Father had no such doubt. He knew the worst was to come. He had been matchinghoroscopes for a year, but my brother Vivek had found a million excuses for notbeing able to visit India , call any of the chosen Iyer girls, or in any otherway advance father's cause. Father always wore four parallel lines of sacredash on his forehead. Now there were eight, so deep were the furrows of worry onhis forehead. I sat in a corner, supposedly lost in a book, but furiously text-messagingmy brother with a vivid description of the scene before me.

A few days later I stood outside the airport with father. He tried not to lookdirectly at any American woman going past, and held up the card reading"Barbara". Finally a large woman stepped out, waved wildly andshouted "Hiiii! Mr. Aayyyezh, how ARE you?" Everyone turned andlooked at us. Father shrank visibly before my eyes. Barbara took three longsteps and covered father in a tight embrace. Father's jiggling out of it wastoo funny to watch. I could hear him whispering "Shiva Shiva!". Sheshouted "you must be Vijaantee?" "Yes, Vyjayanthi" I saidwith a smile. I imagined little half-Indian children calling me "Vijaanteeaunty!". Suddenly, my colorless existence in Madurai had perked up. For atleast the next one week, life promised to be quite exciting.

Soon we were eating lunch at home. Barbara had changed into an even shorter skirt. The low neckline of her blouse was just in line withfather's eyes. He was glaring at mother as if she had conjured up Barbara justto torture him. Barbara was asking "You only have vegetarian food?Always??" as if the idea was shocking to her. "You know what reallygoes well with Indian food, especially chicken? Indian beer!" she saidwith a pleasant smile, seemingly oblivious to the apoplexy of the gentleman infront of her, or the choking sounds coming from mother. I had to quickly duckunder the table to hide my giggles.Everyone tried to get the facts withoutasking the one question on all our minds: What was the exact nature of therelationship between Vivek and Barbara?

She brought out a laptop computer. "I have some pictures of Vivek"she said. All of us crowded around her. The first picture was quite innocuous.Vivek was wearing shorts and standing alone on the beach. In the next photo, hehad Barbara draped all over him. She was wearing a skimpy bikini and leaningacross, with her hand lovingly circling his neck. Father got up, and flickedthe towel off his shoulder. It was a gesture we in the family had learned tofear. He literally ran to the door and went out. Barbara said "It must behard for Mr. Aayyezh. He must be missing his son." We didn't have theheart to tell her that if said son had been within reach, father would havelovingly wrung his neck.

My parents and grandmother apparently had reached an unspoken agreement.