“Yeah. I was going to tell you and Zack later tonight that I got a job at Starbucks. Since I’ll finally be making money again, I can afford to get my own place somewhere else. Probably somewhere shitty, but whatever.” Natasha pauses then adds, “I’m trying. I really am. It’s been hard to get so many rejections and not have anything to show for what I’m doing, but I do want to stand on my own.”

“By serving coffee?” Bina jumps in. “Is that what you consider a valuable use of your time?” Natasha has to be kidding. First the videos and now this? Is this what she and Deepak came to America for?

“Mom,” Natasha stretches out the word so it sounds like “Moooooom.” “Where did you even come from? And, no, I don’t think any job is beneath me, but of course I should have expected you to have an opinion about it.”

Bina feels a flash of worry, followed by anger. “I think as your mother, I have the right to weigh in on your choices. My mother wouldn’t have let me out of the ho—”

“UGH, you just don’t get it!” Natasha yells. “I don’t want to be like you, Mom. I want to do big things with my life, okay? How come you’re so okay pushing Suhani to work and work and Anuj to take his time to figure out what he wants, but with me, all you do is put me down?”

“Oh, I see,” Bina says. “You can talk about me putting you down while you talk about all of us on videos? Public videos?”

Natasha’s silent. If it wasn’t for the whir of the coffee machine and staccato of people’s footsteps, Bina would think they got disconnected.

“What are you talking about?”

Suhani whispers, “Let’s stay calm so she hears us,” but Bina ignores her. “Mira showed me your recordings or whatever they’re called. You think this is comedy? Making fun of your family? What is wrong with you? What are you even doing with your life?”

“Mira Auntie showed you that? How?” Natasha’s voice is softer than before.

“Does it matter?” Bina challenges. “You humiliated all of us. How dare you?!”

“I wasn’t trying to humiliate anyone! I was creating material for my comedy. Obviously it’s exaggerated and embellished. But it’s helped me process things . . . about my life. About us.”

“Wait,” Bina says. “You think this is somehow helping you? Are you being serious, Natasha?”

Before Bina can say anything else, she hears the telltale click indicating that Natasha has hung up.

Sixteen

Natasha

Fuck.

The word replays in Natasha’s head until it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Mom’s words on the phone come back to her. You humiliated all of us. How dare you?!