by Ayesha Patel
My parents and I took our plastic plates and utensils and ate at a nearby table. The volunteers had given us heaping amounts of rice, curried vegetables, dhal, puri, and sweets, enough for one serving to be enough. No one wanted to appear greedy by getting seconds.
“Do you remember the mandirs in India?” Mummie asked.
“Yes,” I replied. We’d traveled to India after my high school graduation and again in the summer between UT and med school.
Mummie looked past the other beautifully dressed people and reminisced. “This food is good, but the food in India…spectacular. The sweets alone…”
My mouth watered. No matter the recipes and imported ingredients here in the U.S., the food in India was better, richer, deeper. The way the sugary, buttery sweets tasted with a mouthful of a spicy meal was heaven on Earth.
After the meal, Papa parted from us girls to meet some of his business associates and friends. The men and boys sat on one side of the grand praying room. As always, I remained close to Mummie unless I saw friends, but today, my friends weren’t here.
“Why did I wear a sari?” I murmured. The sari was restrictive when trying to sit crossed-legged on a hard, marble floor. I should have gone with a salwar kameez like most sensible girls.
“Because you are of a marrying age. Women wear saris.”
“Right. My reason for being here isn’t to worship and eat but to catch the eye of some man.”
Mummie cocked her chin to the side, pointing out some guy. “He looks nice, and no ring…”
“What about Manuk?”
“Aha! Manuk has your attention, then. I very much like him. I see no reason why you wouldn’t. Am I wrong?”
I kept my eyes low as the priests sang mantras, hoping Mummie would end the conversation now that the ceremony began. She did.
Finally, the hard part of just sitting there passed. Walking around was déjà vu. As a teenager, I had relished the attention of boys, and there were many cuties at mandir. As a college student, I’d noticed the hotter ones, though most of them hadn’t noticed me. In med school, when I had transformed from liberated and protected child to possible future wife, I’d clung to Mummie’s arm. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it showed guys I was still immature, or a mama’s girl, or hopefully, told them not to give me the googly eye or get near because mama bird would attack.
Now, I turned up my chin, looked away with a subtle roll of the eyes, or ignored interested men altogether. I didn’t want any of them. None tickled my fancy. Besides, the dentist from Dallas, cloaked in his own splendid success, promised a fulfilling future, and he awaited my answer. Despite everything, flashes of last night kept reappearing. My thoughts always returned to my charming Irish hero. And that wasn’t a good thing.
Peacocks weren’t shy here. They cawed in the near distance. The female ones, as intended by nature, were small and brown and reclusive. The males, ridiculously endowed with feathers so elaborate and heavy it made me sad thinking about the burdensome weight, walked around like they owned the fields and gardens. Actually, they did. Humans weren’t allowed to touch or harass them. But still, they were so majestic, and today, that uplifted my spirits.
I spotted a peacock feather on the lawn and dashed toward it.
“Priya!” Mummie called after me.
Mummie scolded me for running like a child. I should be more ladylike, but I had to be an adult in front of patients who depended on me to find an answer and a cure to their ailments. I was an adult handling single life living on my own. I was even being adult by tamping down feelings for Ty.
The grass was a little moist from the sprinklers, but the feather was dry. I held it up to the afternoon light. It shimmered blue, green, purple, and gold, one of nature’s most beautiful creations.
Mummie scowled from the edge of the garden as I sauntered back to her. “You aren’t supposed to be on the grass, much less running like a child.”
I handed Mummie the feather. She took it after a moment of restraint and smiled.
She wandered off toward a small group of aunties when I spotted Papa’s sisters, the fois, on the other side of the garden. I walked in their direction to greet them, as was the courteous thing to do, but I stopped short when I overheard their conversation.
“Have you heard Sita found a man for Priya?” one foi said to the other two.
“Hopefully a reputable man. No need to bring more shame to her own name.”
“At least Priya turned out okay, huh? Although, I’m sure there’s some fault in her, just by being Sita’s daughter.”
“Well, who’s to say Priya will finish residency and actually end up a doctor? If she’s anything like Sita, she’ll fail miserably and be another stain on the Patel name.”
I clenched my fists at my sides. I should have snapped at them and told them that Manuk was a great guy from a respected family who had his own practice and I could retire my parents on that alone. But I refrained.
“Sita’s nagging will drag in anyone, but it’ll push them out running and screaming. She’s so bossy.”
Like they had a right to talk.
“And manipulative.”
Nowhere near like them.
“Priya’s so perfect, huh? Not like Sita. How could that uneducated, emotional thing have married into our family? Just wait. Priya will misstep, and then we can put Sita back in her place.”
I fumed. This was why I worked so hard to make my parents proud, so no one could treat them badly because of my mistakes. I would not make a mistake so the fois could use me to tear down Mummie even more.
An auntie I didn’t recognize approached them. She said, “Nice to see you all. I saw Sita a moment ago. We should go to dinner together. What do you think?”
They gave one another smug looks before one foi started, “Oh, dear, you don’t know about Sita, do you?”
The auntie shook her head as if she braced for the worst of news. “Did something bad happen?”
