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Becauseit hadn't been a shitty enough weekend,Paris, a family friend of ours, tagged along with my maternal grandmother, a.k.a.Nani.Astern woman by nature,ZainaMittaldripped of class and old money.Shemade peace withMommarrying a new money ex-celebrityDJbecause it would have been difficult for a widowed single mother to remarry.However, she'd never allow the repeat of such blasphemy and appointed herself my matchmaker the momentIturned eighteen.Apreemptive measure soIwouldn't have the opportunity to meet the wrong man.
“Didn’tItell you to stop settingPoppyup?”Momsat across from me, andZanejoined her within seconds.WhereMomwas, so was the bane of my existence.
Naniwaved a dismissive hand. “I’mnot setting her up.I’mgiving her the opportunity to meet a suitable man.”
Momtilted her head as if searching for someone. “Whatsuitable man?Theonly person you brought along wasParis.Idon’t know how that garbage person keeps getting inside, but tonight is aboutRose.Getthat trash out of my house.”
IeyedZaneas they fought, leaning across so only he could hear my whisper. “YouheardMom.Getout.”
Zanenarrowed his eyes whileNanisaid indignantly, “Excuseme, young lady.Parisis a catch.Anyonewould be lucky to have him.”
“Parisis closer to my age thanPoppy’s.He’swhat, thirty?Thirty-two?”
“Thirtyis the new twenty.”
“Theonly person who’d say that is a thirty-year-old,”Momretorted.
Zanesmirked around his forkful of pasta. “Goodone,Princess.”
Nanicast him a distasteful glance. “Atleast, he’s a better choice than marrying someone off the streets.”
“Greatto see you, too,Mom,”Zanesardonically drawled, fully aware of how much being related to him pissed off my grandmother.
Naniglared him down in response.
“Myhusband is a celebrated musician who built a reputable empire with hard work,”Momdefended, her anger rising. “Parisis an entitled prick who has earned neither his reputation nor his status.”
Mygrandmother scoffed. “That’sridiculous.Whatgood is status and reputation if it’s earned?Itshould be passed down by generation.”
Laughterbubbled in my chest, though it wasZanewho broke the tension first with it.
Meanwhile,Mom’shead threatened to explode. “W-Wha… that’s so ridiculous.Doyou hear yourself?”Shetook a deep breath, deciding it was a pointless argument. “Youknow what?Idon’t care about your archaic beliefs.Juststop trying to brainwash my daughter.Poppy, don’t listen to your nani.Shehasn’t taken her crazy pills today.”Mompointed an index finger at her temple and twirled it.
NaniignoredMom’sjab, adamant about having the last word. “Youonce told me to stop interfering in your life.Maybeyou should take your own advice and letPoppydecide if she wants to talk toParis.”
Atthat,Mompursed her lips.
Meanwhile, my grandmother fussed over the hem of my long-sleeved black dress. “Iwish you’d wear more colorful dresses,Poppy.Thisis so morbid.”
“Poppylooks good in black,”Mommuttered sulkily.
Mygrandmother examined my hair that was pulled into two low braids.Milan,Mom’sbrother andZainaMittal’sfavorite offspring, disrupted the attempt to pull out the plaits.
“Poppy.WhereisPoppy?”AhystericMilanstrolled into the dining room with his two-year-old son,Neil, tucked under his arm.
Mygrandmother lit up. “Milan, you made it.Ididn’t think you were coming.”
Myuncle walked pastNani, moving toward me with purpose. “I’vebeen looking everywhere for you.”
“Hi,Uncle.”Robotically,Iheld my hands out forNeil.Therewas only one reason my uncle sought me out.Hiswife,Dahlia, was indisposed, and he was unwilling to take care ofNeilfor a few hours.
Milan’seldest was fifteen, which made two-year-oldNeilan accident.Hehad presumed the phase of caring for a baby was over, and he could return to his two former great loves: designer brands and himself.Myuncle had never met a reflective surface he didn’t like.Self-image preservation clashed with taking care of a two-year-old, andNeilwas fussing in the haphazard one-handed hold, slung sloppily against his father’s hips.
Milanunceremoniously dumpedNeilonto my lap. “Hereyou go.Thatchild only stops crying when you hold him.”
Ibounced my legs a little, and my cousin stopped whining on cue.Neilstared at me with wide eyes, clasping onto the ribbon of the black choker around my neck and almost strangling me in the process.Icoughed a little and pried his chubby fingers off the necklace. “Niceto see you, too, cuz.”
“I’mexhausted,”Milanwheezed. “Ihave been taking care of that baby sinceIgot here.”
