by Nisha Sharma
“Isn’t that one of your poker friends?”
“Yes, that’s him. He has his own practice. Maybe he can teleconference with you if you want to talk to someone familiar until your mom connects with a therapist there?”
“I can wait a little while longer, but thanks.”
“Okay, chutki. But remember, drinking water is always a good idea too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Dad.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
The gap between them closed a little more.
“Happy early Diwali, Daddy,” she said softly.
“Oh, yes, things are already festive here! I know that Diwali season was always busy growing up. You with your shows, me at the restaurant. But how about I teach you something special tomorrow to celebrate? We’ll do a dessert. You and me.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Mango kulfi.”
“Ice cream?”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother frown, but Radha was already thinking about how kulfi was made, and whether she’d seen it in her grandfather’s notebook. “Is it one of Dada’s recipes?”
“This is my recipe. You up for it?”
“Yeah. I love ice cream. Sounds like fun.” The mention of food had her stomach rumbling. She stepped around her mother, who was still watching her like a hawk, and opened the fridge. “Maybe you’ll have more time to teach me some of the harder recipes if…if I come for Christmas break. The most complicated things I’ve made are Maggi, paneer, and halwa.”
“You mean it? You’d like to come home to visit?”
The idea that Chicago was still her home made her queasy. New Jersey was now her home. But, honestly, she had to put aside any thoughts of running into old dance-community members and see her father. It was important.
“I’ll come visit. Don’t worry about taking days off. I’ll go to the restaurant with you. I’ve never done that before. Would that be okay?”
Her father cheered. “Of course! This makes me so happy. Send me your break schedule, and I’ll send you a ticket, okay?”
“Sounds good. Talk to you soon, Dad.”
“Bye, chutki.”
She hung up and passed the phone to her mother. Then, without another word, she took out a small container of cubed paneer that she’d drained and dried, along with a small bowl filled with a mustard-yellow batter.
“I thought you didn’t want to go back to Chicago ever,” her mother said. “In fact, you’ve fought with me multiple times about this.”
“I don’t want to move back to Chicago, but Dad is there.” She’d made fried paneer yesterday as an experiment with the air fryer. She hadn’t planned on repeating the same recipe, but she was in a pink nightie on a Friday, and she’d just been kissed. Her circumstances called for fried cheese.
“Well, I don’t think you should go, Radha.”
“What? Mom, yesterday you were ready to send me back there permanently. Now that I am willing to visit, you’ve changed your mind?”
Sujata crossed her arms over her chest. “Your father doesn’t have the time to watch you. This has become the best place for you until we can make sure you’ve learned how to manage your anxiety.”
Giddiness danced in her stomach. She doubted her mother would keep the same opinion for long, but it bought her some time. “I’m sure I’ll be fine by the time I get on the plane for Christmas break. Besides, my biggest worry was seeing my old dance peers, and I’ll definitely be staying away from them when I’m at Dad’s house.”
“Radha,” her mother said with a sigh. “They never mattered.”
It was true, Radha thought. The gossipmongers didn’t matter. But being judged fairly for her skills, and not for her mother’s affair, or even her mother’s dance career, did. She couldn’t say that, though. She’d already said too much to her mom.
Radha dropped the paneer cubes into the batter. “Want some?”
“Fried food? Radha. That doesn’t give you enough energy to dance. Oh, wait, you’re not dancing anyway, and you’re throwing your performance career away for Bollywood dancing.”
Radha rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like I’m giving up kathak and joining a circus. Which also wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
She set a single layer of coated paneer in the base of the air-fryer container. “What did you do when you were growing up in India? How could you avoid all this amazing food?”
“Easy,” she said, and sat on one of the barstools. “I was dancing and was on a strict athlete’s diet, pretty much the same as yours should be. When I came here, the comfort food from home wasn’t that easy to find. At least until your father and I married.”
“And he never made it for you?”
Radha’s mother shook her head. “By then I was used to living without it. He made a few other things that I enjoyed, but trust me, our arranged marriage wasn’t based on food.”
She had a wistful smile on her face, and while she enjoyed her memories, which were probably few and far between, Radha sprayed the top of the paneer with cooking oil. After flipping on the machine, she leaned against the counter and wiped her hands.
“Why did you agree to marry each other?”
Her mother’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You had nothing in common. Cooking and dance. They don’t exactly make sense together, right?”
“My baby girl,” Sujata said, reaching out to cup Radha’s cheek. “There were so many other factors that went into our marriage, and just as many that played a part in our separation. Cooking and dancing were the least of our problems. Sometimes, passions don’t have to make sense together. Sometimes they just have to…exist.”
Radha nodded, remembering the letter her father had sent her with the recipe notebook. If dance was no longer her passion, then she had to find another. It didn’t have to make sense, though.
However, she was learning that dance was something she was still passionate about.
