Turning away from the door, she walked back into the living room where the women were taking up residence while the guys were on cleaning duty after they had all indulged greedily of the Thanksgiving dinner. Fighting down the instinct to go to the kitchen and help because she was still uncomfortable with the idea of men in the kitchen, she reluctantly handed baby Ginny back to Kara with a frown. “Some lady wants to talk to me. A doctor. Kade’s security agent said he checked her ID and she was legitimate. Apparently she knew my father and wants to give me something that belonged to him.”
“What are you going to do?” Mia asked, her voice concerned.
Asha shrugged nervously. “I told him to let her come up to the house. She’s alone. I can’t let her leave if she’s claiming to know my real father. I know so little about him. If she does know him, she can fill in some information, tell me more about him and maybe my mother.”
“She could be a reporter in disguise,” Maddie retorted, her voice sounding disgusted.
“Or just curious. There was enough coverage in the gossip rags about your discovery,” Kara murmured as she repositioned the sleeping baby Ginny back in her lap.
The doorbell rang, and Asha flinched nervously. Had the woman really known her real father? And if she had known her father, she probably knew her mother, too. Why, after all these years, would she come here?
“I’ll get it,” Mia said hastily and jumped up from her seat on the couch to jog for the door.
Asha knew she could have answered the door herself, but confusion kept her feet planted on the carpet, the other three women looking at her anxiously.
Mia returned moments later, followed by an older Indian woman. The woman was dressed with casual elegance in a trendy pantsuit of muted fall colors, her hair gathered in a loose knot on the top of her head. Her age was hard to judge, but Asha could see some gray hairs peeking out of coal black tresses.
She stopped in front of Asha, her smile warm and comforting. “Namaste,” Asha welcomed her softly in Hindi, India’s national language. She wasn’t certain exactly what to say to the woman, and not sure whether or not she even spoke Telugu.
Smiling wider, the woman echoed, “Namaste.” She paused briefly before continuing in English. “You look very much like Navin and are as beautiful as Alice.” She gently cupped Asha’s cheek before dropping her hand and adding, “I knew you’d grow up beautiful even when you were a baby. You stole everyone’s heart.”
“Did we meet?” Asha asked curiously.
“Yes. But you wouldn’t remember me. You were still an infant.” The woman’s English was lightly accented, but perfect.
“So you really did know my father,” Asha said softly, offering the older woman a seat and sitting in a chair across from her.
“Yes. May I speak in front of your friends?” The woman looked around at Maddie, Kara, and Mia.
Asha nodded and introduced her sister, sister-in-law, and Kara, explaining that Mia’s husband, Max, and Maddie were also Alice’s children.
“It’s wonderful to meet you all. I’m Devi Robinson.” Looking at Maddie, she added, “I’ve heard of you, Dr. Hudson, and the wonderful work you do with your clinic.”
Maddie nodded her thanks and replied, “I’ve heard of you, too. You’re a psychiatrist. A very good one. I’ve read a lot of your case studies and articles.”
“I am a doctor of psychiatry, a dream that never would have happened had it not been for Asha’s father,” she acknowledged in a fond voice. “How much do you know of your father’s work to help Indian female students, Asha?”
Flabbergasted, Asha gaped at her. “He was an engineer,” she answered, baffled by the woman’s words.
Devi nodded. “He was. But he was also an activist for the rights of Indian women. And your mother supported him in the cause. They never formed an official organization, but he helped a lot of female students here in the United States, including myself. Navin Paritala was one of the best men I’ve ever known. He gave very selflessly to Indian women here in various bad circumstances. His only request was that we all someday give the money back to his daughter for her education when the time came.” The woman rummaged in her purse, pulling an envelope from the contents. “None of us could ever locate you. You were whisked off to a foster family very quickly after your parents died, and we weren’t allowed to know where you were. All of us have looked for years, but we couldn’t locate you. When I saw the article about you being a half-sibling to Dr. Hudson and Mr. Hamilton, I had to find you. We owe you this.” Devi handed Asha the envelope with a smile. “There were ten of us, and we all kept in contact. It’s turned into a substantial sum.”