“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.
“Don’t forget about dinner tomorrow,” my mother called out. “We’re having a special guest.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
?At first, I wasn’t alarmed when I saw the cars parked outside the house on Sunday night. My parents are very social and love hosting family dinners. It was only when I walked into a house filled with silence that the warning bells began to ring. We Chopras are a loud bunch. Even two of us make a lot of noise.
My dad joined me in the hallway, where I was adding my shoes to the pile by the door.
“What’s going on?” I knew exactly what was going on but I wanted him to say it.
“You mother has invited a few people over for dinner.”
“Do they happen to have an unmarried son who can’t find his own wife?”
“Your mother loves you,” he said. “She just wants you to be happy.”
“She wants grandchildren, and she thinks of me as a broodmare.” I couldn’t hide my bitter tone. “The other day she whipped out the tape measure and wrapped it around my hips.”
“Beta!” Annika Auntie waved from the door to the living room. “It’s so nice to see you.”
“She invited the aunties, too?” I groaned. “Can I pretend I have a work emergency at the candy store and have to run to refill the Swedish Fish bin?”
“Too late,” he said. “Here she comes.”
Annika Auntie was short and round, her smiling face surrounded in a mass of black curls. “The Kapoor family is already here.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Their son Anil is such a nice boy. He likes fried food, model planes, video games, and he makes jewelry. Good teeth. Nice smile. And he has all his hair.”
“That’s a low bar, Auntie. But it reminds me that I need to wash my hair. Please give them my apologies for missing what I’m sure will be a scintillating evening.”
No chance. Annika Auntie grabbed my arm and dragged me to the living room.
“Here she is.” Satya Auntie clapped her hands. She was a tall, thin version of her sister Annika but with the same determination to see every last single relative wed. “All ready for tomorrow when she’ll be working with her dad in the family business like the dutiful daughter she is.”
I should have known they wouldn’t let me escape. Annika and Satya were worse than a WWE tag team. They dominated every family get-together, bouncing off one another to herd young singles into the center of the room. Many of Chicago’s therapists had this Legion of Doom to thank for their busy client lists.
My dad introduced me first to Anil’s parents, then two of his aunts, three of his uncles, his sister, and his cousins who were visiting from Delhi. Finally, I got to meet my mother’s latest find.
Anil was twenty-five but looked nineteen, this being a result of the twice-daily moisturizer he applied to his skin, according to his mother. I briefly considered making a Silence of the Lambs joke but decided against it when she gifted me a jar of his miracle cream. He was taller than me by a few inches and lean, but with a long face and narrow chin. His thick black hair stood straight up like he’d recently been electrocuted, and his bushy eyebrows were raised in a permanent state of surprise. No one seemed concerned about our four-year age difference, but I felt like I’d be robbing the cradle if I married a man who wore Mickey Mouse shoes.
I sat across from him while his family extolled his virtues. Not only was he a mechanical engineer, he also worked for a 3D printing company, played the French horn, and was a mathematical genius with a photographic memory. He was very close to his family—so close, he still lived at home to save money to pay off his student loans. There was more than enough room in his basement suite for two—or three, or even four if they were baby-size. Nudge. Nudge. Wink. Wink.
“Simi is a business graduate,” my mom said with none of the despair and disappointment she’d shown when I first told her about my decision to study commerce. “She is getting real-life experience in retail to understand the business world from the ground up while she is saving to do her MBA.”
I wasn’t sure where all this MBA nonsense had come from. My school days were over. I was all about earning money to get out of debt so I could move on with my life and find my passion.
“Is that a long program?” Anil’s mother asked. “Anil is wanting to have a family right away.”
Before I could answer, I heard a buzz overhead. A small white drone circled the room before hovering in front of me.
“Anil builds drones and model planes in his spare time,” his mother said. “He’s good with his hands.”
I put a mental tick in the “redeeming features” box, although I was pretty sure we weren’t thinking the same thing.
The drone descended and dropped a diamond bracelet in my lap.
“Uh . . .” I didn’t know much about jewelry, but Dad did sell one-carat diamond cufflinks for $4,000 a set. Using that as a guide, I figured I’d just been given at least $1 million worth of diamonds. I didn’t know what to say to someone who had randomly drone-dropped an insanely expensive bracelet in my lap. Was he trying to buy my love? More importantly, was I for sale? $1 million would solve all my problems and Chloe’s, too. And all I’d have to do is marry Anil, move into his parents’ basement suite, and have a couple of kids.