Seema 2

The weekend news has all the sizzling details. A dozen naked men (including the Afghan but not East Indian) are arrested following a bathhouse brawl, pending charges. The police investigation shows it was fighting by consent, as opposed to assault and no serious injuries, so they lob the ball into the bathhouse's court. The men could be charged with disturbing the peace.
No property damage done, and not wishing to alienate paying customers, the bathhouse management offers the lads a way out: sign an apology and accept a two week suspension.
Not surprisingly, they agree. For the whites, just a big joke. For the Afghan, could be serious trouble.
What do I overhear Monday?
East Indian asks, "so how'd your parents take it?"
"Wiggled out neatly."
Loud gasp, "how???"
"Said I wasn't gay, just horny. Fiancee is a nice girl and won't put out, couldn't find any bad girls."
"They bought that?"
"Hook line and sinker."
East Indian gasps, "good looker like you could walk into a bar, line up a white chick inside five minutes. Your parents are totally out of it, no understanding at all."
"And thank the heavens for that."
"So who did you say this mystery fiancee was?"
"Seema. Reason we're keeping it secret is she's still on probation at work. That plus we need to save enough for the honeymoon. We're too proud to take that as a gift."
"They bought that? Agreed to keep it secret?"
"Yes."
"Why'd you pick her?"
"Who is less likely to announce a wedding and spoil my alibi? Better than naming a better looking Afghan girl."
"So what will you say when you do have enough saved?"
Laugh, "we just decided to save more, go somewhere more expensive."
Both laugh wickedly.
At this point, I would happily strangle both. However, reason prevails. I have not been publicly defamed, this is a secret between him and his parents.
Several days later, I run into his sister. She confidentially tells me he's gay (as if the whole city did not know) and suggests a book to read on the topic, The Other Side of the Closet.
I thank her for confiding, promise to do so.
I wait on tenterhooks. To my huge relief, no one in the Afghan community looks askance at me.
My brother has now been through four babysitters, all of whom eat everything in the fridge and invite boyfriend over. Suddenly the issue of what I might say to the children is irrelevant and I am asked to return. Truth is, I'm glad to go, an escape from the house.