TAHIR WAS just being a bitch.
He’d come around.
The little voice inside me, covered in dirt, crawled up from the hole and tried to say something. I clubbed her over the head for good measure and pushed her back in with my foot.
I was never one to subscribe to that sacrifice-everything-for-your-family Indian shit. Unfortunately I’d fallen in love with a guy who did.
What I didn’t get was why Pinky was so opposed to my relationship with her son? She and Aunt Dimple had made the match in the first place. It couldn’t just be because of the vomiting.
I had a sudden sneaking suspicion.
Picking up the cordless by my bedside, I dialed Aunt Dimple. “Tell me more about your lunch at McDonald’s with Pinky,” I said by way of greeting.
My aunt was eating and talking at the same time, and her reply was unintelligible.
“Aunt Dimple, can you not eat for a few minutes please?”
“But I’m hungry,” she cried. “All morning I have been running around buying candles and incense and sandalwood—your mother has me doing all the hard work—I only had time for toast and egg in the morning. And then a Cinnabun and chocolate milk shake at the shopping mall.”
“I’m sorry. But I need to know if Pinky really agreed to my match with Tahir.”
Aunt Dimple was silent.
I rubbed my forehead. “I won’t get mad.”
“Well,” my aunt said slowly, “she liked your picture. She thought you were very pretty. She was happy you lived with your parents and not on your own doing God knows what. The age factor was appropriate—I had lied about that, you see, because you look so young—”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Go on.”
“But she wanted a girl born and raised in India, with Indian values.”
“I knew it!” I couldn’t keep the triumph from my voice. “I knew you lied!”
“I did not lie,” Aunt Dimple protested. “I wanted the two of you to meet because I knew it would be love at first sight. And it was, no?”
Not.
She continued. “I spoke to Tahir. I told him he had to meet my niece Maya.”
“Told or begged?” I asked.
More silence.
I closed my eyes. “Forget it. What’s done is done. I just wanted to clear things up.”
“But Maya, you’re a goddess! It is most auspicious to have a goddess in the family. Pinky will surely see that. Better than having a daughter-in-law who can cook and organize the household.”
“Good-bye.” I hung up.
I sat back against the pillows. So that explained it. Aunt Dimple had fudged the facts. Tahir’s mother had never approved of me in the first place. She’d probably told Tahir to at least meet me just to make my family happy, and he’d agreed because we were providing him with room and board.
None of that mattered now. I had no intention of trying to win Pinky over. It was an impossible task anyway. Tahir had to choose. His mother or me.
I had a sick feeling I already knew the outcome.
I wanted to wallow in my thoughts. I wanted to burrow under the blankets. I wanted to be alone.
My bedroom door banged open, and Ram rushed in.
I shrieked and pulled the sheet up to my chin. I was wearing a thin white cotton tank top that skimmed my ass, and no bra.
“Rise and shine,” Ram said happily.
“This is highly inappropriate,” I snapped.
He waved his hand. “Bah. Every day the beautiful ebony statue of Kali-ma is undressed and bathed in milk by the chosen priests of our temple. At night she is dressed again.”
“I’m not a statue, Ram!”
“That is true.”
“What do you want?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I have found a most worthwhile organization. They rehabilitate snakes that were mistreated or abandoned as pets and release them into nature. You and I shall pay them a visit this afternoon.”
“Snakes? Snakes give me the creeps—anything with scales does.” Including Tahir’s mother.
Ram wagged his finger at me. “Snakes are good luck. They are worshipped in India.”
“I thought snakes were considered an omen,” I argued.
“Some worship snakes, some fear snakes, it is essentially the same thing,” Ram countered.
It might have been the afternoon, but it was still too early for me to try and make sense of what he just said.
“I’m not going, Ram.”
He wagged his finger even harder. “A goddess must take care of her children. She must give back to the community. Half of what you are given must in turn be bestowed on those who need it.”
“Fifty percent!” I sat up and the sheet dropped to my waist. Ram’s eyes widened, and I quickly lifted it up again. “You want me to give half my money away? Christians only give ten percent! I need this money, Ram, and I’m not giving it away. Especially not to a couple of snakes! I’m buying a condo.” I folded my arms and stared at him stubbornly.
Ram sighed and sat up. “I cannot force my will on yours. I will go alone. There is much you still have to learn, and it is clear I will not be the one to teach you. I have failed.”
“Come on, Ram—” I began, but he had already left.
I got out of bed. Ram had left the bedroom door open, and I went to close it when a burly red-faced man in overalls walked down the hallway. “Can someone tell me where to set up the new altar?” He looked at me, and his eyes bulged.
“Oh, grow up,” I snarled, and slammed the door in his face.