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“I was luckier than you and Maddie,” Max answered contritely.
She looked up at Max, and wanted to hug him again when she saw his rueful expression. “I’m glad at least one of us got adopted. It’s not your fault that I didn’t. I survived. I had foster parents who fed me and gave me a roof over my head.”
Maddie chuckled. “Don’t bother trying to tell him that. You’ll soon learn that Max feels like a brother who should have been there for his sisters, even though he didn’t even know we existed. Maybe together we can convince him that he’s not psychic and isn’t responsible for our problems.”
Asha smiled shyly at Maddie. “Things happen. It’s nobody’s fault.”
Shooting Max a warm smile, she let Maddie and Mia lead her toward the stairs.
“We’ll throw something on the grill. I’m starving,” Kade grumbled. “Don’t be gone long.”
After the three women climbed the stairs and entered Asha’s temporary bedroom, she looked at Mia and Maddie and said, “They’re actually going to cook?” She’d never once seen her foster father cook, and her ex-husband certainly hadn’t.
Mia and Maddie both flopped on Asha’s bed, making themselves comfortable. “Kade is a little scary in the culinary department, but Max is a decent cook. And Maddie’s husband, Sam, almost always cooks. He makes some incredible food,” Mia answered, folding her legs beneath her on the bed and looking at Asha with a perplexed look. “You look surprised.”
“I’ve never seen a husband who actually cooked,” she answered, still surprised that Maddie’s billionaire husband actually spent time in the kitchen.
“Sam hasn’t let me fix a meal since I got pregnant,” Maddie said with a sigh. “He’s a little freaked out that I’m having twins. Kade told us that you were married for seven years. Don’t tell me that your ex-husband never made a meal.”
Asha shook her head. “Never. My foster parents were very conservative Indians and so was my ex-husband. Men don’t cook.” She watched Maddie as she stretched out on the bed, noticing for the first time that her new sister had a baby bump. She hadn’t seen it beneath the flowing shirt Maddie was wearing, but it was pretty recognizable now that she was lying on the bed with the material stretched over her distended belly. “You’re having twins?” she asked, her tone slightly awed.
Maddie smiled dreamily. “Yes. Much to my husband’s dismay. He’s thrilled, but he worries about the risk factors.”
Mia snorted. “If your man never cooked, I’m surprised you lasted seven years with him.”
“It was the acceptable thing in my culture. My foster parents were very traditional immigrants and so was my ex-husband. They were used to the woman doing the cooking, cleaning, and female chores.”
“Maybe it’s time to learn more about your American culture,” Maddie mused. “Most women work or take care of children, and men share responsibilities. If they don’t, we give them a swift kick in the ass.”
Asha smiled at Maddie’s comment as she dug into her purse, looking for her photos, and continued to explain what her life had been like to Maddie and Mia because they asked what seemed like a million questions about her upbringing and her marriage. She answered all their questions, skirting around the domestic abuse part of her history. Finally, she found the photo of her mother and father, along with her pictures of her work.
“So they sold you?” Maddie said angrily, sounding as outraged as Kade, virtually repeating his words, after Asha told the two women vaguely about her marriage, minus the abuse details. “Honey, it wasn’t all about the culture. There are Indian women here who are doctors, lawyers, and rocket scientists. You’re American with Indian blood, but you’re still American and living in America. And Indian women do incredible things here, get wonderful educations. I think your foster family and your ex-husband thought they were still living in India. And I don’t think they were very nice people either, regardless of their heritage.”
Asha sighed and plopped into a chair beside the bed. “My foster parents don’t talk to me anymore because I divorced Ravi.” Not that they had communicated with her much anyway after her marriage. They spoke to Ravi, but they rarely asked about her.
“We get to screen your next husband,” Mia said, her voice making the statement sound more like a threat than a joke. “If there’s no give-and-take in the relationship, you can’t marry him.”
“I won’t marry again,” Asha answered in a hushed voice.
“Of course you will. Mia and I were both older than you when we married Max and Sam,” Maddie said fiercely. “You just need the right guy this time.”
“I can’t have children,” Asha admitted reluctantly. For some reason, these two women made her want to spill all her secrets to them.
“You can adopt if you want kids. And depending on the reason, there could be other options. Do you know why you can’t conceive?” Maddie asked gently.
“I don’t know. It didn’t really matter. Ravi said he got checked and he was fine. He said it was my defect.”
“You’re not defective just because you can’t have a child,” Maddie said, exasperated. “Marry a man you love, and you can work out the rest when the time comes. Love is everything, Asha. You can work around other problems.”
Asha fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. “There was never love in my marriage.”
“There will be next time,” Mia said sympathetically. “Maddie and I will make sure of it.”
Asha didn’t think there would be a next time for her, but she smiled at the two women on the bed, her heart squeezing inside her chest because they were concerned abouther.
This is what it’s like to have friends. Real friends who care.
“Thanks,” she said simply, handing Maddie the photo of her parents, and Mia her work pictures.