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each stroke. She had never seen anyone with such
precise control over a wheelchair, he wasn't like the cripples she
had seen occasionally in the city, most of them beggars.
    Next to the baggage claim, he put brakes on
his wheels. When she pointed out her small blue suitcase, he leaned
forward in the wheelchair, twisting and keeping one hand on the
back of the chair while he grabbed the suitcase with the other and
yanked it onto the ground. Priyanka felt a tickle of admiration.
She expected someone like him to have others do things for him. In
fact, she imagined that's why he had decided he wanted a wife.
    “Can I help you out, mate?” A strong looking,
tan young man said, but Deepak smiled and said no. He picked up the
suitcase and positioned it on his lap. “The car's this way,” he
said.
    As he got in, Priyanka watched him. When the
wheelchair was stored in the backseat she said, “Can I ask what it
is for?”
    “The wheelchair? I had an accident when I was
a kid, in India. My parents brought me here hoping for better
treatment, but even American doctors couldn't make me walk.”
    “Acha,” she said solemnly.
    “I didn't want to do this whole arranged
marriage thing, but American dating is brutal and my parents
finally talked me into this.”
    Priyanka didn't say anything. She had never
expected anything else, although she thought she would be married
to a low-level shop worker.
    They drove through Boston, just the two of
them. Priyanka looked out the window. The city seemed empty and
cold. The streets were thick with cars, but all proceeding in a
solid, polite line, only a honk occasionally.
    As they headed out of the city and the
landscape became manicured lawns and wide houses, Deepak said, “You
don't have to go through with this, you know. My family lied and it
won't hurt my feelings if you turn me down now. Well, it will hurt
my feelings, but I'll understand. They wanted me to wait until the
wedding to see you, or rather for you to see me. I didn't want you
to be trapped.”
    She felt a little ill as she looked again at
his motionless legs. She almost couldn't tell when they were in the
car, the only thing that gave it away was the machinery that
allowed his hands to control the gas and brake. But remembering how
he looked in the wheelchair it was hard to imagine him touching her
in an intimate way, even if he was handsome. It was as though the
two halves of his body were fighting each other. The handsome face
canceled out by the tragedy of the lower part.
    “I have no where to go,” she said.
    “Right.” He sighed. “Well, let's get you
introduced to the family.”
    He pulled into a driveway and people came
rushing out of the house. The women wore salwar suits and the men
were in western dress. They stood so close to the car that Deepak
seemed to have trouble getting his wheelchair out. Everyone was
peering in and trying to get a look at her. She waited until Deepak
was out and settled before she got out of the car and allowed
herself to be enveloped in strangers.
    Inside, the kitchen table was covered in
food, like a buffet, and people swarmed all over the house.
Priyanka looked around, assuming that Deepak lived here and that
she would be moving in after the marriage had taken place.
    “A small wedding. Hundred people only.” His
mother darted her head to the side as she said this. “We will
provide the sari and the jewels and we'll have some relatives to
stand in for yours.” Priyanka nodded, saying nothing. The wedding
would be something done to her, not something she felt a part of.
She looked over at Deepak, who was filling a plate with rice and
daal and vegetables. He put it on his lap and stuck a glass of
water between his knees. Once she was a daughter-in-law, it would
be her job to serve him and the rest of the family. He was an only
child, there was no other daughter-in-law.
    His mother grabbed Priyanka's chin and turned
her face back and forth. “Very nice,” she said,
    “Now, you