AS DAWN BROKE through a cotton candy sky, I thought about installing one of those digital counters like at McDonald’s. Only mine would say: over one million blessed.
The last worshipper had left, and I was heading up to bed when I saw the front door was still open. I went to close it and spotted Tahir sitting on the doorstep. “You’re still here?”
He patted the spot next to him, and I sat down. His eyes were tired and his jaw covered in stubble. “I was waiting for you.”
I entwined my arm with his and rested my cheek on his shoulder. “I’m glad.”
“You know, I think you went a tad overboard with Nadia. She was humiliated.”
So much for snuggling.
I moved away. “She had it coming. What about her crack that I had doomed the human race?”
Tahir reached for my hand. “It’s not about her. It’s about you. Have you been out patrolling for malevolence lately?”
I pulled my hand back. “I’ve been busy, okay? The meet and greet is as much a part of my job as fighting evil.”
Tahir gave me a dubious look that roused my ire, and reached inside his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. “I’ve been doing some research, asking around. I found her.”
“Her?” I took the paper.
Indira Bhatia
GBS Syntex
“GBS Syntex?” I asked. “How did you find this out?”
He grinned. “Through the Indian grapevine. GBS Syntex is in Tustin. I’ll take the day off and go with you. We’ll just stroll through the lobby, find out where Indira’s office is, barge in there, and you can do your cool wind tunnel–mind control thing.” He glanced at his watch. “She’ll be at work in a couple of hours.”
“Well thanks for the info,” I said. “But I really need to get some sleep.”
“We’ll catch her in the evening, then, before she gets off work.”
I didn’t respond.
“Would you rather go by yourself?” he asked. “I understand. Although I was hoping to see you in action.” He smiled and slid his arm around my waist.
“I’ll go when I can, Tahir.”
His grin disappeared. “What’s more important? Sitting around and being petted and pampered, or going after the man who has sworn to kill you?”
I shrugged his arm off me and stood up.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tahir demanded.
What was wrong with me?
“I just want to enjoy being a goddess for a while. I don’t want to think about Sanjay or all the evil in the world. I want to bask in the attention, the love, the smiling faces of my parents and my aunts—who for once—aren’t trying to fix my life. I want to be with these people—these strangers—who’ve come from all over just to see me.”
Me.
Maya Mehra.
Gandhi girl.
Tahir slowly rose to his feet. “Maya…I didn’t realize…I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you were just trying to help.”
He reached out and gently pulled me into his arms. I closed my eyes and pressed myself against him. He kissed me, and we pulled apart. “Now get a good night’s, ah, day’s sleep, and I’ll call you.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
He smiled back and turned to walk down the drive.
Without thinking I blurted out, “Can you tell your mom to maybe ease up on me a little?”
Tahir stopped, shoulders rigid. “What did you say about Ma?”
Oops.
There was no going back now. “What I mean is, I threw up on her, and that was bad. But I apologized, didn’t I? So why does she glare at me like she’s a sleeping cobra and I’m the little boy who’s been poking her with a stick?”
Well it was a good metaphor.
Tahir slowly turned around. “She’s come to every one of your Pujas, hasn’t she? Have you ever taken the time to talk to her?”
“Talk to her? I can barely get within ten feet of her. She’s drenched herself in Eau de You’re Not Good Enough For My Son.”
Tahir took a step forward. “Listen, the reason Ma flew in was because I told her how serious I am about you. I want her to get to know you, like you…”
“Why do you even care what your mom thinks? We love each other. That should be enough.”
Tahir’s laugh was abrasive. “Well it’s not. That’s the difference between India and America. I care what my parents think. I need for them to approve of the woman I love. I need their blessing. Couldn’t you try—”
“Try what? Try to be a different person? Your mom obviously wants a typical Indian daughter-in-law who quietly pours tea and doesn’t speak her mind. I’m American. Screw that. I’m a goddess.”
Tahir looked at me for a long moment, then turned and walked away.
I tossed my hair. Whatever. I needed my beauty sleep. Tomorrow night my worshippers would be waiting. I turned to go back inside when—
“Maya?”
My brother Samir was coming up the walkway. He was on the shorter side—like all Mehra men—and had always been quiet and serious. I noticed he’d ditched the glasses, grown his hair, and had a leather satchel slung across his chest. He looked good. Stanford seemed to be agreeing with him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So you’re really a goddess.”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
“Can be.”
“Well, I drove all night, so I’d better get some sleep.”
“Me too.”
Together we entered the house.
It was the longest conversation Samir and I had had in years.