″ ‘My daughter, Sophie,’ Chacko said, and laughed a small, nervous laugh that was worried, in case Margaret Kochamma said ‘ex-daughter.’ But she didn’t.”
“Oh come on!” Chacko said. “You can’t dictate what she does with her own spit!”
“Mind your own business,” Ammu snapped.
“It brings back Memories,” Estha, in his wisdom, explained to Chacko.
″ ‘Feeling hot, baby?’ the man like a knot asked Rahel kindly in Malayalam.
Then, unkindly, ‘Ask your daddy to buy you an Air Condition!’ and he hooted with delight at his own wit and timing. Rahel smiled back at him, pleased to have Chacko mistaken for her father. Like a normal family.”
“Rahel put on her sunglasses and looked back into the Play. Everything was Angry-colored. Sophie Mol, standing between Margaret Kochamma and Chacko, looked as though she ought to be slapped.”