Shilpa put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “No. As long as I live, Nayna will be welcome in this house and she will be welcome to every family event, and if you have any argument with that, I suggest you move yourself to the spare bedroom and stay there!”
Absolute and utter stunned silence.
Nayna didn’t know where to look. She kind of felt like she should disappear out of the room, but she didn’t want to move and make a sound. From the frozen way Raj was standing and Madhuri was sitting, they felt the same. Only her grandmother continued to rock in her chair, seemingly unconcerned with the explosion from her mild-mannered daughter-in-law.
“Gaurav beta, Shilpa bitia,” she said gently. “I think you need to take this somewhere else.”
“You both stay here,” Nayna’s mother ordered Nayna and Raj before she stalked out of the room and slammed into the kitchen, her husband following.
Nayna opened her mouth, shut it again. Raj, who was still standing, ran his hand over her hair. Her grandmother watched him, a slight smile on the seamed lines of her features.
“Well,” Aji said, “this is exciting.”
Madhuri giggled, and suddenly Nayna was giggling too. Raj looked at the two of them in bemusement, especially when their grandmother slapped her thigh and joined in the laughter. Meanwhile, from the kitchen came silence. After a while, Raj walked back there and leaned against the door while they all held their breath, then came back to tell them, “I think they’ve gone in the backyard. Can’t hear anything from the kitchen.”
That only made the three of them laugh even harder. When it was all over and they’d finally caught their breath, Nayna looked at her grandmother.
“I’m sorry, Aji,” she said. “I didn’t mean to mess everything up.”
Her grandmother waved away her apology. “Oh, mere laal,” she said with deep affection, “all I’ve ever wanted was happiness for you.” Her eyes went to Raj. “You’re a brave boy to stand up to Gaurav, and you’re the kind of boy her father should want for her. He’ll realize that when he calms down.”
Nayna wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t interrupt her grandmother.
“My boy has always been obstinate and perhaps a little judgmental,” Aji said. “You, Madhuri, didn’t help by running off. Why did you ever do such a silly thing? You know if you’d brought the boy home, you’d have eventually talked your father into a proper marriage!”
Madhuri winced. “I was young and stupid,” she said, propping her chin in her hands. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”
Funnily enough, that was such a Madhuri thing to say that it made perfect sense.
Reaching for the snacks she’d ignored until now, Nayna picked up a samosa that had gone cold. Half-wrapping it in a paper napkin, she handed it up to Raj, who’d perched himself on the arm of the sofa beside her. It put one of his powerful thighs temptingly close, but Nayna behaved herself.
“Eat,” she said. “You must be starving.” Neither one of them had eaten anything through the entire talk with Sandesh Patel’s family.
He accepted her offer, then watched as she took a samosa for herself before eating. The two of them filled their stomachs in silence for a while before Raj said, “So, who do you think will come out the winner?”
“I’m not taking any bets.” Madhuri held up her hands, palms out. “I have never seen Ma get this mad. Never.”
Nayna nodded. “Our mother doesn’t get mad,” she told Raj. “She gets disappointed or sad or maybe a little bit annoyed, but she doesn’t get angry. And she doesn’t yell at our father. Ever.”
A loud clanging sound reached them just then.
“You go,” Madhuri hissed at Raj.
Nayna started to argue, but Raj brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then bravely—and cautiously—went through the kitchen door to find out what was going on.
33
Shilpa Sharma Is Not Joking
Raj returned with the news that her mother had apparently thrown the lid of a metal trash can at her father. “It looked like it hit the fence and not him,” he said. “Your father seems to be trying to calm her down.” A pause. “It’s not working. Last I saw, she was grabbing peaches from under your tree to throw at him.”
Nayna gave him a bhajia to eat while Madhuri, now that she knew the coast was clear, snuck into the kitchen to reheat the chai, and they all had cups of that while they waited. And waited. And waited.
“It doesn’t matter what happens, Ninu,” Madhuri said at one point, a mulish tone to her voice. “You’re going to be at my wedding. If they say you can’t be, I’ll say I’m not getting married.”
Eyes burning, Nayna hugged her big sister.
Aji was smiling widely when they separated. “Shall I bring my boyfriend to your wedding?”
Madhuri almost dropped the teacup she’d picked back up. “Aji!”
Nayna giggled as Aji settled in and regaled her flabbergasted eldest grandchild with stories about her beloved Mr. Hohepa.
“We go for midnight walks some days,” she told Madhuri, a twinkle in her eyes. “A good thing about getting old is not sleeping so much.”
Nayna thought Aji’s eyebrow waggle nearly slew Madhuri on the spot.
Raj, meanwhile, was focusing strictly on the seina Nayna had passed him, as if it was a gourmet delight that required his utter and unflinching attention. Poor Raj. He’d gone looking for a traditional wife and found a drama of Bollywood proportions. But he was still here. Still standing by Nayna’s side.
Her parents pushed through the kitchen door while she was fighting the urge to hug Raj. Nayna saw a smile on her mother’s face, a somewhat befuddled, dazed look on her father’s.
“We will help you move out, beta,” her mother said to Nayna, bending down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Did you already find a place? Tell us all about it.”
Feeling a strange kinship with her dumbstruck father, Nayna did.
“Good,” Shilpa Sharma said after telling Nayna not to buy towels because Shilpa had tons of brand-new spares. “You’re close enough to help with the wedding preparations. I know Sandesh thinks he’s got everything organized, but there are a thousand things that go into a good wedding. And my Madhuri, she’s going to want a big, fancy wedding aren’t you?”
“I’ve always wanted one of those ice sculptures,” Madhuri confessed. “Like maybe a giant swan with its wings out. Oh, and gold foil used in the wings so they sparkle.”
“Oooh.” Shilpa’s eyes widened. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those at an Indian wedding—not even Pinky Mehra had one. And how about that cake you showed me on that Insta thingie? The five-layer one with the roses and the lights and the waterfall?”
“Oh, Ma!” Madhuri all but melted off the sofa “I would die if I had that cake! Should I message the baker? Maybe she can fit me in!”
* * *
The next Saturday and Nayna still had no idea what had happened.
The one thing she did know was that she was standing in her brand-new apartment, boxes around her. Raj was outside with her father and a couple of guys from his crew, doing some work on the deck while her mother and Madhuri bustled about in the kitchen, making some ginger tea for them.
Their grandmother had a slight cold and had requested it—and strangely enough, Madhuri, who was a terrible cook, made incredible ginger chai, beginning with freshly crushed ginger and lots of full-fat milk. The pot was Shilpa’s, one of a spare set her mother had given to Nayna. Along with cutlery, glasses, plates, even a rice cooker.
Nayna looked at her best friend, who was carefully unwrapping Nayna’s knickknacks. ísa sat on an old but funky red sofa that Nayna had found online and that Raj had driven forty minutes out of town to pick up for her.
“I did it,” Nayna said. “I really did it. I moved out.”
“Your father is acting very weird,” ísa whispered after craning her neck around to make sure no one would overhear her, ponytailed red hair swinging against the blue of her top. “Not angry weird. Weird weird.”