Shanti shrugged. “I just knew you’d be here like every Sunday and thought it’d be fun to see you two. Daya made the Honeys, Nana! And she’s been put through all kinds of shenanigans.” She looked at me. “It’s been tiring. But she’s been an awesome sport about it all.”

Come to think of it, I really had been a pretty good sport about everything. Considering how un-shenanigany I was.

“I thought some Bee and Yolanda time would be good for our souls,” she continued.

“Well, ain’t that sweet,” Bee said. “So you made the team, then, did ya?”

“I did.”

“Well, listen, if you made the cut, that means you must be a real gem. The Honeys only take the very best, ya know. Ain’t that right, Yolanda!” She smacked Yolanda on the ass, causing a squawk to erupt from Yolanda’s mouth.

“I’m not sure about the gem part, but I hope I can do the team proud.” I really did. A pocket of dread opened up in my stomach as I remembered Kat’s words last night, but I tried to stay focused on the moment at hand. I’d have to figure that other shit out later. And somehow, after last night and all this around me now, I felt like I’d be able to find a way.

“Aw, you will, you will,” Bee piped up, and I decided she was responding to both my thoughts and my words, which made me feel a bit better. “Just keep puttin’ all ya heart and sweat into it. You’ll get there!”

“Now, who’s up for a game of Ping-Pong? Two old babes against two young ones?” Yolanda asked, rubbing her bony hands together.

Shanti and I stared down at their walker and cane, then at each other.

We laughed. Yolanda almost smiled. And I realized how much I missed laughing.

“Sudu haale, bath wele, sambole

Rasa dunne, mulu lokema handunanne

Lunu ha dehi api denna!”

“Dad!”

“Api denna, ek weela, pana wage

Lowe inne, heda penna, hina heela

Sahayogen wede denne!”

“Amma—make him stop!”

The three of us were in the car, the baila on full blast, and Thatha was singing along with the windows down like he was giving his own solo concert to every other car on the road. I was sitting behind my dad and could see Amma trying to suppress a laugh in the passenger seat.

“Mum!” The synthesizer buzzed over the speakers.

She turned back to me, a downward smile escaping. “What do you want me to do, Daya?”

And then, as if to torment me further, she started singing along, head wobbling from side to side.

“Hemathena hemawita eka wage gelapena

Rata diva pinawana, rasa guna gena dena

Lunu dehi, lunu dehi!”