Omkar felt guilty for lying to his parents. He could not tell them the complete truth about Aria’s past. They would not understand it. They were too conservative to accept the idea that he intended to marry a woman who had a drug addict for a mother and who never knew her father, any more than they could accept that she had dropped out of school or was currently living on the streets. He would have to talk Aria into upholding the lie as well.
“Is her uncle looking for her?” Neeraj said, wanting to steer clear of involvement in a potentially dangerous situation.
“No … he said that if she wouldn’t sleep with him, he doesn’t care if she lives or dies.” Omkar felt himself winding them deeper and deeper into the lie he was telling to corrode their resistance to Aria.
Much as she might not want to admit it, Jarminder could feel some empathy toward Aria. She wiped tears away from her eyes with the tissue. “Well, one thing would be good … I wouldn’t have to share my grandkids on holidays.”
The three of them started laughing. “I’m not saying that I’m happy about it yet. You can’t expect that from me,” she said.
“Does this mean you are OK with it?” Omkar asked, knowing his life was flailing on the hook of her next statement.
“I’m saying we’ll live with it, Omkar. We want you to be happy. But don’t you dare ever, ever do that again!” she said, referring to Omkar’s disappearance.
Omkar rushed in to hug her. Her consent spoke for both his parents. It was more leniency than he had imagined either of them to be capable of.
In truth, in the hours of torment since Omkar and Aria drove off, they had already had it brought back to them with explosive force what it felt like to lose their children. When you lose a child, you never ever forget, but it’s something that over time can sleep in your mind because of the pressures of day-to-day life. Omkar’s absence had reminded them that as long as he was alive and happy, it didn’t matter what school he graduated from or even whether he graduated at all. It didn’t matter if he got a good job or didn’t. It didn’t matter if he married the sort of girl they wanted him to marry or even if he got married at all. Faced with the threat of losing Omkar from their lives, they realized that when you love your child, everything that you think matters no longer matters in comparison to having them be a part of your life.
Omkar went to the kitchen to do the dishes that were layered in the sink. Neeraj and Jarminder followed him. “What are you working on at school?” Jarminder asked him, still sniffling the remnants of their conflict away from the surface of her expression.
“I’m taking a physics course that’s really challenging. But I’m also taking a class on wave propagation in solids, and so far I really like it. Did you know that when an earthquake happens, the earth’s crust ruptures and it creates elastic waves in the earth? So essentially an earthquake is a wave.”
Omkar’s enthusiasm was met with protest. “Don’t talk to me about earthquakes, Omkar. I’ve had enough for one day.”
The soapsuds began to make Omkar’s hand itch so he turned off the water and scratched the top of his hand. Jarminder noticed him scratching. It was a good omen. “Ah … look, you’re going to receive good luck,” she said.
Omkar rolled his eyes and went back to washing. Superstitious as she was, it gave her comfort. She imagined it was God giving her the message that maybe her son was right in choosing Aria. “Omkar, why don’t you bring her for dinner tonight so we can meet her the right way? I am making sarhon dā sâg. Do you think she would like it?”
It had never occurred to Jarminder until this minute that she might be cooking one day for a daughter-in-law whose tastes differed from their own. She felt the very real fear that if Aria disliked her cooking, she might not have any other grounds for a relationship with her.
“Yes, Mama, I think she would like that very much,” Omkar replied, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder.
“You’re not going to let this get in the way of your studies?” The question was more of an order she barked at him.
“No, Mama. I promise,” he said.
When Omkar hugged them both to say goodbye after settling on a time to come back that night with Aria, he walked down the stairs light with excitement and heavy with maturity. Omkar felt like a man. Aria had a way of calling those dormant qualities out in him. He felt like he was taking his place in the world of men. Aria had been like an angel who had come to awaken him to himself.
As he got into the car to drive toward her, he remembered an old Punjabi saying. “If a man expects his wife to be an angel in his life, then he should first create heaven for her.” He finally understood that saying. It was now exactly what he planned to do.
CHAPTER 30
When Omkar and Aria opened the door of the Super Sun Market, the air was heavy with the smell of onion and ginger. Omkar’s mother was crouching in the kitchen, using the floor as a counter. She was making makki ki rotis while a curry of mustard greens sweltered on the stovetop.
“Hello, Mama,” Omkar said, placing a pile of mint that they
