After 5 years one tends to forget the intense heat of Indian summer.I went to Priya's room to grab some clothes and my towel but when I turned the knob I noticed that she was on the phone to her friend. This is what I heard. ''Yeah I know but that was a long time ago, no I dumped him last month he got a little too grabby. Yeah I went to pick up my cousin from the airport. He's cute but I don't know he seems to privileged coming from the UK and everything. Shut up! I told you that in confidence I saw it once when we played doctor as kids. It wasn't very big''.I decided to ask my aunty for a towel, clearly Priya was talking about me, I remembered playing doctor when we were 7-8 years old. I had of course grown since then it still hurt me that Priya was speaking about me in a bad way behind my back. Half way through my shower Priya walked into the bathroom. ''Oh, sorry, didn't know anyone was in here''. She closed the door but not before she got an eyeful of my junk.During dinner Priya. Christopher was eight now — my God, eight already. He saw the boy standing at the edge of the sea. His slim body looked like a question mark against the glittering sea. He was bending over a red plastic bucket, its content having his undivided attention. John thought how much the boy looked like the mother he never met — his eyes, especially. They were a constant reminder.Turning a bit to the right he saw a huge yellow umbrella and in its shadow the back of a woman. He knew that back — how it felt, how it smelled and tasted. He knew each sweet molecule of it. He also knew the blonde, short hair, wet now from swimming. His fingertips could even at this distance sense the soft slope of her neck, her shoulders — and parts of her body he could not see from here.He had met Amanda ("never say Mandy, please, call me Manda") at a commercial shoot. She did the catering, having her own business ("Mmmmanda!" she'd named it — who was he to call it corny? Besides, the name fit her even better than.
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