For years there had been an unspoken rivalry between Mohini and Jayshree, who were only two months apart in age. They both had skin the color of sandalwood. Jayshree had a round face, with eyes that looked like they might roll off her face. Her nose was flat in the front, with tiny nostrils. A large black mole on her chin was striking, though, and transformed her ordinary face into a pretty one.

Mohini had an oval face, with curly lashes and a nose as straight as a candle’s flame. She had no beauty mole, but her soft wispy hair always kissed her forehead.

Kirti Auntie had never considered me pretty. She used to refer to me as the one with bhine-vaan, a wet complexion. When I was little I didn’t understand what it meant. One day, when I was about eight years old, I figured out that she meant dark-complexioned, like when a cloth is wet and it looks much darker than it does dry. So when she called me bhine-vaan, I said, “It’s not as bad as bhine-saan, soggy sensibility, is it?”

After that day she stopped calling me bhine-vaan.

Kirti Auntie picked up the matrimonial pages and, fanning herself, asked, “Have you seen this boy?”

“No, we haven’t, but we’re meeting next Thursday.”

“And who’s the other one?”

“He’s the son of the magistrate Kapadia, and he’s only visiting for a month.”

“From America?” Kirti Auntie’s eyes widened and her lips parted as if she were going to gobble up a sweet, round ladu for dessert.

I wished Mummy wouldn’t say any more. Her giving all this information to the scheming Kirti Auntie made me uncomfortable.

I had good reason to worry, as it turned out. The next week, Mrs. Maganlal Chaganlal sent us a message that their nephew was engaged to be married to Jayshree, and so the Thursday meeting was canceled. Mummy was furious. “That Kirti didn’t come to pay us a visit. She came to grab the nephew of Mr. Maganlal Chaganlal. Every time her mouth drips honey, I get stuck in it. I wonder what else is lurking inside her murky mind?”

Pappa laughed. “Now that she’s taken her revenge, she might leave us alone.”

I knew exactly what Pappa meant. Kirti Auntie was six months older than Mummy, and growing up, they attended the same school, ate in the same kitchen, walked to school together, and studied together. For years, they had played with each other and fought with each other.