“Eat,” Uncle Mitul commanded, slamming his fist on the center island causing the twins to look his way. “There is nothing wrong with the food. Eat it!”
Kamran slipped out of his seat, took his sister’s hand to help her down.
“No thank you,” he said again and went to Aunt Kavya, who gathered the twins to her, creating a safe barrier between her husband and both children.
“You do as you’re told,” Uncle Mitul screamed at him, waggling a finger at them.
“Do not force them to eat that,” Anaya warned, moving to stand in front of her uncle. “You know their mother wouldn’t want them to.”
“And who are they?” Tiya said coming to stand next to their uncle. “They aren’t so special.” She ignored the spatula that Aunt Kavya whacked across her hands, and gripped Kamran’s arms. “Eat!”
Aunt Kavya shouted back at her husband in Hindi, but kept that spatula at the ready for Tiya.
“No thank you,” Kamran said, yanking from Tiya’s grasp before putting his focus on Anaya as though sending a silent message for her to intervene since Aunt Kavya and her infamous spatula wasn’t getting the message across. Anaya felt ashamed that she hadn’t been more forceful. But Aunt Kavya put in a few more whacks with the spatula causing Tiya to scream, “Ouch! Cut that out.”
“Leave them alone,” Anaya said, taking their hands in hers, allowing Aunt Kavya full access to handle Tiya. “We will not force them to eat something that is not for them.”
Kamran’s hand tightened on hers. She glanced down at him as he whispered a meek, “Thank you, Auntie Anaya. Thank you, Mumma. Thank you, Aunt Kavya.” Her heart skipped a beat when he said her name. And she felt so foolish for her jealous feelings about them. They were children, and it wasn’t their fault that their mother was forcing them into being something children should not be. Even in their manners, they were perfect and taught the rest of the children, hers included, to be more exemplary in their communications with the adults. Yet another reason Anaya realized all the things she hadn’t done.
The chime of the front door snapped everyone to attention. The sounds of happier conversations echoed all the way into the kitchen and breakfast nook. Devesh and Reign wound their way toward the place where everyone had congregated and a coil of anxiousness released in the pit of Anaya’s stomach. This was not going to be a good thing. The children were smart enough to realize that what had happened was not something their mother would approve. And Anaya didn’t think it right for her to say they shouldn’t tell Reign anything just to keep the peace.
They snatched from Anaya’s grip and ran to Reign and Devesh, holding onto them tightly enough to cause a shiver of alarm to light in Reign’s eyes. She swept a gaze across the group of women who were suddenly taking an interest in preparing other parts of the meal; and the men trying to appear indifferent to the sudden tension in the room by putting their focus on the television screen. Aunt Kavya’s grip on the spatula turned her hands red. She whacked it across Tiya’s behind, something that she’d never done to the Maharaj children when they were growing up. She also didn’t spank any of the children in her care now—only Tiya.
“I’m grown woman,” Tiya screeched.
“Then stop acting like a child,” Aunt Kavya said in Hindi.
“What happened?” Reign asked Leena.
“Tell them, Mama,” Kamran said, gesturing to the people who were posted up in the kitchen. “Tell them that we don’t eat pork.”
“I did,” she said, eyebrows drawing in, showing her confusion. “I left food for you.”
Leena pointed toward their uneaten food. Reign lowered Kamran to the carpet, and he guided her to the table. Her eagle-eyed gaze zoomed in on the contents of their uneaten meal, then squinted.
Devesh was by her side. “Reign, what’s the problem?”
“They tried to feed my children something they’ve never eaten.” She glowered at the women who were now focused on her. “Something I expressly said they didn’t eat.”
“It is my fault,” Mumma said, taking all of the blame. “I mixed up the wieners in the pan and could not tell which ones were which.”
