The blatant inequality of the statement made Anita roll her eyes. But she couldn’t deny that those things—marriage and domestic life—were exactly what were going wrong for her mother now. It was far too late for Anjali to attend IIT. But maybe it was not too late for her to be, in some way, settled. Adjusted.

“What sort of gold does that come from?” Anita asked.

She thought she heard her mother shifting in the bedroom. Anjali would be furious to imagine beginning the cycle again.

“Good happy-home happy-life blessing? Where else? From wedding gold,” Lakshmi said. “Actually, gold given just before a wedding. When everything is all, how to put it, promise. Absolutely fresh wedding gold, understand?” Anita’s eyes widened. Lakshmi went on: “You have this bridal event you are planning, isn’t it? That is what has given me this idea. There you will have good jewelers, with all kinds of handmade pieces and what all? Yes? Come. Let us talk about helping your mother.”

“THAT’S WHY YOU CALLED ME? After all this time?” I lowered my voice. “You want me to do it again?” I inched my stool away. The intensity of her attention on me earlier in the night, the willingness to confess heartbreaks—all a calculation. To get me on her side. For a ridiculous cause! Anita seemed unperturbed. She signaled to the bartender for water.

“For a proper Indian wedding,” she explained, willfully ignoring my agita, “you need certain things, as I’ve discovered over the past few years of every brown girl I know shaadi-ing up. You need someone to do mehendi—henna. You need a DJ, a caterer. Someone to tailor your lehenga. Get the point? Yes. And these vendors may not be available if you live in, say, some bumblefuck American suburb. So people come to these big convention centers to do all their wedding shopping.”

“And some people get jewelry there.” I felt spittle fly from my lips.

She swigged, then replied. “Yes. Some people have their inherited wedding trousseaus, though not everyone. These days women want modern, lighter gold or they rent. But desi brides always get high quality, high karat. And that gold—it contains—”

“Well-adjustment.” I remembered Prachi’s party, seeing happily engaged Maya’s earrings and wondering at all they contained, at all I could have if I took them.

The faith to make it from day to day. Faith to lead Anjali Joshi out of bed, to new life.

The bartender was mopping up after a clumsy guy who had just spilled his cocktail. I had to imagine last call was soon; it was past midnight. The klutz had been eyeing Anita hungrily. Her bony knee knocked against mine, and she left it there.

“Don’t you have enough money to buy wedding gold yourself?”