The deck must have been down to nearly half when Kamini drew the first jack. The others scooted back and propped against the couch, settling in for a good listen. I poured more wine and curled up on the floor cushions in the corner.

Kamini seemed unsure of how to begin; she looked to Kath for reassurance.

"Just spill it," encouraged Kath. "I haven't heard this story either."

"All right." Kamini settled herself on the opposite floor cushion to me and crossed her legs Buddha style.

"I grew up in India," she began. "My family was very traditional and although my sisters and I were encouraged to be independent, there were always the underlying things that couldn't be changed. As Hindus we were vegetarian, we dressed modestly and traditionally, and we were expected to follow professional careers as befitted our station in life. We were also expected to marry young and marry the person our parents chose for us."

"An arranged marriage?" I asked the question.

"Yes." Kamini looked at me and smiled slightly at the expression on my face. " I know, it is hard for you to accept, but it never occurred to me to question it. I truly believed that my parents knew best."

Nerida arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes. I was young and naive, even by our standards." She paused and took a mouthful of wine before continuing. "The man my parents picked out for me was one of their friends. He was a good, honest man, a doctor in our community. His first wife had died five years before, and my parents wanted to please him, as well as ensure my security in the future. He was sixty-four years old."

"Your parents married you off to an old man?" Kath was agog.

"Yes."

"And on your wedding night, what was he like?" Monica cut to the heart of the matter.

"I lost my virginity the week before my wedding night." Kamini was smiling slightly. "Remember, I was young. I was distraught at my parents' choice for me. I had known they would choose my husband, but in my imaginings it was always someone young, dark-eyed and dashing. Not a kindly, benevolent old man, wrinkled with the passing of the years, and a paunch and drooping eyes. I was horrified. I pleaded with my mother to reconsider, but she refused to listen." Her mouth crooked up at one corner. "Family honor was at stake." She paused to take a mouthful of wine. "But my mother was a lucky woman. She had married a man whom she had genuinely grown to love. And I can only imagine that they had a happy and fulfilling sex life, because if she hadn't, I doubt she would have done what she did for me."

Nerida leaned forward. "Which was?"