Ashna tore another paper towel and wiped the tea clean. She couldn’t agree more; whatever plan Shobi had come here with was foolishness and Ashna was done with it too.

Shobi took a sip. “You know that I’m the owner of Curried Dreams, right? I inherited it as his wife.” Her parents had never gotten divorced. Ashna remembered how guilty she had felt every time she prayed that they would. “I think it’s time to sell it.”

Ashna dumped the paper towels in the garbage, hands shaking. The urge to press down, crush the garbage until it shrank to the bottom of the bin pushed inside her. “That’s a new low, even for you.” She gave in and jammed her hand into the garbage, pressing it down until it crushed and folded and smashed.

“You already hate me. I might as well do what’s right for you and risk you hating me more.”

“How is forcing me to give up my livelihood right for me?” She washed her hands to keep from shoving the garbage again.

“If it weren’t for Curried Dreams you would actually be looking for and doing something you enjoyed. You’d get out from that dark place your father thrust you into.”

Ashna was shaking now. All she wanted was to walk away. To crawl into bed. To get away from Shobi.

The habit of walking away from things must be a hard one to break.

Go to hell, Frederico Silva!

“Curried Dreams is not a dark place. I can turn it around. I’m close to doing it.”

“You’re not going to win that show. You don’t even like being a chef! You can’t win without passion.”

“Thanks, Mom. And not all of us are selfish enough to put ourselves and our damn passion before everything else!”

Shobi gasped and Ashna sucked in her lips.

All the fight seemed to leak out of Shobi. She sank onto a barstool. But the hurt didn’t last. Within moments Ashna could see the cogs in Shobi’s brain turning again. This was probably how she looked when she was trying to sort through the mess of laws and corruption and centuries-old traditions to come up with a way for her foundation to solve problems. Why hadn’t Ashna inherited that ruthlessness, even just a little bit of it?

Shobi took a sip of tea. “This tea is great, by the way. I have to take some back with me. Where do you buy it?”

Ashna poured herself some and sat down across from her mother. “I’ll get you some.” This probably meant Shobi was getting ready to leave.

Try to show estranged daughter you care: check.

Leave when it doesn’t work out: check.

For a while they drank in silence, both shaken after their outburst. But at least they’d be rid of each other soon.