“I guess both you and Dad are inside me. Right?”
“Right.”
As Radha checked on the paneer, her thoughts went to Jai. He existed in a space where dance was one of his passions, but so was biology. The only difference was that he knew which one he wanted to pursue professionally, and which one gave him joy. Radha was still clueless.
They sat in silence while Radha cleaned the bowls and the countertop. When the fryer finally beeped, Radha pulled out perfectly browned pieces of cheese.
“Yes!” she cheered. Her headache, the one that had lingered after her panic attack, was nearly gone. Paneer was like a medicinal miracle. Well, except to vegans and lactose-intolerant people, she guessed.
One by one, she put the pieces on a plate.
“Baby girl, can I talk to you about something?”
Radha looked up at her mother from across the counter. “Yeah?”
“How would you feel if…if I started dating?”
“D-dating?” Okay, not what she expected her mother to say. “I don’t exactly have hopes that you and Dad are going to get together again. I mean, after what happened, we have to move forward. Is there someone at work? Please, God, don’t tell me it’s your spin instructor.”
Sujata chuckled. “No, definitely not. It’s Tarun Bhosle. He—”
“Was a judge during London classics,” Radha said, her jaw dropping. There it was. The feeling of betrayal. “He was the one who…”
“Yes. I’ve known him for years. We danced together.”
“You told me, but are…Are you serious?”
Her mother nodded. “Tarun and I connected online prior to us even flying to London. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I would never date a judge for you to win. That was not what
happened. You’re the best. You’re a prodigy, a shining star in your generation. The whole kathak community knows you. You don’t need anyone’s help.”
But she’d never know that for a fact, would she? That was what hurt the most, and what Radha couldn’t get over. Now no one would know if she was truly the best.
“Is this guy in the US now?”
“No, we’re long-distance. He writes me emails, and maybe I’ll go see him after you’re done with high school, but only if that’s okay with you. I, uh, I already spoke to your father, and we’re making peace with each other about it. But your opinion means the most to me.”
If her opinion meant the most to Sujata, Radha thought, then her mother would listen to her when she spoke her mind. “Okay. I mean, if it makes you happy.”
“He does,” Radha’s mother said. “We have shared history. And we’re older now.”
Radha snorted. “A lot older.”
“Radha!”
“What?” She didn’t know why she found it so funny, but Radha laughed. It wasn’t like she could do anything about her mother’s decision other than crack up about it. Also, maybe this guy would keep Sujata occupied long enough for Radha to finish her choreography for the Winter Showcase. It was probably selfish of her to think that way, but her mother needed to focus on more things than Radha and dance.
She picked up the plate with the fried paneer and put it on the kitchen island between them. “Mom? I’ll give you my blessing if you do one thing.”
Her mother’s eyes brightened with hope. “Yes. Anything.”
Radha picked up a paneer cube. “Eat this. The whole thing.”
“Are you serious?”
Radha nodded. “And you can’t spit it out.”
Sujata glared but took the cube. She stared at it, disgusted, before taking a small bite. Her mouth moved as she chewed, and then her throat worked with a swallow.
“Happy?” she said.
“The whole thing.”
Radha grinned at her mother’s miserable expression.
“I’m only doing this because I care,” Sujata said.
“And I’m only daring you so you’ll remember how hard it is to make someone else happy. Hopefully, we don’t have to do that for each other anymore. Want another?”
“No way.”
Radha popped a cube in her mouth. “More for me. Now, about my trip to see Dad.”
Chapter Thirteen
JAI
RADHA: Hey, I’m sorry I jilted you like that last night.
JAI: Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?
RADHA: No. You were awesome. You were great. I just panicked.
JAI: Yikes. The kiss was that bad?
RADHA: Lol. No, it was perfect.
JAI: So…do you still feel the same?
RADHA: Yeah. You?
JAI: Yeah. I want to take you out. Like on a date.
RADHA: I’d like that too.
JAI: Awesome. How about tonight?
RADHA: Okay.
JAI: I’ll pick you up. Radha? Wear something you can dance in.
Jai sent Radha a quick text that he was parked at the curb. She’d told him she’d come out to the car in case her mom was in the house.
He could respect that. At this point, he’d do whatever she asked. He hadn’t been able to sleep, thinking he’d done something that had scared her. He’d played the kiss over and over in his head for hours, picking it apart. He dipped her, his mouth met hers, she kissed him back, it felt amazing, and then, in true Bollywood fashion, it began to rain. When he pulled away for a breath, she bolted.
No, that wasn’t exactly true.
She went bug-eyed and then bolted. He’d barely backed up enough before she was speeding toward the exit.
It had taken all his willpower not to call her or text her a gazillion times. And then her text had come in. She’d said she wasn’t going anywhere. She’d said she liked him back, and he trusted her. Radha was different.