“We don’t socialize much with her for good reason.”
The auntie creased her brow.
“You see, she likes to twist words. Whatever we say, she tells people we said something horrible.”
The auntie gasped. “She seems so nice.”
“That’s her evil trick. She sucks you in with kindness but turn your back, and she’s telling the world lies. She thinks she’s so superior because her daughter is a doctor, with her chin in the air, and expects everyone to cater to her.”
The auntie rolled her eyes, but when her gaze landed on me, she stiffened. “Isn’t that her daughter?”
One of the fois cleared her throat, and all three looked at me. They stared wide-eyed, caught red-handed, or fire-tongued in this case, but tried to play it off.
“Oh, Priya! How are you, beti?”
I twitched at her use of the endearment. She had no right to refer to me as her daughter.
“I thought I saw you earlier. Where are your parents?”
My stare continued, hopefully impassive and deadly, as my fists relaxed. The inner voice of reason sounded. If you get mad and show disrespect, they’ll use it as fuel.
I didn’t want them to have a reason to go around telling everyone that I was a horrible girl with a sharp tongue and no respect. No woman in her right mind would allow her son to marry me. Not that I cared if they talked about me, but the gossip would trickle down and eventually fall back on Mummie. That Mummie was a bad mother, a bad person.
To hell with these gossip whores. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and even if I had, who were they to tell the world, to judge me? Or push everyone else into reproaching Mummie? This was how things worked within Indian communities. And Ty was right, it was BS.
I couldn’t help myself. “Don’t listen to them, auntie. They say those things because they’re the ones doing it.”
The fois gasped and began to lecture me. I held up a hand and spoke to the auntie. “I’m not a rude child or a vindictive one, but either I keep my mouth shut and you’ll think they’r
e telling the truth, or I speak up and you’ll think I’m a brash girl.”
I turned toward them. “How could you spread lies like this? Don’t you see that it only makes you look bad?”
One tried to save face. “I’m sorry you heard that, but the truth is hard. Your mother—”
“My mother is a saint compared to you,” I snapped. “Don’t let her name come off your tongue again.”
My glower never wavered, even when their shaken smiles quivered with unease. I raised a knowing brow, a sort of warning, and left.
“See, her daughter is the spitting image of Sita,” they said as I walked away.
I growled but tucked away the hatred when I approached Mummie. I maintained a super chipper mood and stayed close to her to show our unity. The fois didn’t come around. People talked about tiger moms, well, I was the tiger cub, the one who grew into a fierce and loyal predator to watch my mother’s back.
…
I was grateful to have generous parents, and I was even more grateful to get away from everything that had transpired last night. Today kept my thoughts clear and panic attacks at bay, even seeing my fois. Anger was better than helplessness.
At the apartment, I took a cup of cha to Mummie in the living room while Papa rested in my bed. The amount of caffeine in cha didn’t deter her from partaking before bedtime. This time, instead of masala, I added ginger to soothe Mummie and add a boost to her immune system.
She sat on the couch and I on the floor, my back against the couch.
“I saw the fois at mandir,” I said.
“Yes, they came to say hi when you went to the bathroom.” Those cunning witches! And after I had warned them to stay away.
“Can I ask you something, and will you tell me without trying to protect me?” I asked.
“What is it?”
“Are they mean to you?”
Mummie stiffened.
“Mummie, you can tell me. You’re not talking to a child.”
“Papa didn’t want you to know.”
“They don’t like you. It’s obvious.”
“It’s in the past.”
“They still do things, say things.”
“Did they say something to you?”
“Just tell me. Why defend them?”
“Why share someone else’s hate?”
“Mummie,” I groaned.
“Fine, but don’t let our history encourage your judgment. Family is everything.”
“Not when the family is mean and vindictive.”
“Do not become like them.”
“I already dislike them.”
“That’s not good.”
“You’re stalling.”
Mummie sighed. “Papa and I were arranged. He saw me one day and liked me. He asked his parents to arrange our marriage.”
I knew this.
“I wasn’t scared, even though I didn’t see him until the wedding day. My parents promised he was good. Parents usually know what’s best for their children. Their life experience and knowledge enables them to see the entire picture. Remember his Mummie, Ba?”
Ba had died a few years back and had been the meanest old grandmother to ever walk the Earth. She had treated Mummie like crap and had dumped on Papa all the time, though he had shown nothing but kindness to her. She had played a major role in turning her daughters, the fois, against Papa, the reason the ridiculous sibling feud existed.
Mummie continued, “Ba hated me from the beginning. So your fois grew up spoiled. Their children were the most loved in her family. Papa suffered, huh? I cooked and cleaned for everyone while Papa worked. I ate last and only the leftovers. Ba gave me only two bottles of milk a day to feed you, and she made us sleep in the tobacco room when Papa left for business. You were so sick as a baby.”
I clenched my jaw.
“They made sure I wore rags and hid me when they had company. I was so happy when they went to America. When we came, it was still bad but not as bad because we lived on our own. Now, they speak horrible lies to others at mandir. Some people have stopped being my friends. I don’t know if it’s because they believe them or because they’re afraid of them. Maybe they just want to stay away from the drama. I don’t know anymore.”
