“Right,” he says, and his voice rings just as untrue and false as mine.
“How are your parents?” I ask, trying to regain a sense of normalcy. Though Nikhil never really knew my family, I’d gotten to know his. His mother, like my parents, had immigrated to the United States from India. She’d initially moved here for college, and she’d met Nikhil’s father, a white, outdoorsy midwesterner. They were nice, or nice enough. I didn’t get to know them that well.
His parents had finally settled down in one place once Nikhil was in his junior year of high school. His mother had gotten atenure-track position after years of hopping around to different colleges across the country, but even though they lived in the same city, Nikhil and I hadn’t seen them that often, except for the occasional birthday or holiday.
We’d driven by campus once, back in the early days of dating, and Nikhil hadn’t said anything until later that night, when his head had rested on the pillow beside mine, my fingers running through his hair.
“I dropped out of college, you know?”
I’d turned on my side, watching him. His face had been uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched in a way I’d never seen.
“Yeah?” I’d said carefully.
“Yeah,” he’d replied. “It just wasn’t for me, you know? But my parents…my mother…she wasn’t too happy about it.”
“Why?” I’d asked, but he’d fidgeted, barely meeting my gaze.
“Does it bother you?” he’d asked, changing the topic. “That I dropped out?”
“No,” I’d said, a bit puzzled. “Why would it?” I’d known what Nikhil did for work. I’d met himwhilehe was at work. I’d kind of assumed some of this already. But his question…It almost felt like he was asking something else. Something I couldn’t quite figure out.
His brow had furrowed, and I’d pulled my fingers from his hair, running them over that spot instead, trying to undo the tension. And when that hadn’t worked, I’d pressed my lips there, kissing his forehead.
He never answered my question. Never talked much more about school or his family after that, but as I’d lain next to him, holding him to me, his body had begun to relax. Like he’d realized that I’d meant what I’d said.
“My parents? They’re good,” he says, short and to the point. “And yours?”
“Mine are fine. They’re happier since they moved up north. I think they miss certain things about living here—the weather and H-E-B, of course—but they’re closer to family and it’s easier for me to visit them now too.”
“And your sister? And Ritu? How are they?”
“They’re close by too, both in Jersey. But Ritu’s actually planning on being even closer after graduation. She’s looking for jobs near D.C., so I’ll get to see her more often. If it all works out.”
He stares at me a moment. “Ritu’s graduating?” he finally says. “From college?”
I laugh at the surprise etched across his face. “I know! I can hardly believe it myself.” In my mind, my niece is still the little baby I’d met all those years ago.
He shakes his head, and the candlelight flickers, showcasing his cheekbones, the shadows along his jaw. “That’s wild. I think the last time I saw her…saw a picture of her, she would have been fourteen? Maybe fifteen?”
“Yeah, she was just starting high school.” Ritu had been so nervous back then. She’d called all the time, asking questions abouthow many AP classes she needed to take, what extracurriculars she should be involved with, and always wondering when I’d make my next visit. The two of us had always been close, the twelve-year age gap erasing some of the distance, making her feel more like a younger sister than a niece, but we weren’t so close that I could tell her the truth back then. That the real reason I was staying in Texas longer than planned was that I’d failed the bar. That I was married. That I had no clue what I was doing with my life anymore.
“She’s changed a lot since then,” I say, thinking of the artsy, creative twenty-one-year-old she is now. “I don’t know if she’ll like living in D.C., and I don’t think she knows what she wants to do yet,but she’s got time. I keep telling her there’s no rush, that she doesn’t have to have it all figured out yet.”
Nikhil snorts, though he attempts to school his features when I glance up at him.
“What?” I ask, unsure what he’s finding so funny.
“Nothing.” He picks his fork back up, rooting around the pasta on his plate, but he’s barely hiding a smile. His teeth glint in the candlelight, completely giving him away.
“What?” I ask again.
He shakes his head. “Are you telling meyoudidn’t have it all figured out at twenty-one?”
“Well, that was different,” I say, my voice sharp and defensive.
“Why?”
“Because it was. Ihadto.” I’d formulated my life plan much younger than twenty-one. I’d actually already started law school at twenty-one, but it wasn’t because I’dwantedto. I’d needed a path. A sure thing. Something that would tell my parents that I’d be fine. That they didn’t need to worry about me. That I wouldn’t turn out like…well, like my sister.
