Page 119 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

She shook her head in thought. “There is one Sharda Tai I know, and she used to be a sex worker, but it would be farfetched to assume she’s his mother, no?”

“Still worth a shot.”

“Could be…” Her hand slid up and down the rolling pin. “She’s the vice president of an organization that advocates for sex workers’ rights. She and my father worked alongside each other for some years.”

“Do you have her number?”

Malati shook her head. “But I know the organization. They will have their office number on their website, right?”

I quickly scribbled the name of the organization on the handy notepad I always carried. Then, I collected the papers in a neat pile and tied them up with twine.

“Malati, you have no idea what you have done for him. We can never thank you enough,” I gushed.

She beamed. “I’m glad I could help. Like my father used to say, it starts with one kind gesture. It takes only one deed to change the world.”

“He sounds like a wise man.”

She smiled. “I wish you both a happy life. You seem to have a very compatible relationship.”

I didn’t have the heart to contradict her, so I smiled and said, “Thank you.”

SONA

Ifelt on top of the world as Sanjay drove me back home that afternoon. I stopped at my favorite bakery to pick up a chocolate cake.

My first instinct was to call the organization and ask to meet with Sharda Tai, but if anything, last night’s research held important warning signs. I couldn’t approach a birth mother so callously. She might not be ready. She might refuse to meet, which was her right. I couldn’t violate her confidentiality by producing Mihir before her. I needed her permission to do any of it. She had to be willing to meet Mihir. The best course of action would be to call her and gauge her comfort in meeting the child she had given up more than thirty years ago.

I felt good about the day, about the progress I had made. Through the immense generosity of the universe, I had found Malati, who was just as kind as her father.

Appa answered the door with playing cards in his hands, and I found Mihir, Aai, Lata, and Aaji around the dining table, playing rummy.

“What’s all this?” I said in Hindi, balancing the exquisite cake in my hand. “And what are you doing here?” I frowned at Mihir.

Aai gave me a reprimanding look, while Mihir replied, “I needed a secure internet connection for some financial transactions, so I came over.”

“And we taught him how to play rummy,” Aai said in Hindi.

Appa beamed. “And he’s going to teach us poker.”

“Why are you home in the middle of the day, Appa?”

“I came back early to spend time with you, but I ended up having an even better time with this young man,” he teased in his usual mild manner.

“Did I just enter an alternate universe?” I said, retracing my steps back to the front door. Everyone laughed while I stepped into the kitchen and deposited the cake on the counter. “Who wants chocolate cake?” I called out as I washed my hands at the sink.

“What are we celebrating?” Mihir asked.

“Happiness,” I said. “We don’t need a reason. Chocolate cake itself is a reason to celebrate.” I cut the cake into slices and put them on individual plates.

“Yes, I know…” he began but checked himself and deftly changed the subject. “So, Lata, you are a sneaky little player, aren’t you?” he said to her in Hindi. “Look how much you’ve won already!” He pointed to her pile of coins. “You’ll do excellently at poker.”

Lata giggled with joy.

“You’re playing for real money? Tsk, tsk, gamblers,” I teased as I brought the plates out.

“Just some pocket change,” Appa said, pulling a plate toward him.

I settled down in the only empty chair, which placed me next to Mihir.

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