Something in Fee’s casual closeness with their mum caused my chest to tighten. I couldn’t imagine ever calling Amma a hooligan. I wouldn’t be able to call her anything now. I shook these thoughts away to focus on the smiling being in front of me. “Hi”—I wiped my hand on my sweats and stuck it out—“nice to meet you.”

Dotty slapped my hand away and wrapped her arms around my waist. Her floppy bun barely reached my nose. How was this tiny woman Fee’s mother? I let my arms fall loosely over her shoulders in my best impression of a hug and watched Fee and Caihong exchange an amused look. “Ma! Boundaries, woman!” Fee called out.

Dotty scoffed and finally pulled away after much more time than I was comfortable with, then grabbed me by both hands and said, “Many thanks for helping to paint my shed, Daya. For your trouble, how about I make you the best Gujarati meal you’ve ever had!” Each syllable and consonant rang out like its own little entity.

“Oh, no—it’s okay. Fee’s already paying me back by being my personal chauffeur.” I smiled before I knew what I was doing.

Dotty sucked her teeth in scorn, and the sound tweaked something in my brain. My first instinct was to squeeze my palms, but Dotty’s hands were in the way. I cracked my neck instead. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want my home-cooked food?”

I glanced at Fee, who was giving me an Are you? face.

“No, no—I’d love to join you,” I said, my words tumbling out.

She made that upside-down smile brown mothers do best. “That’s what I thought. And you better bring your parents, too, okay?”

Without thinking, I yanked my hands away and squeezed them tight.

Fee came forward. “Oh, Ma, Daya lives with her aunt and uncle.” They looked at me. “And they’re a bit of a handful, aren’t they, Daya?”

My words weren’t coming and I didn’t want to talk about this shit anyway, so I just nodded and kept squeezing, trying to gather the pain rising in my chest into my hands.

Fee glanced at my fists, then added, “Ma, we’ve gotta run—we’ll finish the job in the next couple of days, okay?”

Dotty was giving me a once-over, her eyebrows knit together. “Of course—no rush.” To me, she said, “Daya, I hope I haven’t said anything wrong. I’m sorry if I did. Please come for a meal sometime anyway. Bring anyone you like!”

I forced a nod, then barely got out a “Thank you.”

In the car, Fee eyed me up in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about that, Daya. You okay?”

“Yup. Fine,” I said, pressing the belt buckle into the palm of my hand.

Chapter Sixteen