Sara Desai - The Marriage Game
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A JOVE BOOK
Published by Berkley
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
penguinrandomhouse.com
Copyright 2020 by Sara Desai
Readers Guide copyright 2020 by Sara Desai
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
A JOVE BOOK, BERKLEY, and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Desai, Sara, author.
Title: The marriage game / Sara Desai.
Description: First edition. | New York: Jove, 2020.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019046001 (print) | LCCN 2019046002 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593100561 (paperback) | ISBN 9780593100578 (ebook)
Subjects: GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PR9199.4.D486 M37 2020 (print)| LCC PR9199.4.D486 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019046001
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019046002
First Edition: June 2020
Cover art by Marina Muun
Cover design by Katie Anderson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
pid_prh_5.5.0_c0_r0
To Dad,
for everything
Without the support of so many kind and generous people, this book would not exist. Thank you to my fantastic editor, Kristine Swartz, for your enthusiasm and support and for including me in your amazing list of diverse authors. You have made a dream come true.
To my lovely literary agent, Laura Bradford, who has been on this journey with me from the start through its many forms and iterations. Without your encouragement, I would never have taken that step out of the shadows.
I am very grateful to the entire Berkley team. Thank you for the beautiful cover, your hard work and energy, and your attention to detail, and for sending my story into the world the very best it could be.
Mindy Kaling, Jameela Jamil, and Lilly Singh: thank you for paving the way. And thank you to Sahrish Nadim.
To Christa Desir, who once upon a time took a chance on me, and who has worked tirelessly to promote inclusivity in the publishing industry. You continue to inspire me every day.
Thank you to my family for laughing at me. I would never have found my comedy voice without your smiles.
And finally, to John and my girls. For your love and support, your patience and understanding, your hugs and kisses. You are my everything.
Dear Sir:
Please find attached to this e-mail the marriage rsum of my beloved daughter, Layla Patel, age twenty-six, who is in immediate need of a husband.
She is beautiful, intelligent, and well educated with a delightful streak of independence and a quick wit. She is a healthy girl who greatly enjoys her food. My daughter also loves music like the famous Nickelback band. She is a good girlobedient, polite, and demurewith a deep sense of responsibility to her family and respect for her elders. She is devoted to her cultural traditions, but she wont wear a sari.
Her ideal match would be a successful and dependable professional who believes in duty and tradition. He will be fit, healthy, and well-groomed with good educational qualifications and a successful career. Above all, he will make my daughter happy and treat her with kindness and respect. He must also tolerate the company of a very large, loud, and loving family.
If you think you would be a match, please respond by e-mail or send your rsum to Nasir Patel c/o The Spice Mill Restaurant, San Francisco, California.
P.S. Discretion is essential. My daughter is not aware I have posted her profile online.
W HEN Layla walked into The Spice Mill Restaurant after yet another disastrous relationship, she expected hugs and kisses, maybe a murmur of sympathy, or even a cheerful Welcome home.
Instead, she got a plate of samosas and a pitcher of water for table twelve.
There are fresh poppadums in the kitchen, her mother said. Dont forget to offer them to all the guests. Not even a glimmer of emotion showed on her mothers gently lined face. Layla could have been any one of the half-dozen servers who worked at her parents restaurant instead of the prodigal daughter who had returned to San Francisco, albeit with a broken heart.
She should have known better than to show up during opening hours expecting to pour out her heart. The middle child in a strict, academic, reserved family, her mother wasnt given to outward displays of affection. But after the emotional devastation of walking in on her social media star boyfriend, Jonas Jameson, as he snorted the last of her savings off of two naked models, Layla had hoped for something more than being put to work.
It was her childhood all over again.
Yes, Mom. She dutifully carried the plate and pitcher to the table and chatted briefly with the guests about the restaurants unique decor. Decorated in exotic tones of saffron, gold, ruby, and cinnamon with accent walls representing the natural movement of wind and fire, and a cascading waterfall layered with beautiful landscaped artificial rocks and tiny plastic animals, the restaurant was the embodiment of her late brothers dream to re-create India in the heart of San Francisco.
The familiar scentscinnamon, pungent turmeric, and smoky cuminbrought back memories of evenings spent stirring dal, chopping onions, and rolling roti in the bustling kitchen of her parents first restaurant in Sunnyvale under the watchful army of chefs who followed the recipes developed by her parents. What had seemed fun as a child, and an imposition as a teenager, now filled her with a warm sense of nostalgia, although she would have liked just one moment of her mothers time.
On her way to the kitchen for the poppadums, she spotted her nieces coloring in a booth and went over to greet them. Her parents looked after them in the evenings when their mom, Rhea, was busy at work.
Layla Auntie! Five-year-old Anika and six-year-old Zaina, their long dark hair in pigtails, ran to give her a hug.
Did you bring us anything from New York? Zaina asked.
Layla dropped to her knees and put her arms around her nieces. I might have brought a few presents with me, but I left them at the house. I didnt think Id see you here.
Can we go with you and get them? They planted sticky kisses on her cheeks, making her laugh.
Ill bring them tomorrow. What have you been eating?
Jalebis. Anika held up a bright orange, pretzel-shaped sweet similar to a funnel cake.
Yesterday we helped Dadi make chocolate peda, Zaina informed her, using the Urdu term for paternal grandmother.
And the day before that we made
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