“Mumma was going to make us Briyani. Aunt Tiya gave us that. Uncle Mitul wanted us to eat that.” Leena gestured to the plate. “Mumma didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Don’t be mad at Mumma, “Kamran said gazing up at his mother. “Aunt Anaya helped us.” Kamran flickered a look at Anaya whose heart melted and guilt set in. “Aunt Kavya, too.
“Aunt Kavya spanked Aunt Tiya,” Leena said. “Gave her a pow-pow on her butt.”
The older woman waved the spatula and narrowed a gaze on Tiya who quickly stepped back before another spanking ensued.
Mumma placed a hand over her heart, realizing, like Anaya had, that Devesh’s children were a lot smarter than they gave them credit for. They were protecting her, Aunt Kavya, and Anaya from their mother’s wrath. Those two had summed up the situation and made sure that the blame stayed exactly where it was supposed to be. Everyone else who had stayed out of the fray was implicated because of their inaction. Yes, the twins were clever. Too clever by far.
“Devesh, I swear on all you consider Holy,” Reign said, and it was obvious from the darkness in her tone that she was barely holding on to her temper. “That if they harm my children in any way, I am not going to be responsible for my actions.” She looked down at her children. “Kamran and Leena are not allowed to eat at your parent’s house unless one of us is present.”
“Mumma, Aunt Kavya, and Anaya had everything under control,” Devesh defended. “Don’t be so overprotective.”
“Overprotective,” she snapped, hands balling into tight fists. “Then why have the other children finished their meal? And those things are still sitting on my children’s plates?” She pointed toward the counter. “Don’t ever question me about this again.” She glared up at him, arms folded across her bosom. “Overprotective my—”
“Mama.”
Reign’s focus instantly went to Leena who grimaced and shook her head. She paused for a few seconds and then smiled at her child, who seemed to know that cussing was not something her mother was supposed to do.
“They do not eat anywhere unless we are present. Mumma, your aunt, and Anaya shouldn’t have to run interference with the rest of your family,” Reign said to Devesh. “If you have a problem with that, then I can keep them at the condo full time. It’s all the same to me.”
Devesh did not object because she was right. Seems like his mother, aunt, and sister was no match for his uncle, Tiya, and everyone else.
“Mumma, Anaya, and Aunt Kavya. Thank you,” Reign said before snatching the keys from Devesh’s pocket and taking the children toward the door. “I’ll pick them up something from Panera.”
“I am so sorry,” Mumma said, gesturing to the items on the counter. “Please allow me to make them a meal.”
Devesh let out a breath and Anaya was aware that he was so hoping that Reign wasn’t so angry that she couldn’t see an olive branch when it was offered.
“It won’t be too much trouble?” Reign asked, glancing over her shoulder at Mumma.
“No trouble at all.”
Reign stared at Devesh who simply stared back, but his eyes were saying so much. She then put her focus on Mumma as she said, “Thank you.” Then she shifted her gaze to Tiya. “You know, this is the third time with you and my children. They say the third time is the charm, but I’m warning you that the fourth time will bring you harm.” With that being said, she turned to Uncle Mitul and said in a low throaty voice, “Keep your distance from my children. You don’t have any business trying to touch them or direct them. They have people who actually care about them. They will handle that business, not you.”
Uncle Mitul’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond; though it was obvious he did not appreciate being spoken to in a such manner.
Reign ushered the twins to the table, removed the plate and placed it on the counter.
&nb
sp; “Tiya and Uncle Mitul, I don’t know what your problem is,” Devesh said, cornering the counter until they were only a breath apart. “But you keep messing with my children and my wife, and you’re going to find yourself on the wrong end of a problem.”
Tiya’s head whipped to Reign, who tilted her head and narrowed her gaze as if to say, “You’d better listen to your brother.”
Unfortunately, Tiya had always been hard-headed, stubborn, and mean-spirited. No one could understand where that came from, but they’d put up with it all their lives.
Reign would not be inclined to do the same. That in itself was going to be a major problem.
