“Is he a military doctor then? A general and a doctor. And with no kids?”

“Don’t make fun of Mummy, Naina. That’s not nice.”

“Sorry. I told you, I’m not interested. Can we please stop this rishtas thing now?”

“What stop this? How stop this?” She looked around the apartment. “This is all not joke, beta. If in natural time you don’t marry, then all sorts of unnatural things are starting to happen. The body is human, no? And humans are animals, no?”

Naina could ask her mother what she was trying to say, but it was becoming increasingly clear.

“Your father is twelve years older than me.” And the circling continued.

“I know that.”

“Challenges are there. I never say out loud, but you know challenges are there.”

If sadness hadn’t gripped Naina’s heart quite so tightly, she might have laughed out loud. Challenges are there. That could go on their family’s crest.

Nonetheless what her mother was suggesting, what she was so terrified of verbalizing, was utterly absurd. Vansh and her together was a ridiculous idea.

Don’t think it.

Do. Not. Think. It.

The thigh.

God, could you please not?

“There is nothing between me and anyone, Mummy. I promise. No one. I never want to be with anyone. You know my work is the love of my life.”

Something between dejection and relief flashed in her mother’s eyes. Even when she felt relief, something tainted it. “My poor girl. Everything will be good. Better man will come. Better for you. But you have to forget also. Move on. Don’t circle back to same place for new thing. You know?”

Naina shoved the gray cushions into her couch, smashing them into the yellow linen. Then she started to fold the discarded covers, which were going right back on as soon as Mummy left.

Her mother eyed the care with which Naina was folding. “Don’t waste time. I’ll take to Salvation Army drop-off on my way.”

Naina had to have glared at her, because she flinched. Naina hated to see her mother flinch.

She could navigate this without hurting her mother. She could. “Thing is, I want to keep them. I mean I don’t want to donate them. One of the women I work with loves them. She wants them, so I’ll just give them to her.”

“Good good. Some people like all these types of things. Such a generous heart you have. Oh! You never asked: why Mummy is here?”

Actually, she had asked. But that mattered not the least bit, so she picked up the cups. “Why are you here, Mummy?”

“I’m taking you for lunch. To Dosa. Your favorite.”