willing to compromise on.
~
I told Viktor to come at seven, but my mother had been cooking since two. She explained to me that the chicken always tasted better when it was tenderizing in the oven for a good few hours. Hailey and I tried to help, but we usually did these wrong, so we settled for making a nice amount of yoghurt salad before turning on the TV and watching Home Alone with my dad. When the clock hit seven, we were all ready. I was wearing a nice black skirt and top, and Hailey donned a blue dress. My mother chose a pair of nice pants and a red sweater, and my dad wore whatever was on top of his suitcase.

We set the table (my mom lit candles) and I set out the plates and wiped the last countertops. There was a soft knock at the door and I leapt up to answer it. I could hear my mom put her plates down and my dad lowered the volume on the TV.

Viktor looked good as usual. He was wearing slacks and a white shirt, and his hair was slicked back and his eyes were bright. He came holding a bottle of wine.

“Hey,” I smiled nervously, letting him in.

My parents stood up to greet him, and Hailey hurried over first.

“Viktor,” she greeted warmly, “we haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Hailey; Jazz’s best friend.”

He offered her a grin. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Hailey.”

I took his arm and directed him over to my parents, both of whom were standing in the kitchen, nibbling on the cheese that was put out as an appetizer.

“Mom, dad, this is Viktor. Viktor, these are my parents,” I gave out the preliminary introductions.

“Hi Viktor,” my dad was the first to respond, offering him a hand to shake.

Viktor did so firmly, nodding politely.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Patil,” Viktor’s voice was strong and sure.

My mother hovered nervously. “It’s good to meet you,” she offered.

Viktor flashed her a winning smile. “Same here, Mrs. Patil.”

I wanted to melt into a puddle. “Something smells delicious.”

My mom blushed. “That is my famous biryani in the oven.”

“Famous?” Viktor sounded impressed.

“Well, famous in our family anyway,” I amended with a laugh.

The dinner went well. After a few minutes of light small talk, the biryani was served. Viktor was appropriately complimentary of all the food, and I squeezed his hand in gratitude. I really just wanted some time with Viktor all to myself, but I smiled at all the right places and held in my desires.

“So Viktor, what do you do for a living?” it was always my dad who asked that question.

“I’m a hockey player,” was the confident reply.

There was a short silence. “Well you seem to have all your teeth, anyway,” my dad teased.

I choked on my rice at that comment, and Viktor laughed good-naturedly.

“I’ve been lucky so far,” he admitted.

The conversation then drifted to the San Jose Sharks and how the team was doing that year. I gushed about Dan Boyle and Patrick Marleau and even Logan Couture, and Viktor listened patiently as my parents told the story of the game they had attended just last week.

“So are you a Chicago fan now Jazz?” my dad asked suspiciously.

“They’re my second favourite,” I compromised with a grin.

After dinner, we all sat down and watched the rest of Home Alone, another one of my beloved John Hughes films. It was a comedy film, and I sat innocently next to Viktor, just holding hands. Dad retired soon after, since he got tired by about nine and it was now past ten thirty.

My mom continued to make quiet small talk about hockey and Sweden and even quick tease about IKEA, which caused me to groan and face palm repeatedly. At about eleven, Viktor murmured to me that he should probably go. We both stood up, and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas and I walked him out.

The cold Chicago air bit at my shoulders as we exited my building. He turned around to ask me something and I shut him up with a kiss.

“You were amazing tonight,” I whispered. “You totally won everybody over.”

A grin spread across his face. “Really? I really wanted to.”

I kissed him again, pulling him even closer.

“Merry Christmas Viktor. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I could see my breath as I exhaled.

“You can count on it,” Viktor growled.