Page 111 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

“Are you Malati Sonavane?” I asked in Marathi.

“Yes.” She let her guard down and opened the door a little more.

“My name is Sona, and this is Mihir Seth. His parents knew your father, and he has some questions.”

“My father? He’s been gone six years.”

“Yes, we just learned.”

She regarded us for a few seconds, then unlocked the grill. “Come in.”

We entered a cramped but neatly kept living room while she hurried inside and returned with water.

“We’re alright, thank you,” I said, and she put the tray on the coffee table between us.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked Mihir in Marathi.

“Mihir Seth,” I replied. “He doesn’t speak Marathi, but he understands Hindi.”

“Seth…” she said with a frown and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

“Your father knew my mother,” Mihir said in his gently accented Hindi. “I wondered if he had more information.”

It took me a minute to process the incongruity of the statement. His mother? I stole a glance at him. His mother? Did she have an affair with this woman’s father? Is that what he discovered that day?

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Malati said. “My father is gone, but I know that name. Are you a doctor?” she asked him.

“No, my father is a doctor.”

“Oh!” She sat upright as if something had clicked. “Maybe they worked together. My father knew a lot of doctors.”

“Yes, they did before he moved to the U.S.,” Mihir said.

Meanwhile, I tried hard to rein in the wild flights of my imagination.

“What information do you need?” Malati asked him.

Mihir’s gaze darted to me. There was something raw and panicked in his gaze.

“Do you want me to step outside?” I asked him softly.

“No,” he said, holding my wrist. Despite the solemn setting in the room, his touch felt good. It felt familiar and right, but he promptly removed his hand and turned to Malati.

“He helped my mother a long time ago. I want to know who she is.”

Who she is? Now I was completely perplexed.

Malati was too. “I don’t understand. You don’t know who your mother is?”

“No…”

Huh?

“But your father, he, uh, I thought he might have some information about her.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to help you. I wish you had come a few years ago.”

Mihir’s tall body deflated again. “Thank you for everything,” he said in English and rose. I stood as well.

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