He smiled kindly. “Can I get you something to eat, Dee-Dorothy?”
“No, thank you. We just had dinner.”
“Another time, then.”
He was only offering to take my order, not suggesting a future date. But my insides melted anyway, warm and golden, like a pat of butter.
“Definitely hitting on you,” Reeti said when Sam went back behind the counter. Out of earshot, I hoped.
I resisted the urge to crane around. “He’s just being nice. It’s part of his job. Like being a bartender.”
“He offered you food. That’s courtship feeding. Standard mating behavior.”
“You asked me to dinner, and you’re not hitting on me. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I added. “If you were, I mean.”
Hey, I was an ally. My sister, Toni, had been out and proud since she was a junior in high school. Em hadn’t said a word when the large pride flag appeared above Toni’s bed, but I’d worried my little sister would be bullied in school. But Toni’s faith in herselfswept through doubts and criticism. That year she’d worn a rainbow dress and an enormous smile to prom, the coolest of her friend group.
“You are not my type. I like men. So we can only be friends.” Reeti gave me another tooth-edged smile. “Alas.”
“Friends sounds great,” I said sincerely. I couldn’t believe it. I was out on a Tuesday night with someone my own age, someone young and fun and pretty who wanted to be friends with me.
She picked up her mug. Sniffed. “Also, my parents would be disappointed if I brought home anyone who wasn’t Sikh.”
“I get it. I’m from Kansas. My family can be pretty conservative, too.”
“My parents are very progressive, actually. Although my mother did freak out when I wanted to go away to school.”
I thought of Toni. “She was probably worried about your safety.”
“Oh yes. She keeps sending me links to articles about the dangers of women living alone.”
“That sounds...”
“Scary?”
“Caring,” I decided.
“Absolutely. My parents are very supportive. But protective. And they expect us to be who they want us to be. Sheena is a lawyer and Rajveer is to be a doctor and I am supposed to get my degree and work in my father’s restaurants.”
“You cook?”
“Only for my own family. But until I marry, I will work for him in the business office. It is a good job. Financial manager for the London region.” A small shrug. “It’s just not what I want to do.”
“Which is?”
“Teach English.”
“How do your parents feel about that?”
“We don’t discuss it. My mother is very good at shutting down things she doesn’t want to hear. And my father would listen and look at me and not say anything, which is worse.”
“I don’t understand. What’s so bad about being an English teacher?”
“My parents don’t object towhatI want to teach. It’swhereI want to teach that they don’t like. When I was in high school, my gurdwara did a camp at the big temple in Southall. There’s a huge Punjabi community there. I got to tutor other young girls my age, girls who didn’t have my opportunities.” Her eyes shone. “Empowering women. It’s been my dream ever since.”
“And your parents don’t approve?”
“They’re afraid.”
