“Jay Shree Krishna.”The automatic greeting of praise to God fell from her lips without thought.
“Jay Shree Krishna.” Her parents responded in unison. Her father glanced at her and went back to his chai. Her mother studied her.
“Where’s Nilay?”
“School. A friend drove him,” her mother answered. “How are you, beta?” Annika cringed at the caution in her mother’s voice.
“I’m okay, Mom. Don’t worry, I’m not going to crumble.”
Her mother smiled. “Well, I should hope not. I raised my daughter to be strong.”
“So, then, why are you so afraid to say anything?”
“We don’t want you to yell at us,” her father stated simply.
“I do not yell at—” She stopped because she was yelling. “Oh. Sorry about that,” she finished, sheepishly. “I smell coffee.”
Her mother brightened. “We made you some.” She pointed at a brand-new coffeepot in the corner, filled with the life-giving liquid that Annika craved. She poured herself a mug and found her favorite creamer stocked in the fridge.Jay Shree Krishna,indeed.
She sat down with her parents and took that first, life-changing sip of coffee. Amazing. She sensed them watching her, but she said nothing. Her father spoke first.
“I’m glad you came home.” He rested his hand on hers. “It’s been too long that we saw you wake up in this house.”
Her heart swelled. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until he said it. She squeezed his hand and smiled. “It really has.”
Her father stood, taking his empty mug to the sink. “I must get to work.” He kissed the top of her forehead, then her mother’s cheek, before exiting the kitchen. He turned back as he left. “Annika, my car is in the shop, so I’m taking Mom’s car to work. Tonight we both have meetings. Mom will drop me off. Do you mind picking me up from mine?”
Annika shrugged. “Sure. Text me the address.”
Her father beamed, a little too happy about getting a ride from her. Whatever. Maybe she had been a bit extra difficult lately. “Great. See you then.”
He left her alone with her mother. Her mother smiled at her and stood. “Toast?”
“Yeah.” Annika stood as well, heading for the fridge. “Got any avocado?”
“Of course. In fact, I’ll join you.”
Her mother grabbed an avocado and began cutting it in silence. Annika put two pieces of bread in the toaster oven, then grabbed a lime and the salt. She waited for her mother to say something about her meeting up with Sajan.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you and Daniel.” Her mother looked up from the avocado.
“What?” Annika didn’t have a moment to even hide her astonishment.
“Well, it was clear how you felt about each other—”
“But you and Papa—I thought you didn’t approve.”
Her mother shrugged. “We didn’t. Not at first.” She sighed as she scooped the avocado into the bowl. She put down the spoon. “We were wrong, beta. But we didn’t realize how wrong we were until that day in the hospital.”
Her heart was in her throat; she couldn’t speak. She truly loved Daniel and was certain that kind of love would not come for her again. Tears sprang to her eyes. Ugh. She was done crying.
“I really miss him.”
Her mother shook her head and drew Annika into her arms. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“And those aunties. At that party. What they said—it was so horrible.”
“They are ashamed—I know this for a fact, because I told them off myself.”
