The Unexpected Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

it’s washed.”
    â€œKeep it. It’s yours,” he said, with a dismissive gesture—like a movie star offering a wide-eyed fan a small souvenir.
    â€œSo, what is it you wanted to discuss?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You want me to do your homework or something…to return the favor?”
    â€œHomework?” He erupted into sardonic laughter, drawing the attention of more passersby. “I don’t have homework. But I’m sure you’ve noticed that.” He looked at his wristwatch, a surprisingly plain watch with a brown leather band. “I had something else in mind. Why don’t you join me for that cup of coffee?”
    â€œI can’t.” Coffee with him? All by herself? Her father would have a fit if she dared to indulge in such behavior. More than her father, it was Vishal, her brother, who was protective of her to the point of strangulation.
    She suspected that Vishal liked playing the role of big brother. That way he could justify his bossy attitude, and get grateful looks from their parents on top of it. It saved them the trouble of disciplining her. Besides, a brother, especially an older one, more or less played a paternal role when it came to looking out for the women in the family. It was a brother’s duty to protect his sister. The good thing was, he lived in Bombay now and couldn’t watch over her that closely.
    In any case, she wasn’t planning on telling anyone in her family about the scary episode a few minutes ago. They’d keep her locked up in the house if they found out. If they ever learned that a boy, a Kannada one at that, had touched her shoulder and held a long conversation with her in clear view of the public, they were certain to become upset.
    As it was, her family barely tolerated her close friendship with Prema. They just couldn’t understand why she had to pick a Kannada girl for a best friend, when there were so many Marathi girls she could befriend.
    And now here was Som, talking about going out for coffee like it was an everyday occurrence. That was another thing—drinking coffee instead of the traditional tea that most Palgaum folks consumed. Sipping coffee from large, thick ceramic mugs instead of ordinary cups and saucers was the trend lately. Coffee was what Americans drank, so it was more sophisticated than the colonial custom of drinking tea. British traditions were passé, while American habits were worth emulating.
    â€œAw, come on,” he teased. “It’s only a harmless cup of coffee. Besides, I’m buying.”
    â€œIt’s not that. My parents don’t like me socializing with boys,” she confessed.
    â€œYour parents don’t mind you going to a café with your other friends, I’m sure.”
    â€œMy other friends happen to be girls.”
    He shook his head. “Gender really shouldn’t matter.”
    â€œIt’s not that simple…at least with people like my parents.” She tossed him a challenging scowl. “I’m sure your parents are the same way.”
    It was no secret that his parents were orthodox Lingayats, a sect belonging to the Vaishya business caste. Just because they were rich and popular on the club scene didn’t mean they didn’t adhere to their conservative traditions in their home. Rumor had it that they all wore their traditional lingams , the sacred symbol of Lord Shiva, on a thread underneath their fancy clothes. The Koris were zamindars —landed gentry—with vast ancestral tracts of farmland.
    Matter of fact, Vinita’s information came from a reliable source. Prema’s family was well acquainted with the Koris. Everything Vinita knew about Som Kori’s private life came from Prema.
    â€œSure, they’re old-fashioned, but they don’t get involved in my social life,” Som explained. He looked at his watch again, then raised a brow at her. “So you want to join me for a cup