Page 26 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

“I guess there was a hidden message somewhere behind your gift.”

He released a suave laugh. “There was hidden intent for sure. To annoy the hell out of them.”

“I’m sure they loved it.”

The gentle lapping of water filled the silence between us.

“This house is fantastic,” I said. “Looks like it has been built with love and care.”

He laughed again, but this time, it was louder, crasser. “Believe me when I say that Grant didn’t build it with love and care. He built it to spite his family. He’s…got issues.”

“How does owning a gorgeous house spite his family?”

“It’s what he uses it for, but I’ll let him know you loved it. He’ll appreciate that.”

“So is he, like, loaded?”

He grinned. “You can say that. He’s local royalty. Generations of oil money.”

“Ah, one of those.”

“He’s a good guy, true as they come. We’ve been friends since the third grade.”

“Well, tell him I loved this house and wish him all the happiness.”

Mihir crossed his feet at the ankles and relaxed against the lounger. In the silence that followed, I heard the river singing sweet songs of the night. A lazy lull, then rhythmic lapping against the parapet, followed by another lull pressing lightly into the languid breeze.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” he said in the pause between the lull and the lapping.

“No, I thought I’d read a little, and then my parents called.”

“What language was that? That’s not what you speak with Tara, is it?” he asked.

I felt warm. “No, my father speaks Malayalam. My mother is Marathi.”

“And that’s what you speak with Tara?”

“Marathi, yes.”

“So what’s their story? I bet they have an intriguing one.”

I smiled that he knew enough about India to surmise they did. “They met on the bus,” I said. “They took the same bus to work every day. One day, Appa gave up his seat to her, and after that, he began saving her a seat. Appa says when Aai asked his name, her face registered shock and disappointment. His name is Thomas, so she knew he wasn’t a Hindu. She didn’t sit beside him for the next few days, but he continued to save a seat for her. A week later, she slid into the seat beside him.”

“I bet that landed them in trouble.”

“Well, more drama than trouble, I guess,” I said. We laughed about it now, but I couldn’t imagine being in their shoes, being that brave.

“Appa had moved from Kerala to Mumbai for college, then found a job there,” I continued. “His family made a little noise, but he didn’t have to face them daily. Aai, on the other hand, lived with her parents, and they flipped out when she told them. They threatened to disown, disinherit, and ostracize her. It was her oldest aunt, her mother’s sister, who came to her rescue. She commanded much respect in the family. She summoned my grandparents and said, ‘You have raised your daughter with the education she needs to be a responsible adult. Don’t you trust your own upbringing? If she thinks she’ll be happy with Thomas, why would you doubt her? Talk to the boy. See if he is worthy of your daughter.’”

Mihir’s expression softened. “And they did.”

I nodded. “Aai was Ajoba’s favorite child—that’s my grandfather. They agreed to meet Appa with the rather empty threat that if they didn’t like him, she’d have to give up any hope of marrying him. But he wowed them. He was educated, intelligent, and polite. Not all educated people are intelligent and kind, Ajoba had said. Begrudgingly, they agreed.”

“Good for them,” Mihir said.

“You can say that because my grandparents lived with us until they passed. They didn’t feel at home with any of their other children. Appa treated them like his parents, not in-laws. He loved them and argued with them, and they loved him back like a son. Toward the end, they trusted him more than their own son, which caused some friction in the family for a while. But Appa is so humble, it is difficult to stay mad at him for long.”

The happy memories flooding my heart in the moment brought a big smile to my face. In hindsight, much of the family dynamic eased out because Appa had surpassed all expectations of success. When they got married, both Aai and Appa had normal jobs, classic Indian middle-class. Then, Appa rose quickly through the ranks. He changed a few jobs, landing better positions with higher pay. Currently, he was the CFO of a multinational corporation in Mumbai. When the money flooded in, everyone’s attitudes changed. Aai’s extended family, who’d initially shunned them as outcastes, were now tripping over themselves to congratulate my parents. They used to call my grandparents to applaud them for such a wonderful son-in-law who took such good care of them.

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