Page 8 of Yours for the Season
“As soon as I crack my thesis, I’ll be back,” Nadiya said. “But you’ll have to face this latest guy on your own. I have total faith you can make him run in the opposite direction.”
“I appreciate your confidence in my ability to repulse men,” Sameera returned.
“Not all men. About Tom ...” Nadiya started. “Is there something going on?”
“Not even a little bit,” Sameera said solemnly. “This is Mom, up to her usual tricks.”
“Well, don’t freak out and stop talking to them again. I’m not there to drag you back from the brink,” Nadiya said. She was joking, but also not. Sameera knew how much she owed her sister. She only wished she could be honest about what had really happened.
They hung up, and Sameera knew she couldn’t delay the inevitable. It was time to meet her parents’ guests and their various eligible sons, then stuff her face with her mother’s and Tom’s delicious food before returning home to work until the wee morning hours. Just another Eid holiday, back in the warm embrace of her family, she thought, smiling to herself.
The truth was, despite the impending awkwardness, she wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Sameera had lived through the opposite—coldness, distance, holidays spent alone and lonely—for too long not to appreciate what she had now. She was back in her family circle and determined to stay, no matter what.
Chapter Three
Wealth Management Guy—Amin—turned out to be very nice. They chatted about the food, the unexpected cold snap in Atlanta, their respective jobs. It was abundantly clear he had zero interest in Sameera and had only shown up to make his parents happy. She could appreciate an obedient desi boy, especially one who posed no threat to her happily single status, and she let her thoughts wander as they talked.
Wasshe happily single? It had been over a year since Hunter had walked out on her, ending their tumultuous five-year relationship: eleven months and two weeks since she realized the extent of the financial disaster her ex-boyfriend had left her in, and how long it would take to pay back the debt he had accumulated in her name.
The shame of being duped by her intimate partner had been almost worse than the debt. She’d had no idea about any of it—not the credit cards he had opened in her name, not the line of credit he had opened up for both of them, not the secondary lines of credit and predatory payday loans he had resorted to by the end. He had an addiction, he finally confessed after he couldn’t hide the truth from her anymore. Online gambling had him in its grasp, and he was sure the next payout was just around the corner. They had shared one last tearful night, with promises on his side to do better, and on hers to stand by him while he got the help he needed.
In the morning, he was gone, leaving only a few items of clothing, and his debt, behind.
Maybe “happily single” wasn’t the right term. Perhaps “warily single and emotionally shattered” was more accurate. As she chatted with the amiable Amin, she wondered if he knew about her past. Who was she kidding? Of course he did—everyone knew about the Malik family’s wayward daughter.
“So?” Tahsin asked when the two separated after their chat. “Amin is very successful, and his mother said that he is ready to settle down. He had a few lost years, too, just like ...” She trailed off.
Just like you,Sameera finished silently. “He’s not interested, and neither am I,” she said firmly.
“Lubna Aunty brought her son, too, but he had to take a call from his second ex-wife. When he comes back, I’ll introduce you,” Tahsin said.
“Hard pass,” Sameera said.
“Beta, what’s the harm in talking? You’ve known some of these boys all your life,” Tahsin said, trying to keep her voice low, though a few of the guests were already looking their way.
“And if anything was going to happen, it would have already,” Sameera said.
Lubna Aunty sidled up to her, dark eyes inquisitive. A skinny woman, her hair covered by a dopatta and dressed in a flashysalwar kameezwith matching jewels, she had always reminded Sameera of a heron, with the matching vicious beak.
“So nice to see you again, Sameera,” Lubna Aunty started, reaching for a deep-fried pakora and chewing thoughtfully. “Tahsin says you are working very hard at your little job. Don’t forget, you need balance in your life for other things, too. My Nabiha just had her third child. I went to visit, and she was so happy. The body just snaps back to normal at that age.” Lubna eyed Sameera’s waistline. “It will be much harder for you.”
Sameera sighed. She had long ago decided not to bother arguing with her mother’s friends. They weren’t all like Lubna Aunty, thankfully. She excused herself and retreated to the kitchen, deciding she wouldrather inflame her mother’s suspicions by hanging out with Tom than spend more time being passive-aggressively interrogated by mean aunties.
Inside the kitchen, Tom was loading the dishwasher, a pot of water slowly coming to a boil on the stove.
“Are you making chai?” she asked, impressed.
“I was informed there would be a riot if the aunties and uncles didn’t get their caffeine fix,” he said solemnly. “I googled a recipe.”
“Blasphemy. Every family has their own chai recipe. It’s the one thing I know how to cook,” Sameera said, reaching for a tin with whole cardamom.
“If you think boiling water for tea is cooking, I have some terrible news,” he offered. She smiled back, shoving him playfully so she could reach the cinnamon sticks and cloves, plus the special loose-leaf black tea they used for serious chai-brewing. Her hand tingled from where it had come in contact with his firm, rather muscular shoulder.Is working out a requirement for chefs?she wondered. They were quiet as she stared into the water and Tom started clearing the food from the kitchen island.
“Does your mom really think we’re dating?” Tom asked, breaking the silence.
Sameera stiffened. “Who knows what she thinks.”
“That explains a few things,” he said thoughtfully. “She asked me what my suit size was, and if there was a family history of diabetes and high blood pressure. Also if I had dated a Muslim girl before.”
