Everyone in the room became very still. Ammamma, who had been fanning herself with the day’s Deccan Chronicle with one hand while eating with the other, stopped in midair and looked at her husband, seeking out a reaction.

Sowmya had put it out there, told everyone, especially Thatha, that if he complained or insisted too much about knowing the gender of the baby he would be slotted away with all those other despicable middle-class men who participated in female infanticide. She had managed to corner the great old man himself with a few words.

“Okay,” Thatha said, looking at Sowmya as if he had never seen her before. “Whatever Lata wants.”

Lata, who was waiting by the back yard to hear the outcome of her announcement, smiled. “We will leave for the night,” she said, coming into the kitchen. “We want to go to my parents’ house so that we can drop Apoorva and Shalini off at school tomorrow morning.”

Jayant washed his hands in the plate but unlike his wife did not bother to put his plate away.

“Thatha,” I started, and fell silent when he raised his hand.

“I will not accept it, Priya. If you marry this man, then you are not my family,” Thatha said.

I had expected it all along but I had not been prepared for the pain that followed his announcement. My heart felt heavy and I clenched my teeth in an effort not to cry. I didn’t want to give the old man the satisfaction. He had hurt me just as deeply as I imagine I had hurt him. Were we even now?

“Then that is your choice, I have no problems with who Priya marries,” Nanna said clearly and rose from the table with his plate. Jayant and Lata who were about to leave stood still by the doorway between the dining area and the hall to see the drama through to its end.

Sowmya took Nanna’s plate and he walked up to the sink by the doorway to the back yard. No one said anything while the water from the tap splashed on his hand and cleaned it.

“And you think that marrying this American is going to make her happy?” Thatha demanded while Nanna dried his hands on the towel hanging on a rusty nail over the sink. In all the years we had all been together, I had never seen or even heard of Thatha and Nanna having a confrontation.

“I think that how she lives her life is her choice and yes, I believe that she will be and actually she is happy with Nicholas,” Nanna said, still standing, keeping his advantage by looking down at Thatha.

Thatha washed his hands in his plate and looked at Ma. “Radha? Is this okay with you?”

Ma sat still for a very long moment and then nodded.

“It is going to only end badly,” Thatha told Nanna. “And when it does,” he pointed a finger at him, “I want you to know that you will be the person with the most blame. You can stop her. Do it now.”

Nanna shook his head. “She is my daughter and this is my choice to make, just like you are making yours. I trust her. I believe her to be a smart and intelligent woman. I think that if she says she is happy with Nicholas, she is telling the truth. Priya is no fool.”

“But you are for letting her do this,” Thatha said agitated, his chest heaving with the rage he was trying to control. This was his family, he was supreme here. How dare anyone go against him.

“In that case, my family and I will take leave of you,” Nanna said politely, so politely that it was insulting in its weight.

Ammamma cried out then. “No, no. Why do you talk like this?” She looked at her husband of fifty-one years with admonishment. “He didn’t mean it, Ashwin.” She tried to assuage my father.

“Then he shouldn’t have said it,” Ma said angrily. In all the years that we had all been together, Thatha had never called Nanna names. This was quite an event and I was solely to blame, or so I felt. Guilt that I had banished just a little while ago came back in big waves rolling me into them and throwing me on the shore of repercussions.

“I shouldn’t have said it,” Thatha said slowly, realizing that he was breaking up his family.

“It is not right but… she is a daughter’s daughter,” Ammamma said, patting Thatha’s shoulder. “And if Radha and Ashwin feel it is okay, who are we to say anything?”

Thatha nodded grudgingly but didn’t look at Nanna or Ma or me. This was the end, I realized. There would be no sneaking away to the pomegranate tree or taking walks with him. There wouldn’t be phone calls on the weekend where he would complain about the Indian politicians and how the corporation he had leased the mango orchards to was treating him.

“I hope that you will one day feel better about this,” I told Thatha. “I’m happy with this man. I thought that would be important to you.”

Thatha shook his head, defeated. He didn’t say anything. He was coming to terms with the fact that he was not master of my father’s house, that when push came to shove, Ma would always stand by her husband and they both would stand by me, regardless of my decision and their consequences.

“And at least,” Ammamma said with a broad shrug, “he is white, not some kallu.”

I froze.

Damn it!

Had I forgotten to mention Nick was black?

TO: PRIYA RAO ‹[email protected]›

FROM: NICHOLAS COLLINS ‹[email protected]›

SUBJECT: SORRY!

I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING OUT OF TOUCH ALL DAY YESTERDAY BUT THINGS HAVE BEEN A TOTAL MESS. I WENT TO LUNCH WITH STEVEN AND SUSAN TO THIS PUB IN THE CITY AND SOMEONE GOT AWAY WITH MY LEATHER BAG AND MY LEATHER JACKET. MY CELL PHONE WAS IN THE JACKET AND MY PALM ALONG WITH MY COMPUTER WAS IN MY BAG… I AM COMPLETELY FUCKED!

I THINK I HAVE SOME OLD STUFF ON YOUR LAPTOP SO ONCE YOU’RE BACK YOU CAN HAVE A LOOK AND LET ME KNOW. FOR NOW, I HAVE LOST ALL MY CONTACTS BUT AT LEAST I HAVE SOME CDS THAT I USED TO BACKUP MY HARD DRIVE TWO MONTHS AGO.

I SPOKE WITH FRANCES AND SHE TOLD ME YOU WERE WORRIED. I’M RIGHT HERE… A LITTLE LIGHT ON HI-TECH TOYS BUT RIGHT HERE.

HOW WAS EVERYTHING? ARE YOUR GRANDFATHER AND FATHER FEELING ANY BETTER?

I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO COME BACK HOME. AND FRANCES TOLD ME THAT YOU AGREED TO GET MARRIED THIS FALL IN MEMPHIS? ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? I THOUGHT YOUR HEART WAS SET ON MONTEREY OR CARMEL, SOMEWHERE BY THE OCEAN. AND SHE SAID THAT YOU WANT TO GET PREGNANT BY THE END OF THE YEAR? I’M ASSUMING THAT A LOT OF THIS IS WISHFUL THINKING ON HER PART, IN ANY CASE, WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT WHEN YOU GET HOME.

OH AND I HOPE YOU HATED THAT GUY THEY TRIED TO HOOK YOU UP WITH.

I LOVE YOU AND I MISS YOU, SO COME HOME SOON

NICK

Epilogue – Ready to Eat

The avakai arrived with an Indian who was coming to the Bay Area and whose parents Ma and Nanna knew. Raghunath Reddy didn’t seem to mind carrying the midsized glass jar. “One amongst the many,” he told me when he dropped the mango pickle off at my office, which was right next to his. “I have two more jars and one sari to deliver,” he added.

Nick thought the pickle was too spicy but continued to eat it without ghee or rice, which was as close to killing yourself as you could come with the hot-hot pickle.

My experience with India in the summer had left me with a better understanding of Nick and my relationship with him and my family. Nick was pleased that I didn’t end up marrying a nice Indian boy and assured me that he had never thought about leaving me because I couldn’t tell my family about him.

“We come from different cultures, I understand that,” he said. “I was frustrated at times but never enough to not want to be with you. This is who you are; you’d not be you if you didn’t care about your family.”

It was a relief to be back in the U.S. This was familiar territory and I didn’t feel like a cross between a delinquent teenager and a bad daughter anymore. That feeling had passed when Ma, at the Hyderabad International Airport, had waved good-bye with tears in her eyes.