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Drithi opened her mouth to say something, but Jay interrupted her, “The rest we will need to figure out.” He took his mother’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Again, I am asking for your patience.”

Drithi smiled, a little forced. Again, they were rescued by a waiter bringing the next course: matar paneer, butter chicken, and a dal. Neha took a roti and pulled a bite-sized chunk off. Not only was she glad for the distraction, the food actually was very good. None of it was fancy but prepared with attention to detail.

After a long silence, Drithi took something from her pocket and put it into Jay’s hand. “Do it,” she demanded.

There was a vintage ring lying in Jay’s hand. An intricate gold filigree adorned with five emeralds and a number of tiny diamonds. Neha gasped. Her dadi used to have one like this, only hers had been topaz.

Jay turned the ring in his fingers. “Mom…”

“Yes, I am sure,” Drithi confirmed.

“But I—” He looked at Neha. “We might not…”

“And that’s perfectly okay.” Drithi patted her son’s hand. “You are young and feel you are swimming in whitewater. But you don’t have to swim; you don’t have to find a way to work things out. Just trust.”

Jay moved his head and cranked it audibly. “Mom, I…”

Drithi smiled and held up her hand in an ancient gesture of reassurance. “Just trust I know.”

Slowly, Jay turned to Neha. “This was my grandmother’s ring. We have saved it to pass on to my wife.”

Neha felt the blood leaving her face. She became dizzy. “Jay, this is—”

“Please, Neha,” Jay begged. He locked eyes with her and mouthed once more, “Please.”

Jay took her hand and silently asked for permission. Neha closed her eyes. A wedding band was one thing, but a family heirloom? She looked at Drithi, who smiled benignly.

“I am sure, and so is everybody who is not blind to see it.”

“Still, I…”

“I ask you to wear the ring as long as you try to work out how you feel about my son. The ring will help you find out.”

Taking a deep breath, Neha nodded, and Jay slid the ring onto her finger.

Later that evening, when they drove back to Jay’s place, he apologized. “You have made my mother very happy by accepting that ring. I suppose I should have known she’d spring it on us, but I didn’t. It’s been a lifelong dream for her to pass that ring to the next generation.”

Neha twisted it on her finger. There were so many emotions coursing through her she didn’t know what to make of them. “But—”

“May I ask patience of you, too? I don’t have any answers. They’ll come.”

Neha didn’t like it, but something in Jay’s demeanor made her keep quiet. “Fine, but can we talk about Kevin, please?”

Jay sighed. “Please, don’t think poorly of him. He’s trying. Have you noticed how awkward he is with guests? He really is trying, but things don’t come easy to him.” Jay concentrated on taking a particularly tight turn. As soon as they were on a straight stretch of road, he continued. “He’s had a few run-ins with the law. DUI and other drug-related offenses. He’s been sober now for five years, but my mother finds it hard to forgive. He always has to do things twice as good to get noticed once.”

Neha hummed. That odd vibe Kevin gave off could be explained by having to fight the need to take drugs. “Are you really sure he’s sober?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Fine, then.” Neha looked out at the clear night sky. “But you really should talk him out of those sideburns.”

Jay laughed and promised, “Will do.”

When Jay got out of the car, he looked at the sky. “I don’t like this,” he said.

“What’s not to like?” Neha loved the stars. They never had as many in Atlanta.

“Something about the air. We’ll get snow.”