“So, Leila, beti, what have you been up to?” My father turned toward me. I looked down and spooned a lump of rice into my mouth.

“Nothing much, Abba. Same old,” I mumbled with my mouth full. My mother glanced at me from across the table.

“And how is your search coming along?” he asked.

“It’s coming.” I shoved another spoonful in. I could tell my father wanted more details, but I had nothing more to share. Anything I said would launch them into an hour-long tirade about all the things I was doing wrong. I didn’t have it in me to hear those same criticisms. Not now. So I remained silent.

After a few uncomfortable moments, my mother changed the topic, much to my relief.

“Leila, I was telling your father about Meena’s engagement. Her wedding is less than two weeks away, you know.” I nodded. As much as I hated hearing about Meena’s upcoming nuptials, I was grateful that they at least shifted the focus off of me. “I was actually thinking of attending. What do you think?”

“That’s great,” I said, with as much fake interest as I could muster.

“But there is only one problem. Your father cannot accompany me.”

“Jaan. You know I have to work.”

“I know. I know.”

“You will have to go without me. Besides, I would rather save up my vacation days for our own beti’s wedding.” He winked at me. I looked away and slumped back into my chair.

“Actually, I was hoping our beti would come with me this time.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Leila. What do you say?”

I was not interested in attending Meena’s wedding at all. It was bad enough having to hear about it from eight thousand miles away. Why would I want to experience it up close and personal?

“Can’t you just ask one of your friends to come?” I offered. Considering the ever-growing list of aunties my mother knew, I was sure she could convince one of them to come along. Of all the skills she possessed, her strongest by far was persuasion.

“Nonsense, Leila. Why don’t you just come?”

“Leila, you are also off from school right now,” my father added. “It will be the perfect summer vacation!” I scrunched my face. Spending time with my mother hardly sounded like a vacation. “I think it is a great idea,” my father said, his spoon waving in the air.

“Leila, please come,” my mother urged. “Everyone will be so excited to see you. Especially Meena.”

As if that makes a difference. I had made up my mind years ago that I didn’t care for her, so why should I suddenly care that she would be excited to see me? The last thing I wanted was to be around someone who was arrogant and smug and proved to be better than me in every way possible. That sounded miserable. And I had enough misery to deal with without her help.

I pursed my lips together. “Can I think about it?” My parents looked at each other and finally nodded. But the truth was, even if I did somehow forget all the Meena comparisons over the years, the fact that she had now “beaten” me in the marriage race was just too much. There was nothing to think about. I wasn’t going.