Chapter 21
Devesh dropped down on the parlor sofa, trying to get his bearings before going into the master suite to speak with his wife, who had set foot in the Maharaj place for the first time in two weeks. He closed his eyes for what seemed like a moment. Must’ve been far longer because when he opened them, Reign was standing over him, one eyebrow winged upward, trying to hold in a smile.
Reign had settled into married life, living with a man for the first time in her solitary life. She was handling things well, even though the only fly in the milk was some family members still seemed to be shell-shocked by his choice of wife. They were slowly building trust again after that last episode. He was growing weary of his family’s interactions with Reign and his children.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said. “I just … felt that you were here.”
“Awwww, grasshopper,” he teased in an Asian accent. “Seems like we’ve just taken this relationship to the telepathic level. I must be doing something right.”
“You are so silly.”
Devesh laughed, got to his feet and kissed her on the lips.
Following Reign into the kitchen, he peered into the first pot on the eight-eye stove. “What’s for dinner?
“Your mother taught me how to make chicken makhani, vegetable biryani, dahl makhani, naan, saag, and rasmulai. Your father’s making chicken in the tandoori oven outside.”
“That’s awesome,” he beamed, embracing her. “Thank you, Mumma.”
“You are happy,” Mumma said to him, accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Happier than I have ever seen you. That is all that matters, my son.” She glanced slyly at Reign and said, “If you admit it to yourself, you are happy too.”
Reign gasped.
“Worried, but happy,” she added, patting Reign’s hand gently.
“You can see all of that?” Reign’s expression was so serious that Devesh wondered why his mother’s words or their implications made Reign so sad.
“I am a mother,” Mumma replied with a shy smile. “I see many things people do not realize.”
Papa sauntered into the kitchen carrying a large tray of “red” chicken with steaming hot onions and lemon as garnish—all prepared in a special clay oven. Pranav followed him, holding several bottles of wine that would satisfy the tastes of the family and friends who would arrive in a short while. They placed their items on the wooden gathering table nearest the north end of the dining room.
Papa grinned, surveying the spread of food on the center island and on the gathering table. “This should be enough. Everyone is coming over to discuss buying a boutique hotel.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Devesh noticed Reign’s body tense up. He sent up a small prayer of peace. Tiya, Bhavin, and Uncle Mitul had been especially difficult and aggressive at leading the charge to keep some family members in direct opposition to Devesh, Reign, and any other family members who supported them.
“I’ll take the children home for dinner,” Reign said, quickly abandoning her place at the stove.
“You will do no such thing,” Papa expressed, and his tone was resolute, causing her to freeze midway to the door. “Not while we are having a family meeting.”
Reign’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I understand.”
“It does not matter how you came to be the wife of my son.” Papa crossed the distance between them and placed his hand over Reign’s, halting her efforts. “The fact is that you are his wife and now a member of my family.”
She took a swift glance at Devesh, who nodded and was warmed by the fact that his father and mother were trying to set the tone for the family to follow. Anaya, Pranav, and Aunt Kavya had also made strides in making Reign and their children feel welcome, but sometimes Anaya held a neutral ground if another family member was involved. The past weeks had been interesting with Reign finding ways to keep herself and the children out of sight by working at the school and then remaining at the condo, even for family dinners and other special occasions.
“Thank you,” Reign said to his father, but it sounded more like a question than anything. At least her body relaxed, and she resumed making the meal.
The rest of the women were out shopping for an upcoming celebration of Tiya and Hiran’s anniversary. Devesh was certain that Tiya was buying much more than necessary. As if she didn’t have a million kurtas, lenghas, and saris filling every closet in the house or enough jewelry to open her own store. No one had ever seen her in the same garment twice, and only Devesh had made mention of the fact that she needed professional help for her shopping addiction.
Mumma and Reign were moving in tandem preparing for the family’s arrival, and the sight of them together brought a smile to his face.
“How are things at the school?” Devesh asked Reign, sliding into a highboy at the end of the island.
