The garden wrapped around to the back of the house, and from an upstairs window, I saw my mother peeking out and watching us. I kept a respectable distance from Biren. A few minutes later I saw the curtain in the living room pull back. Indira Mami. Clearly if I so much as talked to a member of the opposite sex, it would be considered a family activity.
Apologetically, I said, “It seems like everyone in the house has busied themselves with studying us.”
Biren shrugged and resisted looking over his shoulder to see what I was talking about. I respected that.
“Not a lot of guy-girl friendships in India,” he said.
“My mom can’t help herself. You’re the first biodata-appropriate person she’s ever seen me talk to!” I said to him while motioning for the gawkers inside the house to leave us alone.
Biren laughed. “I’m sure our parents dreamed of arranging our marriage when we were little kids. They probably think this is exactly where our Janmakshars are meant to intersect. Actually, I bet they think we’re both quite late on the Janmakshar plan!”
I nodded, wondering how far I’d deviated from my birth horoscope. “How have you dodged the bullet?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “Hasn’t been a priority.”
“Your parents aren’t breathing down your neck to introduce you to a nice girl?”
“They’ve tried, but I ignore it. There are a couple perks to having spent several years in the West, right? We can stand up to our parents, whether they like it or not!”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I said with a relieved smile.
Playing the part of the dutiful Indian daughter for the past couple weeks had been exhausting and unnatural for me. I missed Carrie and our ability to speak our minds without worrying about offending the other person. Maybe Biren could help fill that void.
“So, now that you’re staying, we should spend some more time together. Maybe we can spend Christmas Eve or Christmas together in a few days. The local Indians don’t have much cause to celebrate it, but I’ve always enjoyed it.”
Christmas was only three days away, and I had completely lost track of it. It was hard not to think about Alex when I heard the word Christmas, and it might be nice to share those Western holidays with Biren and take a small break from everything going on with the family.
“I’d love that, assuming everything is okay—or at least not worse than things are now—with Neel and Dipti.”
“Of course.”
I smiled at him and realized how much better India would be with someone to talk to outside my family.
19
I had barely opened the front door to the house after Biren left before Indira Mami charged at me.
“So, Biren is a nice boy.” Her tone was anything but subtle. “Good family.”
I heard the clapping of Mom’s champals against the marble stairs. She’d been moving so quickly she was out of breath by the time she reached the main floor. She didn’t say anything, but it was clear she wanted to hear every word Indira Mami and I exchanged about this subject.
“Yeah, he’s nice.” I was careful. Giving them even an inkling that I had noticed he was attractive would probably be enough for them to confirm our marriage for the very next auspicious date.
Indira Mami began to reason through the scenario out loud. “Right age. Good height-body. Education. Job. Proper family.”
In her mind, all the appropriate biodata boxes had already been ticked and the only thing left was to approach his parents to strike an arrangement.
I held up my hands to stop her. “Make sure you get at least four goats in exchange for me,” I said lightly.
Indira Mami said seriously, “Oh, no, we don’t have to worry about your dowry these days. Times are more modern.”
Mom stifled a laugh.
I threw up my hands in defeat. “I’m kidding!”
“You know, when you were little kids, you and Biren used to play together all the time. We even dressed him up in a chaniya choli just like yours one day. It was so cute, both of you in matching clothes like that. I should find that photo so you can show him.”
“I doubt he wants to see that,” I said, remembering a similar photograph of Neel dressed in a chaniya choli when we were little. Before she could keep going, I excused myself to take the sev upstairs so we could finish packing Dad’s suitcase.
While my mother and Neel were busy weighing my father’s suitcases before tying them with yellow rope to take them to the airport, my father stopped by my bedroom. It was now two in the morning, and the bags underneath his eyes hung heavy.