In every culture, there is a coming of age. Marin has attended a number of bat and bar mitzvahs of colleagues’ children. At thirteen, they are assumed adults, and the welcoming ceremony is an elaborate party after years of learning Hebrew and Jewish transcript. From then on, they are deemed responsible for their own actions in the eyes of the community and the religion. Marin has heard of debutante parties in the American South, where a mature girl is introduced as a woman to eligible bachelors. In the southern region of India, a small subset threw parties when their daughters began having their periods. An intimate gathering of close friends to celebrate the transition from girlhood to womanhood.
No matter what the age, reason, or belief system, a coming-of-age party was meant for the individual who had passed the milestone and also for the parents who must now see their child in a different light. The child was no longer a baby to be held or guided, but instead his or her own person on the verge of adulthood. After the celebration, they would make their own decisions, have their own emotions, and seek guidance only when they deemed it necessary.
Growing up, Marin had seen her friends experience the events that transitioned them from child to adult. She envied them their bridges, their confidence in walking across them and over the threshold to the other side. She instinctively knew that only one event would free her from the chains her father had shackled her with—her marriage. No other moment or natural event would cause him to see her as the woman she was, allow her to be her own person. She was his until the night of her marriage, when she became someone else’s. Only then would he release her, but by then, it was too late. She was already his creation, and nothing would free her from that.
But Marin would give her daughter what she didn’t have—a celebration for her coming of age. A few hours where everything would be good, a party filled with joy and laughter as Gia embarked on a new stage in her life.
Gia enters the party dressed in a pair of capris and a T-shirt. It’s not the attire Marin prefers, but she’s happy her daughter has showed up. The band plays music while guests mingle with one another. Marin makes a point to speak with each of the attendees, keeping an eye on Gia from a distance. She seems fine, even taking time to talk to some of her friends from school. Marin can imagine they are asking her what is going on and when and if she’s returning to school.
The guests talk for hours. The party is a success, just as Marin had hoped. From a distance, Marin sees Gia’s joy in being around her friends. It’s exactly what Marin had anticipated, why she had gone to such great lengths to organize it. They bring out the cake, and Gia blows out her sixteen candles.
“Make a wish, Beti,” Marin says, wondering what Gia is hoping for when she shuts her eyes and does as her mother asked.
Night falls and the California bugs begin to bite. Guests start to take their leave, each one thanking both Raj and Marin for a lovely evening. Ranee and Sonya stay, helping the crew to clean up. When only a handful of people remain, just as Marin is saying good-bye to them, a hush falls over the group.
“Don’t make a scene, Marin,” Raj cautions, walking toward her.
“What are you talking about?” Marin demands, still in the dark. Only when Ranee and Sonya join them does Marin see what is going on.
“I assume that’s Adam?” Sonya murmurs, pointing to Gia, who is embracing him.