“Scott, people are staring at me,” Anjali said.
“No they aren’t.”
Anjali stared at the crowd of her relatives filling the Bombay Exchange restaurant for her cousin Simran’s engagement party, and frowned. “Yes they are. Do you think they saw the article?”
The Bay Area Sentinel had published an op-ed piece about her. “Anjali Kumar: Psychic Guru or Quack?”
“Everyone knows the Sentinel is a tabloid,” Scott reassured.
“I need a drink.”
“You have one in your hand. We just came from the bar.”
She did indeed have a vodka tonic in her hand and took a sip. “If anyone asks, this is Sprite.”
“Your father is waving me over,” Scott said. “Will you be able to handle any inquisitive aunts who come your way?”
She looked over to where her dad was standing with a group of her uncles and indeed motioning to Scott.
“Be prepared to give out some more stock tips,” she warned.
“If only my own father were so easy to impress,” Scott said and went to join her dad.
Anjali was thrilled her parents liked Scott. Sure he wasn’t Indian, but he had an MBA from Stanford, owned a nice house, and drove a Range Rover. And as one of her aunties had informed her earlier at the party, “Good thing he’s so fair. Your children will have nice complexions.”
Scott was with her at the time, and Anjali thought she’d die a slow and painful death from embarrassment.
No one from Scott’s family had made any such comments. She’d driven to Marin County to meet them, and pulling into the drive of their huge home in ultra-wealthy Belvedere, she’d felt like Gandhi taking on the British Empire.
Also because she’d fasted for days not wanting to look fat.
Either way they seemed to like her just fine.
Anjali downed the rest of her drink and headed for the restroom. She could feel her bindhi sliding down her forehead.
Unfortunately a woman stopped in Anjali’s path and stared. “I read that article about you,” she said. “Is it true?”
“That I’m a quack? No.”
“But anyone who thinks they can…” The woman’s voice trailed off as Zarina came up to them.
Her sister was wearing a pink sari. The gossamer material was embroidered in gold, and Zarina wore gold chandelier earrings and matching bracelets. Anjali had never seen her sister look so beautiful.
The look of annoyance she was familiar with.
Zarina glared at the woman and put her arm around Anjali. “She’s not crazy. She’s my sister.”
Anjali’s eyes widened, and she stared at Zarina in amazement.
“I never said…oh who cares.” The woman sniffed and walked away.
Anjali hugged her sister. “You mean that?”
“I can’t breathe,” Zarina gasped.
She quickly let go. “Sorry.”
Zarina put her hands on her narrow hips. “I’ve been evaluating my life lately, realizing what’s important to me. My marriage for one—that silly crush I had on your friend was just lust. Pure, unadulterated, pulse-pounding lust. And two—family. So, about this psychic business…”
Anjali held her breath. Her sister had defended her, but would it be too much to hope she accepted her as well?
Zarina continued, “Are you free next Saturday? Vijay’s mother wants to have you over. She wants to do a séance.”
“Séance?”
“Please?”
Anjali looked at her sister’s hopeful face and relented. “I’m free.”
Zarina smiled. “Thank you. If you ever need a favor, just ask.”
“There you girls are!” Mrs. Kumar moved toward them, elbowing people out of her way. “What were they thinking having the party in such a small place? Cheapskates.”
Anjali gasped. “Mom, they’ll hear you.”
“So what? I want to talk to you girls about something.”
“Like?” Zarina said a tad nervously.
Their mother pointed to a group of older women. “Look at them. Do you know I’m the only one of them without a grandchild?”
Anjali tried to distract her. “Mom, did you read that horrible article about me—”
“I don’t want to talk about ghosts. I want to talk about grandchildren.” Her voice started to rise. “Will I even have one before I die?”
“Mom, people are listening,” Zarina protested.
“God has blessed us with reproductive organs for a reason. Why not use them? You girls aren’t getting any younger.”
Anjali didn’t think her mother would be satisfied until her offspring repopulated the entire planet. She decided to make a break for it. “Mom, this conversation doesn’t really apply to me. I’m not even married. Zarina, on the other hand…”
Her sister’s mouth fell open.
Their mother turned the full power of her maternal gaze on Zarina. “Is Vijay not virile enough? He does seem to be on the weak side.”
Zarina’s mouth was still open. A gurgling sound emanated from it.
Mrs. Kumar scanned the room with a sharp look. “Where is that Vijay? I want to talk to him. I think it’s time the two of you came to Tempe. Everyone has grandchildren there. Such a happy place.”
Anjali smiled at her sister. “Call us even. See you at the séance.”
Humming to herself, she walked away.