She let out a small laugh, then lifted a shoulder. “That obvious, huh?”
“No, it’s just…You’ve really never done this before?”
“Nope. Never. Have you?”
“This is my eighth meeting this month,” he said.
Her eyebrows rose. “Eighth?” She walked over to a pair of brown overstuffed chairs, sat down, and crossed her legs. “So, you’re an old pro, then,” she said, her voice light and airy. “You’ll have to tell me what usually happens next.”
He took the seat across from her. He could do that. By now, he could recite the normal agenda in his sleep. “We get about twenty minutes alone. Then our parents come by with some excuse to call usback. They have a few more minutes of small talk and then it’s time for my mother and I to leave.”
“But eight meetings in a month?” she asked. “That can’t be what people normally do. It sounds like a lot.”
“I don’t really know.” He didn’t have anything to measure it against. “How many do you have next month?”
“None. This is the first time my parents have ever asked me to meet anyone. They haven’t set up any others.” She scrunched up her nose. “At least, I don’t think they have. They haven’t mentioned any others.”
His curiosity was piqued. “Would you go on more, if they asked you to?”
“Maybe. I think so,” she said.
He frowned. None of this was adding up. Most of the other women he’d met had understood the process. Been invested. But Meghna…It was almost as if she’d shown up today just for the hell of it. To see what would happen.
He froze. Had she even agreed to this? Maybe her parents had just sprung it on her. He considered for a moment, then nodded. That was more likely. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would want, or need, her parents to set her up.
To confirm his new hypothesis, he asked, “Why would you say yes to any of this in the first place?”
“Why wouldyousay yes?” she parroted back.
“I have a good reason,” he said. “But if you wanted to get married, I wouldn’t think you’d need to…I mean, you seem like you have…like you could…”
“Are you saying I look like I date around a lot?”
Karthik’s cheeks warmed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, it’s fine.” She leaned back in her chair. “Suffice it to say whatever I’ve been doing hasn’t been working. And you don’t know me—maybe I’m incredibly traditional.”
He looked at her skeptically. She grinned.
“What? You don’t think I’m very traditional?” she asked.
“You could be,” he admitted. “But if you were, this wouldn’t be your first meeting. You’d have started years ago.”
“Wow. You’re calling me old now?”
What?A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. “No. Definitely not. That’s not what I said.”
Meghna crossed her arms. “It’s what you meant, though.”
He shook his head, but couldn’t figure out how to respond. Should he apologize? Yes. That was a good idea. He’d apologize and then he’d find a way to get back to his script. He could still salvage this. He could still—Was she smiling?
“You were joking,” he said carefully. Slowly. Just in case he was wrong.
“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “I’m just giving you a hard time. You’re right. I’m not super traditional. But you don’t seem that traditional, either. At least, your family can’t bethattraditional if they’re fine with the idea of you marrying someone who’s only half-Tamil.” She pointed at herself.
He shrugged. He knew that some of the more traditional families preferred, sometimes required, that their kids marry someone within their same ethnic group, but his mother had never placed much emphasis on that. And his father…Well, Karthik didn’t particularly care what his father thought.
“At this point I think my mother would be happy if I married anyone,” he said. “And if I was marrying someone Indian, that would just be a bonus.”
