November 6
Yellowstone County, Montana
“That’s it! I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m just…That’s the last straw. I’m done.”
A flood of responses came through the speakers of her laptop, all three of them talking at once, defending him like they always did.
Jasmintha wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, she really did, but she’d been listening to these excuses for months now.
She knew he was busy. He was always busy.
Not seeing him was something she had gotten used to over time, but ever since she and her dad emigrated from South Africa to the States six months ago, she never got to see him anymore.
Never! Were it not for the picture of him she kept in her purse, she would forget what he looked like.
Her twin cousins and best friend were constantly trying to justify his actions, but Jasmintha had reached the point where enough was enough.
She walked across the small room and sat down in front of the laptop, staring at the wary faces of her cousins, Prenisha and Pratiksha, and her friend, Rachel.
On the screen, she could see sunshine streaming through her cousin’s bedroom window.
It was the beginning of summer in South Africa and the swimsuits they were wearing showed they were going to have fun today—a braai by the pool.
Wait. She was an American now. A barbeque by the pool.
Or was it a cookout? She was still getting used to the phrases.
The thought made her miss home, miss them, because at least when she was around them, she could force herself to not feel the absence of her father.
“It’s not like I regret moving here,” Jasmintha explained.
“Once I start my new job next year, it’s gonna change my life.
I was so excited, not just because of the job, but also because…
I thought when we moved here, things would change and he would spend more time with me.
But now he’s still in Chicago, sorting out some crisis with his new hotel.
He says he won’t be able to get here before Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve! What the hell am I supposed to do here for over a month? ”
Prenisha was the first to pipe up. “You could go sightseeing. I’ve heard Montana is beautiful.”
“You heard that in My Sister’s Keeper,” Pratiksha added in. “You don’t know for sure.”
“It is beautiful,” Jasmintha agreed, “but one thing that movie doesn’t tell you is that it’s freezing here. If I spit, it will be frozen by the time it hits the ground.”
The twins’ brother, Jitesh, burst into their bedroom just then, still talking to someone who remained outside the door. “Ne, guzzi. Blom a bit. When my cherry gets here, we’ll vy to Marlon’s pozzy.”
South Africa had eleven official languages and that wasn’t one of them.
However, if you asked almost any Indian who lived there, they would agree that that was English.
Her tutors had always taught her to speak like a lady—well, as close to a lady as she could be—so Jasmintha had never really learned the slang, but she knew enough to decipher what he’d said.
No, my friend. Wait for a few minutes. When my girlfriend gets here, we’ll go to Marlon’s house.
There. That was easy enough. And people said she couldn’t fit in.
“Can’t you knock?” Prenisha snapped at him. “We’re on a video chat with Mini.”
They’d given Jasmintha the nickname Mini, not only because it was sort of the middle of her name, but also because she was tiny. She liked it, because the nickname made her feel like she was part of the crew.
Jitesh leaned over between both his sisters and smiled at her. “What kind, stekkie?”
She was pretty sure that meant: What’s up…girl. But it may be open to interpretation.
“How’s it going over there?”
“Fine, good,” she replied.
“Any ous hassling you? ’Cause you know I’ll fly over there and fuck dem up.”
Jasmintha laughed at the ridiculousness of the question. She’d never had a boyfriend and Jitesh’s overprotectiveness was probably twenty percent of the reason why. The other eighty percent was because she simply wasn’t dating material.
She still chose to play along, though. “Pffft! Guzzi, I’ve got boys lining up around the corner for me here. The ous can’t get enough of me.” The slang felt uncomfortable on her tongue, but she loved the way his face scrunched up every time she tried to use it.
“I’ve got one word for you. Playa!” He gave her one last smile and then turned back to his sister. “Lend me the cab.”
Prenisha rolled her eyes as she reached into her purse to grab her car keys. “And don’t drive like a maniac.”
“Shot,” was the last thing he said before he left the room.
“Your brother is so cute,” Rachel commented once he closed the door.
“Eww! Rachel, you have no taste in men,” Prenisha responded with a look of total disgust.
“So how cold is it there?” Pratiksha asked, resuming their previous conversation, because she too did not want to indulge Rachel’s revolting attraction to their brother.
Jasmintha checked her phone. “My app’s saying it’s thirty-nine point two degrees.”
“That’s hot,” Rachel said.
“It’s Fahrenheit, Rach,” Jasmintha clarified. “Convert it to Celsius. Subtract thirty-two and divide by one point eight.” She took a second and did the math in her head. “That’s four degrees.”
“Shit, that’s cold.”
“Exactly. And I’m not gonna sit around and freeze to death until Christmas Eve.”
A very worried Prenisha leaned forward until her face was covering most of the screen. “What are you planning on doing?”
“I’m going to Atlanta.”
There was a roar of protests from all three of them. She was expecting that. She hadn’t done one thing on her own in her entire life and now she was planning on going across a country she didn’t know to meet a woman she’d never met. Her mother.
It was a complicated story. Her father had lived in America for years.
He’d made a success of himself by starting a business called South Star.
The company owned multiple hotels and resorts across the States, one of which she was staying at right now.
Though, because of the location, this one could be described as a glorified guesthouse.
He’d started from nothing and slowly built himself up, but she sort of messed up all his plans.
She was only four-years old when he packed up all their belongings and moved to Johannesburg.
His business still demanded his attention, so there were weeks, even months, when he’d been away from home, leaving her to be raised by a string of nannies.
It wasn’t too bad when she was a little girl, but as she grew so did the distance between them.
It was a lonely childhood. He’d kept her safely tucked away from the world.
She’d been home-schooled. She never had any friends.
It was only after months of begging that she’d convinced him to send her to a normal school and even then, he’d insisted she attend the same school as her cousins so they could keep an eye on her.
It lasted two years, grade nine and ten, and then he pulled her out again.
At least in that time she’d made a lot of friends…
A few friends…
Just Rachel.
But now it was time for her to break free, spread her wings, discover the world.
She would be starting her new job in January next year and there was plenty of time to reinvent herself before then.
Her father hadn’t been keen on her accepting this job.
It required her to move to the States, the very place he’d been trying to keep her away from, but it was an offer that could not be refused.
So now she was here with nothing but a few thousand miles between her and the woman she’d been dying to meet her whole life. She wanted to know if they looked the same, if they liked the same things. Did she hum while she cooked? What were her hobbies? Now was the time to find out.
“Cuz, if your dad finds about this, he’ll kill you,” Pratiksha said.
“How’s he gonna know?” Jasmintha fired back.
“He’s never around. I was with him in Chicago for months and I barely saw him.
Then he sends me here and tells me he’s gonna fly over in two weeks.
He said we were gonna tour the town and roast marshmallows by the fire…
and now he’s not coming.” She felt her throat clog up, but that was merely because some pointless emotion was causing a chemical reaction in her brain.
It was quickly rectified. She knew how to deal with unwanted emotions.
“I’ve been waiting for him for two weeks…
six months…three years. It depends when you start counting. ”
Prenisha stepped in and attempted to sway her with logic. “There’s a reason why your father doesn’t want you to meet her. She could be a drug-addict, or some kind of criminal, or a—”
“I don’t care. She’s my mother, Nish.”
“You don’t even know if she still lives in Atlanta.
You’re basing this on an inactive Facebook account which hasn’t been updated in over a year.
You’re just going to hop on a plane and hope for the best?
It’s crazy! What if you get there and she’s moved?
What if you get there and she’s on vacation somewhere? ”