“Are you happy now?”
Mummie braided my hair. “As long as I have you and Papa, that’s all I need.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Mummie. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
She laughed softly. “I’ve been hurt so much in the past, I’m immune now. You make me so proud, the woman you’ve become. The only people who can hurt me are you and Papa, and that will never happen.”
I rested my head against Mummie’s knees. “True. Not in a million years.”
“You can do no wrong. Manuk is lucky to have you, though I don’t want you to leave us.”
“Marriage isn’t leaving. Anyway, I can just move back to Austin. Maybe I’ll find a man who’ll live in Austin.”
“Manuk is perfect for you. Dallas isn’t too far. Maybe one day he’ll sell his practice or start a new one in Austin, huh?”
I hummed, though to myself, I groaned. Mummie was not going to let this Manuk business go.
Chapter Nineteen
Tyler
I knocked on Pree’s door during my nightly checkup on her. She said I didn’t have to, but I knew she wanted me to. She was still a little shaken, and her easy smile and ruffled look screamed appreciative more than annoyed.
I hugged her. And she let me. A real hug, as in all frontal contact. When she kept her cheek against my chest, I ran my fingers through her hair. “Does your head still hurt?”
“No. The pain went away after a few days.”
“Did you go to the doctor?” I kissed the top of her head.
She stepped back. “Did you?”
“I did see a doctor. You.”
“I’m doing all right.”
“You should come meet my parents,” I said. I didn’t want to leave her for an entire weekend, more protective of her now than ever.
“Why?” she asked.
“They invited you over.”
“They know about me?”
“Everyone knows about you.” I grinned.
“And what exactly do they know?”
“That I have this amazing neighbor who they’ll love. My friends conceded it’s true. My family will, too.”
“Not sure it’s a good idea to get all nice and cozy with your family.”
“It’s not like we’re getting engaged after you meet them. They know all my friends. Except you. C’mon, Pree.”
“Okay. When?”
“Right now.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’m driving over. Get ready.”
“Did it occur to you that I might have plans or be dead tired?”
“Do you have plans, and are you dead tired?”
“Well, no.”
“Then what’s the holdup?” I turned her around and smacked her firm butt, encouraging her to run inside. “Forty minutes.”
She scoffed but didn’t argue. In fact, she was at my door in thirty-five minutes.
My parents lived two hours away. We passed the halfway mark when I mentioned, “By the way, we’re spending the night.”
“Ty! Did it occur to you that I might have plans or work tomorrow?”
“Do you?”
“Well, not work, but Sunday is my errand and laundry day.”
“You’ll have time when we get back.”
She sighed. “You’re insufferable!”
I laughed. “You’re barely tolerable.”
“You’re so lucky you’re not ruining any plans.”
“Or what? Will you beat me up with those little dainty fists?” I held her hand. The innocent contact sent shockwaves through me. “You need to get out once in a while. All you do is work.”
“Residency is all work. I don’t know if you know this, but it’s required to be a good doctor.”
“You’ll
burn out before you’re done. No one wants a burned-out doctor taking care of them.”
“I didn’t bring pajamas, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, a towel, nothing.”
“That’s easy to take care of. My parents’ guest bathroom has an endless supply of individually packaged travel toiletries. Their house is like a hotel.”
“I guess I can sleep in these clothes, though this blouse wrinkles.”
Not meaning to, I glanced down the unbuttoned portion of her top. The collar fanned out and exposed some tantalizing cleavage in a beautiful caramel color. “Or you can sleep naked.”
Pree sucked in a breath and looked out the window. Maybe she was thinking the same things I was, mainly naked flesh and my mouth, hot and eager, all over her.
The quaint house near the woods welcomed me with a white picket fence and green shutters. The garden and mature trees added a homeyness the city and suburbs didn’t have. It wasn’t the house I grew up in as a kid, but it was where I’d spent my teenage and college years.
Mama opened the door before we made it to the porch.
“Tyler!” She hugged me.
“Hey, Mama.” I kissed her cheek and stepped aside. “Mom, this is Priya.”
Mama beamed. “Well, aren’t you gorgeous!” She hugged Pree, who sort of froze up for a second. “I’ve heard so much about you. Come in, dear.”
Pree shot me a look. I puckered my lips. Of course I’d told my parents all about the brainy, amusing girl down the hall.
Pree took her shoes off in the foyer.
“You can keep them on,” Mama assured.
“Out of habit.”
“Or you can take them off. Your choice. Whatever makes you feel at home.”
Good, because she’d already slipped them off. I knew for a fact Pree hated wearing shoes.
“I understand it’s an eastern culture thing. Do you mind explaining what that’s about?”
We followed Mama down a short hallway and into a living room as Pree replied, “It signifies respect. Also, shoes are dirty and track in all sorts of bacteria and fecal matter from outside, so it keeps the floors cleaner. Many people eat and sleep on the floor, or have kids who play and crawl on the floor, so it makes sense.”