“I— I, ah . . .”
“Of course she does!” Veera burst out. “This is the start of her love story!”
The cheering started all over again, and Dadi wrapped Kareena in a hug that squeezed her heart.
Falguni Aunty hustled over to her tote bag and pulled out a large three-inch-wide binder brimming with tabs and hole-punched sheets. “Beta, I’ve already started putting together information for your wedding. Now that we know the groom’s name, we can start planning better.”
“What in the world? I’m dating Prem, not engaged to him!” Not yet.
Sonali Aunty squeezed her shoulder. “You know, I have a standing appointment with the pandit at the Bridgewater temple to review your star charts. Do you think you can have Prem’s family send over his janampatri? That way when you are engaged, we can speed up the process a bit by making sure your charts align.”
“Oh, the roka!” Mona Aunty said. “I have to order your necklace. Unless you want to wear Dadi’s?”
“I’m proud of you,” Dadi said. “Your mother would be so proud of you, too.”
Kareena’s eyes immediately began to burn, and she could feel the tears climbing her throat. No, her mother wouldn’t be proud of her. She wanted to shout it, to tell everyone to stop celebrating. There was nothing to celebrate.
“Okay, move out of the way. My turn,” Bindu called out as she squeezed between the aunties and enveloped Kareena in a hug.
Kareena let go, ready to step back, but Bindu’s arms tightened around her. “Do you need an escape?” she whispered.
God, how long had it been since they’d done that for each other?
Kareena nodded before letting Bindu go.
Bindu burst out, “Bobbi, I want to change the menu. No Indian food. Just Italian food. And we’re limiting the wedding guest list to a hundred people.”
“Leh,” Dadi said. “This one is talking nonsense.”
“Yeah, I’ll call the venue and make those changes now,” Bobbi said. “Aunties, it’s totally doable and even makes sense in this situation.”
This time the aunties went absolutely ballistic. With their backs turned, and their attention on Bindu, Kareena, Bobbi, and Veera managed to sneak their stuff out of the kitchen and to the car at the end of the block.
When they were seated and strapped in, Kareena took her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes. “Bobbi, you shouldn’t have said anything.”
Bobbi squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, friend. Why don’t we get you to Prem? Maybe being with him will remind you that you don’t have to say the words to love someone.”
Interstitial
Indians Abroad News
For those of you who have watched The Dr. Dil Show on the Jersey City South Asians News Network since its inception, you may find that the content as of late has taken an interesting
turn. Our very own Dr. Dil, Prem Verma, has been bringing more and more relationship advice experts onto the show. Part of
his reasoning has been to showcase the vast array of concerns that affect the South Asian community that he hopes to address
in the Jersey City health community center he’s developing. But some viewers have begun to speculate if the content has been
influenced by a change in his personal relationship status.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Prem
Prem put away his notes for the next Dr. Dil episode and ordered takeout. One day he’d make dinner for Kareena, but he was too amped up to focus on anything else but her arrival. There were candles and her favorite playlist as background music.
He was going to ask her today for permanence. For something more than what they had now. He believed in loyalty and commitment and hard work. He’d take care of her, and hopefully that would convince her that they could have a lifetime together.
Before he rearranged the cheese board and the wineglasses for a third time, the front door rang. Prem was surprised to find Kareena on the other side with her overnight bag and purse.
“I was going to have the front desk call you to let me up, but they said I was on a list.”
Prem nodded. “You’re preapproved. Is that okay?”
Her shoulders lifted and dropped with an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose so,” she said.
“Good,” he said, and leaned in for a quick peck before taking her bag and leading the way inside his apartment.
He watched her kick off her shoes and drop her purse on the kitchen island.
“Do you want some wine?” he asked. “I figured we can talk, and—”