6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Mira
E verything was moving too fast. In fact, it had been for the past three years, ever since Asha was diagnosed with her heart condition—but now it was completely out of control.
A doctor had come by to take a DNA sample from Pari in the afternoon. Beau was talking about nannies and daycare for Pari. He'd also mentioned that he wanted Pari to speak to a child psychologist, which got my back up, but I kept my mouth shut. Pari was, after all, Beau's daughter, and it was his right and responsibility to make sure she was emotionally and physically healthy. But it felt like a slap to the face.
"How about the flower dress?" I suggested to Pari as I showed her the bright dress with red and yellow flowers.
The fabric pattern was Indian, which was why I'd bought it at Marshall's on sale for five dollars. My clothes were old and falling apart, but I made sure Pari was always sharply dressed. It wasn't her fault that I was inept and couldn't find a way to take care of her and keep a job or keep Asha's money to raise her. I wanted Pari to look like she belonged to someone capable, someone who could give her the life she deserved. Not like me. Never like me .
I knelt in front of her, gently brushing her hair back from her face. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and I couldn't grasp how I'd been trusted with her for this long. Every time I looked at her, the fear crept in, gripping me from the inside. How could I ever be enough for her?
My parents had drilled that into me early on—reminded me, over and over again, how I'd never live up to their expectations, how I was always a disappointment. Asha had tried to protect me, but she'd had her own problems, her own struggles. We both bore the burden of our childhood years.
It wasn't just my parents' voices that I heard in my head; it was my own as well, telling me I was useless, broken, and unworthy.
Now, living in Beau's house with its grand rooms and expensive everything, I felt it all over again. The same suffocating feeling of inadequacy, like I was right back in my parents' home, being reminded that I belonged there for as long as I was useful, and after that, I'd be thrown out like the trash I was.
Pari looked up at me, her eyes wide and shining with innocence, and I wanted to cry. She trusted me. She loved me. And I was going to lose her—I could feel it in my bones. Beau was her father. No matter what I'd done, no matter how hard I'd tried, I couldn't compete with him. I couldn't fight for her—not when I knew, deep down, I'd never be able to give her what he could. Not when all I had to offer were desperation and things pulled from bargain bins.
I swallowed hard and forced a smile. "You are so beautiful, my Shona ."
Pari smiled up at me as I fumbled with the zipper on her dress, my hands trembling. I tried to steady them, but the truth gnawed at me—relentless, unforgiving. Beau had already mapped out her future: nannies, daycare, psychologists, the whole perfect picture. And me? What did I have to offer her, beyond love? But we both knew love couldn't fill an empty stomach or keep you warm through the night.
How could I fight for her when I couldn't even fight for myself?
I stood up, watching as Pari twirled in the blue dress, completely unaware of the storm inside me. She laughed, and for a moment, the sound lifted me. I let it. I would live in the moment, and right now, everything was good. Soon, Beau's family would come—his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his sister—they'd probably also feel as Beau did; Pari was his , theirs , not mine . I knew this could happen. That didn't make it any easier, so I repeated what I had been mentally chanting ever since I'd decided to reach out to Beau: " If the choice is between Beau and Mr. and Mrs. Sen—there really isn't a choice, Mira ."
The superfluousness of my presence became even more apparent during dinner, which I found overwhelming. The kind that makes you wish you could disappear into the wallpaper, which, in this case, was an elegant pale blue, and probably cost more than everything I owned.
Roxy had made some kind of fancy roast with sides that looked incredible, but I barely touched my plate. I could feel their eyes on me—Beau's family. Watching. Waiting. Hoping, maybe, for me to misstep.
I knew the feeling. How often had I sat at the dinner table with my parents and their friends and our relatives, afraid to do anything to make my mother angry? Or worse, embarrass my father.
Beau was too caught up with Pari to notice how his family watched me, their eyes sharp and unrelenting, like hawks circling prey. He was focused on making sure she had enough mashed potatoes, carefully cutting up her food into bite-sized pieces. Pari was beaming, thrilled with all the attention. And Beau... he was sweet with her—more thoughtful than I'd ever expected. It stung, a deep, aching kind of pain because I knew this was what she needed. Not me. Him.
Again, I wondered why Asha hadn't told him about Pari. All of this would have been so much easier—and my heart wouldn't be as broken as it was right now. I was losing my only family, and I'd brought this upon myself by driving to Savannah from Atlanta with just enough money to feed Pari and pay for gas.
"Beau said you worked in a diner," Katya said, her voice dripping with casual curiosity, but her eyes flicked to Donna, who raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her wine.
