Page 29 of A Kiss in Kashmir

“As you know, I am not a bundle of joy to be around when I am sick, Emilio. Yet he kept his patience with me even though he didn’t need to be here.”

Emilio listened for a few minutes as Alina went on and on about George and her stomach and all the issues. “You know, Alina, my nonna has always told me that the best relationships are not necessarily the ones that are due to blood relations. They are the ones where people care for you and love you because of who you are and who they are.” He went on to ask how Sharmila’s relationship was with George.

“Ma? She likes him a lot. She seems happy here, Emilio. I see her painting with abandon here. I mean, when was the last time you saw Ma laughing like a little kid? One thing I noticed, I guess, now that you’re asking. I see Ma asking him endless questions. I have never seen that side of her before. She is so curious, like a child. Anyway, now they’ve gone on a walk.”

She added that she had to push them out of the room so she could talk to him privately as they didn’t want to leave her alone.

“Well, then, we should make use of this privacy, shouldn’t we,” he said and leaned into the camera to give her a kiss.

For the next few minutes, Alina and Emilio were as intimate as modern technology would allow. “I miss you and I am coming home soon,” Alina said.

“I can’t wait to see you. Alina, do you think your mom actually likes George? As in, you know, a possible relationship, or is it just a friendship?”

“Hmm… I have been wondering. Ma has always been, you know, alone. I don’t know,” Alina said, but his words made her think.

About an hour or so after Alina hung up the phone, Sharmila and George entered the room, holding bags filled with fresh fruit and a large tub of soup. Alina knew that tub well. Wajid had been sending homemade broth to make sure she was getting her nutrients, as he was worried that the hotel food wasn’t going to cut it.

“Joy, joy, more soup,” Alina said wryly.

“Well, young lady, you are wrong. This time, it isn’t. Wajid was insisting on more soup, but since you are feeling a lot better, this time it is rice with chicken from my kitchen. So please, prepare to be impressed,” George said.

He opened the container and the smell of cinnamon and fried onions filled the room. Alina didn’t need any other invitation and ate the rice he gave her. With every bite, she complimented his cooking and thanked the Lord for real food that wasn’t soup.

Sharmila sat across from her and ate too but looked very somber.

“What is the matter, Ma? You don’t like George’s cooking?” Alina asked.

Before Sharmila could answer, George jumped in. “I think she is back on that island you always joke about—the island of worry. Is that what you call it?”

Sharmila shook her head at them. “You both think you are so cool. Well, Iamworried. We are to head back soon, and we are nowhere near the wedding planning being completed here. I don’t know how we will do it from there,” she said softly.

The three continued to eat in silence. Then Alina spoke up.

“Ma, why don’t we extend the trip for another three weeks? I don’t mind staying a bit longer. Emilio is busy with his exams now and when we get back, he will be off for Thanksgiving. What do you think? I really think I want to stay here and learn more. I am glad you suggested this, Ma. I am so glad.”

Within minutes, the dates were shifted, and the trip was officially extended. A very relieved Sharmila sat back on the hotel room couch and sighed. “Now we can plan. I am so glad you agreed to this. But even more glad that you are feeling better.”

Alina watched Sharmila and George clean up the dinner plates as they talked and joked about taking care of her. Their movements were in sync, as though they had been together a long time. She cleared and handed him the trash. He moved the dirty glasses and placed them outside the door. She called housekeeping to clean up, and he sat down and made a list of the things that they were going to do the next few weeks. They laughed more than they talked.

“Sharmila, I’m going to leave now. I’ll be busy with Wajid for the next day or so on that mission we discussed. But I’ll be back shortly and then, Ms. Alina, we can continue our tour and get you ready for a fabulous Kashmiri-style wedding.”

When he left, Sharmila went to the bathroom to get ready for the night.

Alina wondered what the mission was. More importantly, she thought about the way Sharmila reacted when Alina suggested they push the trip out for a few more weeks.

The way Sharmila’s eyes had lit up told Alina a lot more than Sharmila probably wanted to share.

Chapter 11

“Sharmila, you aren’t going to believe this.” George’s voice was filled with excitement. “I didn’t think our mission to find Vikram’s family was going to be easy.”

He had been gone a few days, texting her updates. Alina felt better, so she and Sharmila used the time to revisit Raahat and talk more to Zarina about the flowers. And much to Alina’s delight, to spend some more time visiting some of the smaller tea shops and just soak up the atmosphere before the brisk winds of winter arrived.

“About Vikram? Shh… Alina is here,” Sharmila placed a finger on her lips.

George was standing at the door of Sharmila’s hotel room. Dressed in what Alina called his “old man’s uniform”—a pair of blue jeans and a white cashmere sweater—he looked relaxed and content.

After their awkward night on his houseboat, Sharmila had been worried that would make seeing him again very difficult. But then he showed up and helped with Alina’s illness with his easygoing and warm manner. All her worry was replaced with a longing yet again. Their walks during that time were filled with stories about his younger days and hers. They talked about schoolmates and parents, about school grades and college graduations. Sharmila had always felt “less than” since she hadn’t gone to college, but he made her realize that a schoolbook education wasn’t all that mattered. Sometimes they talked a lot on the walks, sometimes they just walked with no words. She told him about the draft poetry book that she had been working on for over a decade but hadn’t had the courage to publish as she didn’t have a degree.

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