her?”
“No.”
“Do you think she is suitable?”
Vikram studied the picture. “I would need to consider the question over time.”
Henri squawked, and Vikram offered him several grains of rice.
“What kind of woman do you want to marry?” Emma-Jean asked.
Vikram went to the refrigerator and took out a glass bowl containing chicken thighs coated in a thick cinnamon-colored marinade. “A strong woman,” Vikram said, setting the bowl on the counter. “Someone kind and intelligent and curious, yet also practical.
“I would like to marry somebody I admire,” he added, pouring a cup of pearly rice into a pot of water and setting it on the stove. “Someone generous-hearted. Above all, I think, I would like to marry someone with whom I can talk about many things.”
A comfortable silence settled over the kitchen and mixed with the sweet smell of simmering basmati rice. Vikram chopped some spinach and onions and set the oven to broil. Emma-Jean sat very still while he worked. It was a good ten minutes before she spoke.
“This woman Jayavanti is not right for you. She would not make you happy.”
“How is that?” Vikram asked, raising his thick eyebrows.
“She is talkative and you like it quiet sometimes. ”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And when you are interested in talking, you don’t want to talk about science. You like talking about books, or cooking, or India. This woman is a biologist, so she will want to talk to you about science. You will find that tiresome.”
Vikram nodded. “Interesting,” he said.
It occurred to Emma-Jean that since Vikram’s mother was across two oceans, he might need some additional assistance finding a suitable wife. And who better to assist than Emma-Jean, whose problem-solving skills had been honed by her work on behalf of Colleen Pomerantz and Mr. Petrowski? The problem of finding Vikram a suitable wife would not be difficult to solve. Many women would be interested in a man possessing such high intelligence, great cooking talents, and excellent personal hygiene habits.
“Now that you have told me the kind of woman you are looking for, I will try to find you the person you should marry.”
“Really?” Vikram said, raising his eyebrows even higher.
“Yes,” Emma-Jean replied.
"I look forward to your thoughts on the matter,” Vikram said.
Chapter 10
Did Emma-Jean Lazarus write the letter to Laura Gilroy?
Colleen shook her head and tried to focus on her math quiz.
Oh gosh. What if Emma-Jean wrote it?
Colleen pressed down so hard with her pencil that the point broke and flew up over her shoulder. She fished another pencil out of her backpack and took a deep breath.
No, of course Emma-Jean hadn’t written the letter. That would be just too weird.
Colleen stared at the algebra equations. She had gotten all the practice questions right last night. But now the numbers seemed to be buzzing all around on the paper, like a swarm of wasps.
Emma-Jean did it!
No she didn’t.
Colleen closed her eyes and ordered this idea to please leave her brain. But it kept sneaking in through some secret door in Colleen’s skull.
Finally Colleen realized she had to do something or her head would explode. Somehow she managed to finish the quiz. Then she wrote a note and snuck it into Emma-Jean’s locker while everyone was at lunch.
Dear Emma-Jean,
Hi! How are you? I hope the answer to that question is GREAT!
Can / talk to you today? I have to talk to you about Laura Gilroy and the Ski trip. /f you are free, you can meet me on the benches on the far Side of the Soccer field. I’ll wait until 3:10. Don’t worry if you can’t make it. I have nothing to do after School anyway, So no Sweat!
Have a great day! Colleen P.
Colleen could see Emma-Jean coming across the soccer field. She reminded herself to be calm. She’d just ask Emma-Jean if she’d written the letter and Emma-Jean would say, “Of course not, silly!” or something Emma-Jean-ish that meant the same
“No.”
“Do you think she is suitable?”
Vikram studied the picture. “I would need to consider the question over time.”
Henri squawked, and Vikram offered him several grains of rice.
“What kind of woman do you want to marry?” Emma-Jean asked.
Vikram went to the refrigerator and took out a glass bowl containing chicken thighs coated in a thick cinnamon-colored marinade. “A strong woman,” Vikram said, setting the bowl on the counter. “Someone kind and intelligent and curious, yet also practical.
“I would like to marry somebody I admire,” he added, pouring a cup of pearly rice into a pot of water and setting it on the stove. “Someone generous-hearted. Above all, I think, I would like to marry someone with whom I can talk about many things.”
A comfortable silence settled over the kitchen and mixed with the sweet smell of simmering basmati rice. Vikram chopped some spinach and onions and set the oven to broil. Emma-Jean sat very still while he worked. It was a good ten minutes before she spoke.
“This woman Jayavanti is not right for you. She would not make you happy.”
“How is that?” Vikram asked, raising his thick eyebrows.
“She is talkative and you like it quiet sometimes. ”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And when you are interested in talking, you don’t want to talk about science. You like talking about books, or cooking, or India. This woman is a biologist, so she will want to talk to you about science. You will find that tiresome.”
Vikram nodded. “Interesting,” he said.
It occurred to Emma-Jean that since Vikram’s mother was across two oceans, he might need some additional assistance finding a suitable wife. And who better to assist than Emma-Jean, whose problem-solving skills had been honed by her work on behalf of Colleen Pomerantz and Mr. Petrowski? The problem of finding Vikram a suitable wife would not be difficult to solve. Many women would be interested in a man possessing such high intelligence, great cooking talents, and excellent personal hygiene habits.
“Now that you have told me the kind of woman you are looking for, I will try to find you the person you should marry.”
“Really?” Vikram said, raising his eyebrows even higher.
“Yes,” Emma-Jean replied.
"I look forward to your thoughts on the matter,” Vikram said.
Chapter 10
Did Emma-Jean Lazarus write the letter to Laura Gilroy?
Colleen shook her head and tried to focus on her math quiz.
Oh gosh. What if Emma-Jean wrote it?
Colleen pressed down so hard with her pencil that the point broke and flew up over her shoulder. She fished another pencil out of her backpack and took a deep breath.
No, of course Emma-Jean hadn’t written the letter. That would be just too weird.
Colleen stared at the algebra equations. She had gotten all the practice questions right last night. But now the numbers seemed to be buzzing all around on the paper, like a swarm of wasps.
Emma-Jean did it!
No she didn’t.
Colleen closed her eyes and ordered this idea to please leave her brain. But it kept sneaking in through some secret door in Colleen’s skull.
Finally Colleen realized she had to do something or her head would explode. Somehow she managed to finish the quiz. Then she wrote a note and snuck it into Emma-Jean’s locker while everyone was at lunch.
Dear Emma-Jean,
Hi! How are you? I hope the answer to that question is GREAT!
Can / talk to you today? I have to talk to you about Laura Gilroy and the Ski trip. /f you are free, you can meet me on the benches on the far Side of the Soccer field. I’ll wait until 3:10. Don’t worry if you can’t make it. I have nothing to do after School anyway, So no Sweat!
Have a great day! Colleen P.
Colleen could see Emma-Jean coming across the soccer field. She reminded herself to be calm. She’d just ask Emma-Jean if she’d written the letter and Emma-Jean would say, “Of course not, silly!” or something Emma-Jean-ish that meant the same
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