To Have and to Heist(19)

“I love warm roti.” Chloe reached for the freshly fried flatbread, and I slapped her hand away. Although she’d spent as much time at my house as she had at home when we were kids, she still didn’t recognize a trap when she saw one.

“We can’t stay.” I sensed an impending storm and even one roti would lead to an invitation to sit down for a meal. “I’m just here to change because I spent the night at Chloe’s, then we’re heading out for coffee.”

“Don’t forget we’re having a special dinner tomorrow night,” Mom said, tucking loose strands from her graying hair behind her ear. “Be home by six p.m.” She gave me the smile she used on her students when she was giving them a pop quiz. She had her usual English professor look going, with thick purple glasses, a beige sweater pulled over a white shirt, a colorful scarf, and an artsy necklace. Work. Casual. Party. Business. My mother dressed the same for every occasion.

“Oh, and by the way . . .”

The hair on the back of my neck prickled. My muscles tensed, ready to run.

“Nani got a call from Annika Auntie.” Mom and Nani shared a look that screamed trouble. “Annika said she heard from Meera Auntie who heard from Satya Auntie who heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that you were at the police station last night.” Mom raised an eyebrow. Nani looked over her shoulder. Dad lowered his newspaper. Chloe shoved a warm piece of roti into her mouth.

“That’s very interesting.” But not surprising. Nani was the center of gossip in our local South Asian community. Chicago. Naperville. Burr Ridge. Lombard. Downers Grove. Evanston. Oak Park. She knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who would tell her what was going on no matter the time of day or night.

“They said you were talking to Riswan Dev,” Mom continued when my immediate response was not forthcoming.

Chloe handed me a piece of roti. I stuffed my mouth so conversation would be impossible. Anything to avoid having to answer the question I knew was coming.

“Do I hear wedding bells?”

Gah!

“He’s my cousin,” I said between chews. “Did you forget that part?”

“He’s a distant cousin.” Nani threw a roti into the pan, and it sizzled in the oil, sending up a scent so delicious, it made my stomach rumble. “At your age, you can’t be picky.”

Dad lowered his newspaper and peered over the top. “Is he the lawyer?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Lawyer is okay. I approve. Just let me know the date. Don’t get married during Fashion Week.”

“Most parents would be concerned if their daughter had been spotted outside Chicago’s 18th District police station in the middle of the night,” I said, bristling. “They’d wonder if I’d been hurt, attacked, held up, even assaulted. Maybe I committed a crime. Did you think about that? I could be a criminal.”

Mom and Dad shared a laugh. Even Nani joined in.

“Not you,” Mom said. “You’re not the type.”

“What type is that?”

“You’ve always been a good girl, Simi. Yes, you’re impulsive, easily distracted, and overanxious, but you’re a team player—a follower, not a leader. You encourage others, but you never reach for the stars. It’s not a bad thing. Lots of people walk that middle road, but you won’t find any criminals on it. That kind of person is willing to take risks and cross lines you would never cross.”

“I could be a criminal,” I muttered. “I could do bad things. I’ve watched so many crime shows with Rose, I could commit the perfect murder.”

“You’d be a great criminal,” Chloe whispered. “You almost committed a crime last night. You definitely have it in you.”

“Thanks, babe. I can always count on you.”

“If she committed a murder, we could hire Riswan to defend her,” Nani mused. “Then they’d get to spend some time together.”

My parents nodded as if they were seriously considering asking me to kill someone to find a husband.

“But if he loses the case, then all that time is wasted,” Dad said. “They can’t give us grandchildren if she’s in prison.”

“They can have conjugal visits.” Nani flipped her roti again. “After my husband died, I started seeing an ex-con, and when he was sent back to the joint—”

“I can’t believe we are seriously having this conversation,” I said. “What if I was arrested last night for stealing a $25 million necklace from a museum? What if the police handcuffed me and dragged me downtown? What if I had to call Riswan to get me out, and that’s why we were outside the police station?”

“If you’re not interested in the boy, just say so,” my mother huffed. “You don’t need to make things up.”

“I’m not interested.” I reached for a roti, heedless of Nani’s frown. I’d show them bad. I’d take a roti meant for tomorrow’s dinner and eat it today. “Riswan is a great guy and good at what he does but he’s a bit too nice for me.”

“She likes her men with a bit of rough,” Nani said, pulling the plate out of reach. “Add that to her online marriage résumé and we’ll have her married in no time.”

“We’re leaving.” I grabbed Chloe and dragged her down the hall.