“I’m actually enjoying it,” she replied moving into the spot that Mumma vacated at the stove. “They’re having me assist with the children who are more advanced, which means I’m working with Leena, Kamran, and a few others who might skip kindergarten or even first grade altogether.”
“I still say I could keep them,” Mumma said, and her tone was sad, but resigned. “You do not have to take them away every day.”
Reign looked to Devesh, who kept his expression bland. This was a debate that started the moment she had moved to California, and then resumed after Reign had felt it was in the best interest of her family not to set foot in the Maharaj place at all. With the success of his music career taking off, Devesh had hoped Reign wouldn’t feel the need to keep up her job search for a paralegal position and that she would somehow become more comfortable and partake of family dinners again, after this first appearance here in a while.
“I know you gave up so much to be here with my son,” Mumma said, gesturing for Reign to add more salt to the makhani sauce. “And it means the world to me to spend time with my grandchildren.”
“You should be enjoying this time in your life, kicking back and relaxing,” Reign argued. “Not running after two rambunctious twins.”
“They are not rambunctious,” Mumma defended, a smile about her pink lips. “Precocious, maybe, but they are too well-mannered to be rambunctious.” She turned those dark brown eyes on Reign who smiled at her acute observations of Leena and Kamran who adored their grandparents. “Since you recognize how advanced they are, maybe you can help me get this one”—she jerked a thumb toward Devesh—“to understand why I push them to learn so much, even at a tender age.”
“You’ve taught them board and card games that are way beyond a normal four-year-old’s level,” Devesh chimed in, disheartened that Reign seemed to bristle anytime he brought up this issue about the children.
“They just think it’s fun,” she explained, pausing in her efforts to stir the sauce. “But it teaches them how to think; how to partner up. I was seven when my brother Ricky taught me to play Spades and Bid Whist. People were amazed that I could understand the game as well as I did. That I could count cards, and keep track of things. I learned to watch people. You can tell a lot about a person strictly by the way they play cards. Whether they’re patient, selfish, competitive, sore loser, slow to process things, inattentive, or risk-taker.”
Devesh left his place at the island, moved to the stove and stroked Reign’s arm. I’m not saying stop altoget
her. Just …” He held his hands in the air, slowly bringing them closer to decrease the space between them. “Cut back a little. You could start with their school curriculum.”
“What’s wrong with it? They’re on the same learning track Jay was on.” Her hand went to her hip. “I started him in a Christian school headed by a pastor and his wife. They taught on an up-slide, which meant that pre-schoolers, kindergartners, first and second graders were taught together. Third, fourth, and fifth graders were taught together, and so on. The youngest in each group learned at a higher level, and the oldest learned patience and how to teach the ones who were behind them. Jay, who was in preschool, had been placed up with the third graders. Nothing’s wrong with that.”
“Honey, you also told me that by the time Jay hit first grade he was too far ahead of his peers in that public school you were forced to put him in.”
Reign had lost her job and had no choice but to transfer him into a neighborhood school. At that time, Chicago public schools wouldn’t let gifted children skip grades—or make a double—like they had when she was growing up. Instead, they stressed the importance of keeping each child in his or her own social group. Something that Devesh said he totally agreed with. The only concession the school administration made to keep Jay mentally challenged was to let the first grader sit in on third and fourth-grade classes part of the day. His first-grade teacher became so frustrated by the additional work involved, that she punched him and knocked him down into the seat when his escorts arrived to take him to his next class. The teacher left the school that day long before Reign arrived. Probably because she knew that Reign was going to give her the kind of beat-down that would make a long-lasting statement. The woman never returned to teach at the school again.
“All I’m saying is that pushing children so hard puts everyone under added pressure,” Devesh said softly and Anaya nodded. “The twins included. I’m just trying to get you—and the children—to understand the need for balance.”
“I see where you’re going with this,” Reign said, with a wry twist of her lips. “You’re blaming me for what that teacher did to Jay.”
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