I was not embarrassed by the work I did. I was a damned good cook. In fact, if Asha had not fallen ill, I'd probably be a sous chef at a fancy restaurant, having completed my education at the prestigious Culinary Institute of America. But then Katya was a doctor and her husband a teacher. These people had mile-long degrees, while I had only finished high school. "Yeah, I worked as a cook."
"A cook?" Trevor chimed in, his tone light, but there was an edge to it. "So, what's the plan, then? You going to be cooking here for Beau now?"
My stomach churned but I forced a small smile. "No, I don't think so. Beau has Roxy for that."
"Right, of course." Donna set her glass down a little too hard on the table. "But you're not…planning to stay long, are you? I mean, I'm sure you have other arrangements in mind once everything settles down."
"After all, you've put your life on hold for Pari, haven't you?" Katya added.
I didn't know what to say. I had no idea what the plan was or what was happening from one day to the next.
But the way Donna and Katya said it made it clear they expected me to have an answer—expected me to already be on my way out.
Had it only been a little over twenty-four hours since I came to Beau? Why was his family behaving like I'd overstayed my welcome?
"I'm here for Pari as long as she needs me," I said, my voice quieter than I'd meant it to be.
Donna smirked, dabbing her mouth with a napkin like she was covering up a snicker. "Well, she's in good hands now." The unsaid words were evident, " So, you can pack up and leave. And don't let the door hit you on the way out. "
Beau chuckled at something Pari said, utterly oblivious to the daggers being thrown my way. I glanced over at him, but he didn't look up.
The knot inside me pulled even tighter.
Trevor leaned back in his chair, the casual authority of a schoolteacher seeping through his tone. "Beau mentioned you gave up a placement at the CIA. Maybe you can go back?"
"What qualifications do you need to get into CIA?" Donna mused.
"Well," I said, thinking back, "you usually need some solid experience in the kitchen—restaurant work, catering, something hands-on. A passion for food helps, of course. They'll also want to see some formal education, maybe a high school diploma or equivalent. And be prepared for a lot of hard work once you're in."
Nova chuckled. "So basically, you need to live and breathe food?"
"Pretty much." I offered her a grateful smile, relieved that she'd spoken up—of all Beau's family, she was the only one who didn't seem to hate me on sight. "And maybe a little masochism for good measure."
"So, is that all you have, a high school diploma?" Donna wanted to know.
I froze, feeling the heat rise to my face. "Yes."
"How come?" Donna probed. "Beau told us that your sister had an MBA and that your father is a lawyer. How come you didn't get past high school?"
The Indian community was obsessed with education and rigid about traditional career paths. Mine had always been considered low-level, too blue-collar—work for people who weren't smart enough to do better. Donna was saying something similar now, and it shouldn't have bothered me. I'd heard it all before, in Atlanta, from my parents, from others. But it did. I'd wanted to make a good impression on Beau's family. Maybe I could explain it to them, I thought. Maybe they'd understand.
"I…I had to take care of my sister. She was sick, and then Pari came along, so…" I trailed off, not sure how to explain what my life had turned into after Asha's diagnosis.
"Oh," Donna said, her voice soft but her eyes sharp. "That's unfortunate. I'm sure you had plans."
"Family comes first."
"Of course," Katya said with a kind smile, and I wondered if she was thinking I was some kind of freeloader, first taking from my sister and now Beau.
Beau laughed again as Pari giggled with abandon. I smiled because how could you not when my Shona was happy?
"She's wonderful." Nova was speaking about Pari, but she was looking at me. "I think what you've done with her and your sister is remarkable, Mira."
"Oh, absolutely," Trevor agreed. "We're very grateful that you took care of Pari."
"What I don't understand is why you didn't tell Beau about his daughter until now?" Donna demanded.
I looked toward Beau, hoping he'd help out, but he was immersed in his daughter and not paying much attention to the conversation taking place around him. I got that. When I was with Pari, I pretty much ignored my surroundings as well, wanting to give her all my focus. Still, didn't he see he'd thrown me into a river of piranhas?
"Mama, you know why?" Trevor interjected. "Beau mentioned that Asha had told her he gave up his parental rights."
I gave him a grateful half-smile.
"Why would your sister do that? That was a cruel thing to do," Donna snapped.
I felt smaller and smaller with every word. My chair felt too big, like I was sinking into it.
"My sister is dead, Mrs. Bodine." I set my napkin down and stood up, knowing I had to leave or I'd either start screaming or crying. "I can't ask her why she did what she did. She must've had her reasons. The truth is that I don't know Beau very well and neither did Asha."
"Then why are you still here? You could leave your niece and go?" Donna threw daggers at me. "You could—"
"Donna," Katya warned, "Us not knowing about Pari is not Mira's fault."
