ísa blinked and read the message again. Cody? Valiantly fighting to help a mugging victim? ísa’s bullshit meter swung over to blazing red.
She quickly typed a reply: Micki, is this is for real?
Michelle must’ve been online because she answered almost immediately. Absolutely, she said. I lurk on Suzanne’s friends list just so I can gossip about her. I have no shame. Not after she turned frenemy when we were sixteen and stole my boyfriend. She thinks I forgave her—ha-ha! Micki never forgives or forgets!
Anyway, I heard from another mutual friend that Cody really does look like he went two rounds with a professional boxer and came out the loser. Jaw’s not broken, sadly. Not like the drama queen says. But that ass is still going to be bruised for the wedding, which means Suzanne’s wedding photos will forever make her grimace, and that makes my evil heart cackle.
ísa messaged back with a row of cackling faces of her own.
Then she put down the phone and thought of the playful man with steely confidence who’d scowled and said someone needed to teach Cody a lesson. Surely, surely… Her heart thumped. No, it couldn’t be. She was just a teacher who’d molested him in a parking lot and then gotten naked with him in a secluded little water spot.
There was no reason for Sailor Bishop to have punched out Cody on her behalf. Cody had probably fallen on his face and made up that heroic story to explain the bruises so Suzanne wouldn’t blame him for her ruined wedding photos.
ísa’s hand clenched around her phone.
She had Sailor’s number.
16
The War of the Cacti (with a Cameo from a Swamp Creature)
A KNOCK ON HER DOOR, Nayna no doubt having used ísa’s security code to come up.
Figuring that was a sign from the gods, ísa put down her phone and went to open the door, dying to fill her friend in on Cody’s unfortunate facial situation. Then she took in Nayna’s own expression.
“Hey,” she said, enfolding her friend in a huge hug. “What’s the matter?”
Nayna made a face as they drew apart. “Sometimes,” she muttered, “I get tired of being the dutiful daughter.” She shut the door behind herself. “Let me help you finish prepping dinner, and then I’ll tell you the story of my sad, sad life.”
It didn’t take them long to get everything together.
Taking their plates, they sat on the sofa in front of the television; it was currently playing their favorite trashy reality show.
Nayna began to speak halfway through the episode. “It’s Madhuri,” she said, referring to her older sister.
“Has she done something rebellious again?” ísa asked, well aware of the big scandal in Nayna’s family history—the eldest Sharma daughter had eloped with a boy from her college when she’d been a bare nineteen years of age. Nayna herself had only been fourteen at the time.
Shaking her head, Nayna mumbled her next words through a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes. “She’s mostly the reason why my parents have been so strict with me, but today she was sitting in the kitchen at breakfast, chatting away to our parents while I helped my mom make breakfast.”
“Your sister’s been welcome back in the family for a few years.” ísa ate a big scoop of the bean salad, made an “mmm” sound that had Nayna nodding.
“I don’t care what strange herbs and spices they put in that salad,” her best friend said, “they’ll pry my bean salad out of my cold, dead hands.”
Swallowing her current bite of sweet, salty beany goodness, ísa said, “Anyway, I thought you loved having her around.” The family estrangement had lasted six long years, during which Nayna had desperately missed her big sister. Her parents had refused to talk to their eldest daughter even after Madhuri’s relationship broke up four years after the elopement.
“I do.” Nayna’s face fell. “But today I truly realized just how much my father loves her.” Wet in her eyes, her voice thick. “She was always his favorite—the one who could make him laugh, coax him to give us extra sweets, or let us stay up to watch TV. She was the sister with the spirit, the child full of color and joy and wildness. That’s part of the reason I’ve always loved her too.”
Personally, ísa had always thought Madhuri an attention-seeking flibbertigibbet, but she figured everyone had blinders about something. Nayna’s happened to be about her sister.
Nayna tore off a piece of chicken with her teeth even as a tear rolled down her face. “Today I saw that, despite everything, she’s still his favorite. I don’t mind that, I really don’t. It’s just… I can’t even get him to give me a ‘well done’ hug.”
Another gnawing bite of the chicken as she sobbed. “I’m trying so hard to be the perfect daughter, ísa, and it just struck me today that none of it matters.” She gesticulated wildly with her drumstick. “I will never be well-behaved enough, never ever follow the rules well enough, never see my father’s eyes light up with pride. I’m fucking killing myself toeing the line, and it doesn’t fucking matter!”
In all their years together, ísa had only heard Nayna swear maybe five times. So she didn’t hug her best friend—she could tell the other woman was as furiously angry as she was sad. Instead, she said, “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but part of the reason you went the whole arranged-marriage route was to make your parents happy. Are you rethinking that?”
Nayna put down the drumstick. “This isn’t just about my father. There’s also my grandmother. I want her to be happy—she never got to have the big wedding for her granddaughter that she dreamed about while we were growing up. I want to give her that.”
ísa scowled. “Your grandma loves you unconditionally, you egg.” ísa had been hugged by those same soft arms, her impression of Nayna’s grandmother a fusion of textures and scent—the softness of the white sari that was her daily wear, the hint of incense that clung to her because of her early-morning prayers, the fancy perfume she loved and that Nayna gave her for her birthday every year.
“She’s had a lot of pain in her life,” Nayna countered. “A lot of loss. I want to give her this one bright, shining moment.”
“You really think she’ll be happy when she realizes how unhappy you are?”
Nayna stared at her empty plate. “I should’ve bought ice cream when I got the salad.”
“Please,” ísa muttered. “Like I’d ever run out of ice cream. But read this in the meantime.” After pulling up Michelle’s messages, she handed her phone to Nayna. “It’ll make you feel better.”
Nayna was laughing in open glee by the time ísa returned with the two-liter tub of rocky road ice cream and two spoons. “If you ever find the man who did this to Cody’s face—and to Suzanne’s precious wedding,” Nayna said, her eyes shining, “you need to offer him a blow job at least. It’d only be polite.”
ísa’s face went hot red between one second and the next.
Of course Nayna caught it. “You know who it was!” she accused. “Tell me!”