There were more stories, some about Raman, Jataka tales about Bodhisattva, stories about Jain and Buddha, about Lord Indra, The Mahabharata, The Ramayana… everything. Thatha had been my source of Indian history and mythology. He had been a great storyteller, just like his brother Kathalu-Thatha had been. But after I grew too old to sit on his lap, storytelling was replaced with discussions and now, finally, we had reached an impasse.

“I know I eventually have to go to Thatha’s house and face the music, I just don’t want to,” I said to Nate.

“Then come home with me,” he suggested. “Call and let them know you are at home. A good night’s sleep will put everything in perspective for everyone.”

“I don’t know where Nanna went and…” I shrugged.

Nate nodded and put his arm around me. He pulled my head against his shoulder and kissed me on my forehead.

“Why is it that you are so close to Thatha and I am not?” Nate asked.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, and turned to look at him. Objectively speaking he was quite a handsome young man and a wonderfully sensitive one as well. He got that from Nanna.

“Lata thinks you’re aloof.”

“Lata is a ditz,” Nate said.

“She’s not that much of a ditz,” I said, remembering the conversation I’d had with Lata and Sowmya just that evening. “She’s actually quite a woman.”

“She is pregnant again,” Nate said in disgust. “Ma told us and… it’s just such a farce. The old man wants clean blood, and what the fuck does that mean, anyway?”

Unlike several boys his age, Nate’s vocabulary was not littered with obscenities, so the fact that he was using one clearly told me about his strong feelings regarding the matter.

“They’ll never give you their permission, if that’s what you are looking for,” he said, moving on to the topic I didn’t want to discuss. “And why does it matter, Priya?”

“I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I need them in my life. I need you in my life. You’re family.”

“Need is a very strong word,” Nate reminded me.

“I know,” I said. “Oh, how I know.”

We sat in silence then and watched the cars pass by and for the first time since I had been back, I truly savored India. I had sat right here, on one of these benches seven years ago, watching cars pass by and the lights in Begumpet across Tankbund wink at me. I had sat here and wondered about my new life that awaited me in the United States, the land of opportunities. I couldn’t wait to leave, to get on that plane and fly away from my parents’ home and all the problems that came with it.

“Why don’t you want to leave India, Nate?” I asked since I had been so eager to find the new world.

“I like it here,” Nate said. “Why would I leave? Why did you leave?”

I wiped my sweaty hands on my salwar as I contemplated his question. “I left because everyone was leaving. All my classmates had written their GRE, some had married men in the U.S. and others were looking for a groom there. But I think the strongest reason was escape. I wanted to get away from here, from Ma and Nanna and Thatha and the whole family.”

“But you still want their approval?”

“Yes,” I said. “Ironic, isn’t it? I spent so much time trying to get away and now I’m scared that I won’t be allowed back in. They’ve always been my safety net. I have always been daughter, granddaughter, sister, niece just as I have been woman and fiancée. It is who I am. I can’t divorce the family any more than I can myself. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” Nate said. “I know it looks like I don’t care about them, that I’m aloof. The ditz is right. I am aloof. I don’t… You were always closer to them, Priya. I never thought I could compete. I never thought that Thatha would get close to me the way he was to you. Even with Nanna, I don’t have that closeness you do. I envy you… a lot.”

“Well, envy no more. I’m losing it all,” I said, a little flabbergasted that the nonchalant Nate was after all not all that nonchalant. How we had all misjudged him.

“No, you’re not.” Nate sighed. “They’ll never let go of you. Nanna loves you, he loves us both, I know that, but I know that he has this… this special relationship with you.”

I didn’t deny it. I had always known that Nanna and I had a closer bond. Maybe because I was the firstborn, maybe because I was a daughter, maybe because I was Priya.

“And how about Ma?”

“Ma will surprise you,” Nate said, and smiled. “She may nag, she may be a real pain in the ass, but when the chips are down, she’ll be there for both of us. No question about it.”

“I wish I was that confident,” I said. “She slapped me… twice in two days now.”

“That’s her way of showing love,” Nate said, and we both burst out laughing.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Nick earlier?” Nate asked. “You’ve been together for…”

“Three years and living together for two of them,” I supplied. “I didn’t want to tell anyone here. Frankly, I was scared what your reaction would be. An American, a foreigner! I… just didn’t want to say anything to anyone about him.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s nice, a good guy. An accountant, how is that for stable and steady?” I said, and Nate grinned. “Accountant Nick! He is… he plays racquetball; it’s like squash. You’d like him. He hates Madonna, loves Julia Roberts, thinks Salma Hayek is sexy and would like to sleep with Halle Berry. He’s tall, dark, and handsome, at least I think so. He’s stubborn, hates long lines, does this crazy thing when he has the hiccups. Drives me nuts.”

“What does he do?” Nate asked.

“He drinks three sips of water from a tall glass and after each sip he holds the glass up and looks at the bottom of the glass. Apparently it stops the hiccups.”

“And does it?”

“That’s the weird part, it does,” I said smiling. “I miss him. He wanted to come. Said it would be a Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? moment. I told him it would be more a Guess Who’s Getting Lynched? moment.”

“It would definitely have been interesting,” Nate said, getting up from the bench. “You’ve got to believe, Priya, that love conquers all. You should’ve brought him along. Let the old people deal with it head-on.”

“Oh, this is scary enough. That would’ve been worse and I don’t need to be scared any more.”

I got up and looked at the bench longingly. I would’ve been content to sit there all night with Nate, but it was time to go.

There was still no sign of my father when I got back. Thatha and Ammamma had already gone to sleep; their bedroom lights were turned off and their door was halfway closed.

Ma and Sowmya were lying on straw mats in the hall talking. When I came and sat beside Sowmya, Ma turned away.

“I’ll go and sleep up on the terrace,” I told Sowmya, and she asked me to wait a second.

“Akka, I will go up with Priya. Is that okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” Ma muttered and got up. “I will sleep in the veranda bedroom then and wait for Ashwin to get back. Where has he gone? All your fault, Priya.”

I watched her walk out of the living room with detachment. I knew she was angry but now she was ready to blame me for global warming and war as well. I couldn’t take her seriously when she was so excessive.

“Jayant and Lata went home?” I asked.

“Sleeping in the dining room bedroom,” Sowmya said, and we rolled up the mats, gathered the pillows, and got ready for bed.

It was a beautiful warm night, despite the mosquitoes being out in the millions. We lit a mosquito coil close to our mats and lay down facing each other, our cheeks pillowed against our folded hands.

“Where did you go?” Sowmya asked.

“Nate took me to meet his girlfriend and then we sat at Tankbund,” I told her.

“Is she nice-looking?”

“Yes, very cute. But North Indian,” I said. “Ma will hate her.”

“Abba, your Ma will hate anyone Nate marries, even if it is a girl she picks out herself,” Sowmya said.