She was also incredibly forgiving for the way that he’d kept her at a distance. He’d thought it was best for both of them, but really, it had only hurt her, and that was the last thing Jai wanted.
He heard the sound of a door opening and saw Radha appear in a pair of black jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater. Her hair was in one of those high ponytails, and she wore ballroom heels. He’d never seen her in ballroom heels before.
Jai remembered just in time to get out of the car and open the passenger door for her.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She smiled shyly and slipped into the passenger seat.
Smooth, Jai. Really smooth. He rounded the hood and got in the driver’s seat. “Uh, you look great.”
“Thanks.” She fumbled with the seat belt. “You said to wear something I can dance in. Is this okay?”
“You’re perfect. I mean—you look perfect. Your clothes are perfect. And your shoes. Ballroom shoes, right? The weather’s not bad, so your feet won’t get cold. If they do, we can leave. Whenever you want. Hey, how about we get going?”
She smiled, her fingers twisting together with the nerves he felt. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”
He merged onto the local roads that would take them straight to the downtown area. A full two minutes passed in silence before he blurted out, “I scared you.”
“You didn’t,” she said. From the corner of his eye he saw her hesitate, and he almost swallowed his tongue when she rested a hand on his knee. “You know I have attacks. Not scared at all. It was all in my head.”
“Okay. So, hypothetically…” His pulse sped up. “If I, uh, kiss you good night. Would you be okay with that?”
She jerked her hand back, and he felt the ghost imprint of where she’d touched him.
“Hypothetically,” she said, “I’d be okay with it. But if I panic again, I promise I won’t run. My mom shoved my emergency inhaler in my bag, so I’ll suck down a couple gulps and probably ask you to try again. Oh my God. I can’t believe I said that. I’d ask you only if I haven’t completely freaked you out.”
“No, not at all. No freaking out over here. I guess we’re just going to have to get to the point where you’re not…you know. Panicking.”
“Wait, how do you propose we do that?”
“Practice.”
She gasped and let out a bubbling laugh.
It had been way too long since he’d heard her laugh, and even though they were new friends, he’d missed that sound.
“Come on. We’re almost there.”
They parked on Nassau Street, a couple of blocks from their final destination. Jai opened her door for her, then took a backpack from his trunk. He slung it onto his shoulder, ignoring the curious expression on her face. In an effort to distract her, and hopefully ease some of the tension in his shoulders, he clasped her hand in his and led her down the sidewalk. When she linked fingers with him, he felt the softness of her grip against his callused one.
He used to worry that Tara hated his calluses, but Radha wouldn’t mind. He knew that.
They strolled a block and a half until they reached their destination: Princeton Burgers, one of the best downtown burgers-and-fries places. Jai led Radha to the counter and motioned to the extensive menu. “I know this is not exactly the same as all the awesome food you’ve been cooking, but I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m not an expert in fast food, but this looks pretty good.”
He pointed to the first two options. “Honestly, basic is best. Either of those are my favorites but pick whatever you want. Oh, and the cheesy tots. And the milkshakes. I think we should get all three.”
“That sounds pretty ambitious,” she said, smiling up at him.
“We can handle it.”
“O
kay, well, then why don’t you go first? I’ll follow your lead.”
He greeted the woman behind the counter. “Double bacon cheeseburger with cheesy Tater Tots and a chocolate ripple milkshake, please. To go.”
“To go?” Radha asked. “We’re not eating here?”
He shook his head. “But don’t worry, we’ll have a chance to sit.”
“Okay, I’m curious now.” She ordered a plain cheeseburger and tots with a vanilla shake. A few minutes later they carried their food out and started down the street again. She was quiet.
“What is it?”
“What is what?” she asked.
He nudged her arm. “I know you can’t still be nervous. Are you?”
Under the dark skin of her cheeks, he could tell that she blushed. “I just keep waiting to see if you’re going to ask me about what happened in January.”
And there it was. The reason for the fidgeting, he thought.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She picked up a Tater Tot dipped in cheese. “What if I do?”
“Then I’ll listen.”
They turned a corner and entered an area the downtown used for outdoor movie nights. A projector was set up in the distance, and people were lounging on chairs and blankets on the grass. There was a parquet floor in front of the projector, bracketed by two speakers.
“Welcome,” he said, “to Bollywood Movie Night!”
Radha’s face lit up. “This is the film club’s project, right? Winnie told me she used to do this when she was president.”
“Every week. Tonight, the theme is best Bollywood couples’ dances. We’re watching two movies back to back.”
“Two?” She gaped at him.
“Don’t worry, they’re abridged. We’re not sitting through six hours of Hindi cinema.”
“Ah, okay, that makes more sense.”
Jai set down his backpack and handed her his food. In a few moments he had a blanket laid out. He helped her get comfortable on the grass next to him.
“Now,” he said. The movie was starting, but they were far enough to the side that they could still have a conversation. “What were we talking about?”
