Omkar went to the kitchen to do the dishes that were layered in the sink. Neeraj and Jarminder followed him. “What are you working on at school?” Jarminder asked him, still sniffling the remnants of their conflict away from the surface of her expression.

“I’m taking a physics course that’s really challenging. But I’m also taking a class on wave propagation in solids, and so far I really like it. Did you know that when an earthquake happens, the earth’s crust ruptures and it creates elastic waves in the earth? So essentially an earthquake is a wave.”

Omkar’s enthusiasm was met with protest. “Don’t talk to me about earthquakes, Omkar. I’ve had enough for one day.”

The soapsuds began to make Omkar’s hand itch so he turned off the water and scratched the top of his hand. Jarminder noticed him scratching. It was a good omen. “Ah … look, you’re going to receive good luck,” she said.

Omkar rolled his eyes and went back to washing. Superstitious as she was, it gave her comfort. She imagined it was God giving her the message that maybe her son was right in choosing Aria. “Omkar, why don’t you bring her for dinner tonight so we can meet her the right way? I am making sarhon dā sâg. Do you think she would like it?”

It had never occurred to Jarminder until this minute that she might be cooking one day for a daughter-in-law whose tastes differed from their own. She felt the very real fear that if Aria disliked her cooking, she might not have any other grounds for a relationship with her.

“Yes, Mama, I think she would like that very much,” Omkar replied, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder.

“You’re not going to let this get in the way of your studies?” The question was more of an order she barked at him.

“No, Mama. I promise,” he said.

When Omkar hugged them both to say goodbye after settling on a time to come back that night with Aria, he walked down the stairs light with excitement and heavy with maturity. Omkar felt like a man. Aria had a way of calling those dormant qualities out in him. He felt like he was taking his place in the world of men. Aria had been like an angel who had come to awaken him to himself.

As he got into the car to drive toward her, he remembered an old Punjabi saying. “If a man expects his wife to be an angel in his life, then he should first create heaven for her.” He finally understood that saying. It was now exactly what he planned to do.

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30