"She shows up now when she needs money," Donna hissed. "Not before, when she—"
"This is not about money." I interrupted her, feeling tears prick my eyes. "Beau, this is not about money. You understand that, don't you?"
At his name, Beau looked at me bewildered. "What's not about money?"
"Me coming here."
He frowned. "I don't understand."
"I came here wanting your help fighting for custody," I said desperately. Did they all think I was some kind of gold digger here to sell my niece for some money?
"And lawyers cost money," Donna pointed out.
"Mama," Beau's warning was more forceful than his brother's. "What the hell is goin' on here?"
"Bodaddy," Pari squealed as she held up a fork full of mashed potatoes. "I done it."
"You did, darlin'." Beau kissed his daughter's forehead, and I knew I'd lost her. What had I done bringing her here? These people were not like Beau. His family was like mine. Cruel. Judgmental.
But Beau…he was good, right? And they were only angry with me because I kept them away from Pari.
You were going to lose her anyway, either to Anil and Seema Sen or Beau. This is better. They all love her. They don't like you much. But they love her. This is the right thing to do for Pari, so pull up your big girl panties and stop whining.
"We were just sayin' that Mira only told you about Pari because she needs something," Donna accused.
"Mama, cut it out." Beau kept his voice level so Pari wouldn't think he was angry, but I could hear the edge in his tone. "Mira, I know why you're here, darlin', and I'm grateful that you're here. Pari is lucky, very lucky to have you as an aunt."
"Absolutely," Trevor added. "Mira, Pari is healthy and happy, and that's because of you."
"Why don't you sit down and finish dinner?" Nova suggested softly.
"Please, darlin'," Beau insisted.
I sat back down.
I had expected Beau to be difficult, but not his family. I hadn't expected them to look at me with such suspicion like I'd done them wrong.
Katya and Trevor smoothly changed the topic. I remained silent, pushing the food around on my plate. I knew I didn't belong here. This world of wealth and ease, of seamless transitions from one privilege to another—it wasn't mine. I wasn't polished like Katya or effortlessly elegant (or mean) like Donna. I was just…me. The girl who grew up in a house where the walls echoed with anger, abuse, and disappointment. The girl who learned early on that love was conditional and that no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough.
The truth was, I didn't know how to fight for Pari. I didn't know how to stand up to these people who had everything I didn't—stability, money, family, power. All I had was love for a little girl who wasn't even really mine. And that love was starting to feel like it wasn't enough.
I caught Beau's eye for a brief second, and he smiled reassuringly before he turned back to Pari, who was telling him about the flowers she saw in the garden. He had no idea how hard it was for me to sit here, feeling like I was on trial, knowing that, in their eyes, I was nothing more than an outsider. An interloper.
And maybe they were right.
I felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter, the sense of dread settling in deeper. They were all waiting for me to leave—expecting it, even. And part of me was starting to believe that maybe that was what I should do.
After all, I wasn't good enough. I'd never been good enough.
I was grateful when Pari started to get restless.
"I'll take her for her bath," I pleaded so Beau would know I wanted to get out of here. I needed to escape. To breathe. To remind myself that, even if I wasn't good enough for this world, I'd done my best for Pari. And that had to count for something, even if it didn't feel like it right now.
"Thanks, Mira." Beau helped lift Pari out of her highchair, a wooden one that had shown up before lunch and was much better than the plastic one I'd had to leave behind at Asha's place. Everything Beau would give Pari would be better —he had the money, and he already loved his daughter. What could I give her?
For now, why don't you bathe her, Mira, and get some sleep? As Scarlett said in Gone With the Wind , "After all, tomorrow is another day."
I carried Pari out of the dining room after she said goodnight to everyone at the table. As I walked away with her, I could clearly hear Donna.
"There's something wrong here, Beau. That girl is out to get something out of you. I can just see it."
I waited in the hallway, holding Pari, waiting to hear Beau's response.
"She's twenty-two, Mama, a kid. Okay? So, she needs money, who doesn't? I have plenty."
My heart sank. Did he really think that about me?'
"Well, make sure you keep it within reason. Maybe a few hundred thousand to get rid of her, you know? So, she won't come and make a fuss because of her sister's will," Donna continued.
I hugged Pari close, tears streaming down my face.
"Mama, have you ever known me to get swindled?" Beau demanded. "That little girl couldn't manipulate me if she tried."
Which little girl, Beau? I haven't been a little girl since…actually, I've never been one of those.
I took Pari to the room we were sharing, and filled the bathtub while I busied myself with taking off her clothes. I let her distract me from my heartbreak. She was here now, my beautiful Shona , the daughter of my heart—and I'd soak up every minute with her to make up for the long, lonely years ahead.