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By the 3rd time Samira’s asked whether Jack’s coming to Deepavali, she begins to suspect that there's been a family meeting she wasn’t invited to.
The first inquiry comes from Kaaviya, which Samira dismisses because Kaaviya has been asking questions about Jack with the relentless focus of a teenager much too engaged in someone elses life since the dinner several months earlier when Samira, backed into a corner after casually telling her family that she'd found someone to accompany her to a family gathering, had made the mistake of asking Jack.
It hadn’t been a date.
At least, that's what Samira told herself then, and it remains what she tells herself now.
It had simply been easier than explaining to her family that she had mentioned having a date because Kaaviya wouldn’t stop teasing her about never bringing anyone around, after which Samira had realized she actually needed to produce a human being if she wanted the lie to survive more than 24 hours. Jack'd been there when she reached the point of desperation in the parking garage.
She'd expected him to laugh, she had expected him to hit a quick 'pfft' in her general direction and ask after the fact as to what she genuinely wanted to ask but the laugh never came.
Instead, after listening to the entire humiliating explanation, Jack had simply asked, "When?"
That should've been the first warning, with the second being how quickly he said yes after she told him.
The third had been the fact that he had somehow charmed every single member of her family without appearing to make any special effort.
Ravi had liked him because Jack listened when he talked and never once pretended to know something he didn't. Anjali had liked him because of genuine hospitality of her carrying dishes into the kitchen without being asked, complimenting her cooking specifically instead of generically, and somehow managed to answer invasive family questions without becoming visibly uncomfortable. Priya had decided he was “quiet but funny,” which from her aunt was essentially an endorsement worthy of political office. Arjun had discovered Jack knew enough about baseball to hold a conversation, and Kaaviya had spent most of the evening watching the two of them like she had been personally assigned to gather evidence.
By the end of dinner, Jack had been invited back.
Samira had not been consulted.
Now, months later, apparently the family had upgraded him from invited guest to expected participant.
Kaaviya is the first to bring it up during a Sunday afternoon phone call.
“So Jack's coming to Deepavali, right?”
Samira, who's standing in her kitchen trying to decide whether an avocado that feels suspiciously soft can still be salvaged, stops squeezing it. “What?”
“Deepavali.”
“I know what Deepavali is.”
“I would hope so.”
Samira puts the avocado down. “Why are you asking me about Jack?”
“Because he's coming.”
“That wasn't a question.”
“It was originally.”
“No, it absolutely was not.”
Kaaviya makes an impatient noise. “Fine. Is he coming or not?”
“I haven't asked him.”
Silence.
Samira pulls the phone away from her ear and looks at the screen to make sure the call hasn't dropped. “Hello?”
“You haven't asked him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't know I was responsible for his holiday schedule.”
“He came to dinner.”
“That doesn't automatically enroll him in all future family events.”
“It should.”
“Kaaviya.”
“I'm just saying everyone likes him.”
“I'm painfully aware.”
“And you like him.”
Samira closes her eyes. “We're not doing this.”
“I didn't say romantically.”
“You absolutely meant romantically.”
“I mean both ways.”
“Goodbye.”
“Wait. Mom wants to know too.”
“Tell Priya no one's asked him yet.”
“Uncle Ravi does too.”
Samira pauses, because of all the people that she would love the validation from, her uncle's definitely there.
Her uncle had spent almost an hour talking to Jack after dinner about everything from Pittsburgh traffic to hospital administration to whether modern baseball pitchers were becoming too specialized. By the end of the evening, Ravi had clapped Jack on the shoulder and told him in theor garden, with the solemnity of a man conferring family membership, that he was welcome anytime.
Samira'd been horrified, Jack had looked pleased.
“Why does Uncle Ravi care?” she asks.
“Because he likes Jack.”
“He's met him once.”
“He said Jack has sense.”
Samira grimaces. “That sounds exactly like something he'd say.”
“And Arjun said he needs someone else there who understands football.”
“Jack barely follows football.”
“He apparently follows enough.”
“Fantastic.”
“And Auntie Anjali asked too.”
Samira straightens. “My mother?”
“Yes.”
That's different.
Kaaviya can make anything into entertainment while Priya's naturally hospitable. Ravi adopts people after 20 minutes if they display acceptable character. Nila had been a great addition to the day and Arjun mostly wants someone willing to debate sports with him.
Anjali doesn't casually ask whether men are attending family celebrations with Samira.
Anjali notices everything and comments selectively, which's significantly more dangerous.
“What did she say?” Samira asks cautiously.
Kaaviya’s tone shifts immediately into imitation. “‘Is Dr. Abbot joining us for Deepavali? He seemed like a nice man.’”
Samira presses her fingers against her forehead.
“You're enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
“Why are all of you like this?”
“Family?”
“Affliction.”
Kaaviya laughs. “Just ask him.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I'm not inviting a coworker to Deepavali because my family has formed some strange attachment to him.”
