“Mom, I don’t really think Naya wants to get married. She wants to see the world after law school. Maybe join the Peace Corps.” She planted the idea in her mother, hoping it would get back to Veena-kaki.

Her mother shrugged. “Well, you never know.”

“Where’s Papa?” Annika used her fingers to flip the rotli over to bake the other side.

“He should be home any minute. How is work?” Her mother’s bangles jiggled and clanked on the counter as she quickly and efficiently rolled out the flatbread.

Here was another point of contention, although with the boyfriend and pregnancy it had sort of fallen to the wayside. Annika had been pre-med in college and had the grades and MCAT scores to go to medical school. As the time loomed closer to apply to those schools, however, Annika had been filled with dread. What she wanted was to be a kindergarten teacher. Not a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer.

“Work is great, Mom. I love it,” she said automatically, almost in defiance of what she thought her mother was thinking. She placed the rotli directly on the gas, allowing it to puff up. The kitchen took on the comforting aroma of fresh bread, and Annika allowed herself to sink into it.

“Glad to hear it” came the automatic reply.

“Glad to hear what?” Her father was home. She turned to him. If there was any doubt what her brother would look like in thirty years, all one had to do was look at their father. Anil Mehta stood a few inches taller than his daughter, and a few shades darker. He had a full head of hair, though there was a good deal of salt in the pepper, and he still parted it on the side as he had all his life. He was handsome in that mild-mannered, Clark Kent kind of way, and his eyes still lit up when he saw his wife. Her mother offered her cheek and her father kissed it, smiling.

His smile faded slightly, taking on a shadow of firmness as he turned to Annika. She did her best to ignore it.

“Hi, Papa. Just telling Mom how much I love teaching.” She continued to cook the rotli as she spoke.

“That is good to know that your education is at least making you happy, even if it won’t buy you a future.”

Who said Indian men didn’t understand sarcasm?

“Have you thought about what we suggested?” He pierced her with his gaze. Nothing like getting right to it.

“I did. But I’m not ready to get married.”

They may not have actually set her up, but they certainly didn’t stop talking to her about it.

“No one is ever ‘ready’ to get married, beta.” Her father’s voice was calm, but already starting to show agitation.