“Excuse me?”
“Well, you were friends and then you weren’t, but she gave you another chance. Why not him? What, you’re the only one worthy?”
It was an unwelcome aper?u. “Shut up.”
“Oi! Did you drag me here just to abuse me? I have better things to do, you know.”
“Your ugly-ass dresses can wait. We’re on a rescue mission here.”
Farah growled, “What’s your problem?”
Ramesh, herself. “You! You are my problem. You’re a loyal-less bitch and you picked on Geeta, trapping and blackmailing her.”
“I was just trying to protect myself. I made some bad choices, but I backed off, didn’t I?”
“And now she’s in deep fucking trouble and you’re too self-absorbed to help.”
“I’m self-absorbed? Ha! You’re mental, you know that? You ostracize Geeta for years, then the minute it looks like she might be moving on—making a new friend, reuniting with Ramesh—you get all crazy possessive.”
“Listen, I’ve known that woman longer than I’ve known myself. I’m allowed,” Saloni said, stabbing her own chest. With the same finger, she jabbed Farah. “And you’re not her friend. You’re not a bonobo.”
Farah swatted Saloni’s hand away. “Why is everyone so obsessed with monkeys lately?” She exhaled vehemently, her nostrils bullish as she strove for calm. “Kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi…”
Saloni rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut—”
“If you tell me to shut up one more time, I’ll sew your lips shut. Maybe then you’d lose some weight.”
“You—”
Like children, they immediately quieted when Geeta opened the door, jewelry box in hand. “Get in here before you two draw blood.”
They stood in the middle of the room, between Geeta’s bed and Ramesh’s charpoy. Saloni wanted to ask if Geeta had slept with him. But for Farah’s presence, Geeta likely would’ve answered. Why had she thought bringing Farah was a good idea?
“I know you don’t understand why,” Geeta said, sitting on her cot as she opened the box. “But it’s my choice. We’re not back together or anything, I’m just letting him make amends. I’d’ve thought you’d be all for second chances.” Saloni ignored Farah’s smug smirk. “And, if I change my mind, I can always go to the panchayat.”
“Seriously?” Saloni stopped when she saw Geeta’s bemused expression. “What?”
“There was more—I thought—where…”
“What? What is it?”
“I had about nineteen thousand rupees in here. Now there’s less than seven.”
“Oh, that son of a fat bitch.” Saloni punched the air in ire. Yet, if this was what it took to awaken Geeta, then she was glad Ramesh was too stupid to cover his tracks.
“He wouldn’t, though,” Geeta said. “Maybe I miscounted?”
To Saloni’s surprise, Farah spoke up. “Okay, I was fine with you being on a dumb journey to rekindle some two-cent romance. But this? This is too much. You threatened to kill me for asking for money—okay sure, ‘blackmailing,’ if you wanna get all technical—but still just asking. This fucker stole from you. He’s gotta go.”
“How did he know?”
“Please,” Saloni spat, pacing the length of the room. She kicked The Chut’s charpoy leg. Her big toe stung. “A jewelry box is your big hiding spot? Any moron could find that. Any moron did. Ramesh has been a greedy prick from day one. And I should’ve told you. I promised your parents, but I should’ve broken that promise. They wouldn’t have wanted this life for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Saloni rolled her shoulders back. “If we’re gonna do this, I need a drink. Where’s that bottle Karem brought over?”
“Cupboard,” Geeta said, gesturing vaguely. “Maybe he took it for his new cane?”
“Yes, and maybe I’ll get thin by Diwali.” Saloni pointed at Farah. “You in?”
Farah refused primly, with ample judgment. “I don’t drink. Plus, we have to meet Varunbhai soon, na?”
“It’s not tharra, it’s actual rum.”
“Ooh.” Farah perked up. “Okay then.”
Saloni wasted no time with glasses. She twisted off the cap and sipped before choking. “This,” she announced with distaste, “is water.”
“What?” Geeta held out her hand. She gave a delicate sniff. “Shit.”
Farah scoffed. “Oldest trick in the book. Plain lazy, actually.”
Geeta stuttered, her hands suspended in the air near her head. “Hold on, this doesn’t make any sense. I’ve seen him; he’s sober. When he found the bottle, he said—”
“Wake up, Geeta!” Farah snapped, smacking the back of one hand against her other palm in rapid succession. “He’s a drunk and a thief. Just like Samir. The only question here is what you’re gonna do about it.”
Saloni surveyed Farah with begrudging respect; perhaps bringing her along hadn’t been a misstep after all.
“I’ll confront him about the money. We don’t know the whole story yet.”
“Whole story?” Saloni asked. “Okay. Fine.”
Geeta sat very still, frozen and pallid under her brown skin, as Saloni spoke of the dowry. At one point, Farah, noticing Geeta’s gooseflesh, opened the door and whistled. No further invitation was necessary. Like an actor in a prompt corner waiting for his cue, Bandit burst through the doorway, heading straight for Geeta’s lap. She finally moved then, a small shift to hold him. She tolerated his eager tongue and damp nose, but her lack of enthusiasm was contagious and he soon settled on her lap, paws kneading her orange sari in comfort. Saloni continued speaking, unsure whether any of her words were penetrating. She looked at Farah, whose shoulders rose and fell, her face a matching question mark.
“A refrigerator?” Geeta repeated, her voice so clear and cogent, it startled the other two women.
“Huh?”
“They demanded a refrigerator, you said.”
“Yes,” Saloni said cautiously, puzzled. “Among other things.”
“And my parents gave it?”
“Yes.”
“Son of a fat bitch.”
Saloni’s arms rose in victorious relief. “There she is!”
Geeta’s words rushed out, anger driving them louder and higher. “He said, he said, so many times, that my father left us—me—with all these debts. That he’d pretended to be good with money, that he’d tricked Ramesh’s family into marrying me. He bad-mouthed my father to everyone in the village. He told me I was ‘lucky’ to find someone who didn’t demand a dowry. I actually felt gratitude toward him, do you believe that? Goddamn him! I’m such an idiot!”
Farah patted Geeta’s back, the comfort genuine but still awkward between bodies unaccustomed to proximity. “Breathe. Remember?”
Geeta nodded. She rocked with Bandit in her lap. “Kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi.” But it brought no relief. She hiccuped.