“You invited him to dinner.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Samira opens her mouth but nothing useful comes out.
Kaaviya waits with all the pretentiousness of a 17 year old that has made an excellent point with a one worded question. After some time Samira can basically imagine her cousin displaying a smile so devious that the Cheshire Cat would take tips on. “Exactly,” she says.
Samira hangs up on her.
Unfortunately, Kaaviya isn't the end of it.
Priya sends a message the following morning asking whether she should account for “one extra adult” when planning food.
Samira replies that she has no idea what she's talking about.
Priya responds with Jack’s name.
Samira doesn't answer.
2 hours later, Nile texts her a photograph of a beer he apparently intends to have available for Jack, accompanied by the sentence, Tell Abbott I remembered what he likes.
Samira stares at the message for several seconds.
She doesn't remember Jack ever telling Arjun what beer he likes, apparently the two of them had an entire conversation she missed.
Then Ravi calls.
That's when she begins to understand that resistance may be futile.
“You're working?” Ravi asks after she answers.
“I'm walking into work right now.”
“I'll be quick.”
That phrase has never once been true when spoken by a family member. Samira swipes her badge at the employee entrance. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. Your aunt says you haven't answered about Deepavali.”
Samira stops in the hallway. “Are we seriously doing a coordinated campaign?”
“What campaign?”
“The Jack campaign.”
Ravi laughs. “There's no campaign.”
“There's absolutely a campaign.”
“I only asked whether he's coming.”
“You, Priya, Kaaviya, and Nila have all asked.”
“Well, then there must be a reason.”
“There is. None of you understand boundaries.”
“Samira.”
She sighs.
Ravi’s voice softens into the tone he has used with her since childhood whenever he wants to make clear that teasing has given way to sincerity. “He seemed comfortable with us.”
The comment catches her slightly off guard. “Yes,” she says after a moment.
“And you seemed comfortable with him.”
That catches her harder. Samira looks down the hallway toward the emergency department. “We work together.”
“That wasn't what I said.”
“Uncle Ravi.”
“I'm not asking you anything you don't want to answer.”
Which, frustratingly, is true. He continues, “I only mean he's welcome, that's all. If you want him there, ask him.”
Samira presses her lips together. “I'll think about it.”
“Good.”
“That wasn't a yes.”
“I know.”
She hears the smile in his voice anyway. Then, predictably, Anjali calls that evening.
Samira's already at work by then, halfway through a shift that has been irritating rather than catastrophic. She's eating yogurt at a workstation while reviewing a chart when her phone vibrates.
Mom.
She considers ignoring it, she knows better. “Hi.”
“Are you busy?”
“Always.”
“I can call later.”
“No, it's fine. What is it?”
There's a pause. Samira knows exactly what's coming, she closes her eyes.
“Is Jack coming to Deepavali?”
There it is. “Mom.”
“What?”
“You too?”
“Me too what?”
“Everyone keeps asking me this.”
Anjali sounds amused. “Maybe because no one knows the answer.”
“The answer is that I haven't asked him.”
“Why not?”
Samira stares at the emergency department board as though it might offer rescue.
“Because he isn't my boyfriend.”
“I didn't say he was.”
“You didn't have to.”
“I asked whether he was coming to a festival.”
“You asked very specifically.”
“He enjoyed dinner.”
Samira can't argue with that.
Jack had enjoyed dinner. She knew because he told her afterward, and Jack didn't often say things merely to be polite. On the drive back from her aunt and uncle’s house, he'd admitted that he liked her family. He'd said it simply while staring through the windshield.
They're loud.
Samira had laughed. That's your diplomatic way of saying overwhelming?
No. I liked it. He'd glanced at her then, briefly.
I liked seeing you with them.
She'd thought about that sentence more than she cared to admit.
Now her mother continues, “Your uncle likes him.”
“I've been informed.”
“Priya likes him.”
“I know.”
“Kaaviya clearly likes him.”
“She likes creating problems.”
“She likes him too.”
“Unfortunately.”
“And I liked him.”
Samira’s voice softens despite herself. “I know.”
Anjali goes quiet for a moment. Then she says, “He looks at you kindly.”
Samira’s entire body stills. There are statements a person can dismiss, but that isn't one of them. “What?”
“When you were at dinner.”
“Mom.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You're saying something now.”
“I'm telling you what I noticed.”
Samira lowers her voice automatically as someone walks past the workstation. “There's nothing to notice.”
“Maybe.”
The single word contains more skepticism than an entire argument.
“Mom.”
“I'm not interfering.”
Samira almost laughs. “You're calling me specifically to ask whether a man's coming to Deepavali.”
“Because I need to know how much food.”
“There's always enough food for 30 extra people.”
“That isn't relevant.”
“It's extremely relevant.”
Anjali laughs softly.
Then she says, “Ask him if you want him there.”
Again, the same phrasing Ravi used.
Not ask him because we want him there.
Ask him if you want him there.
Samira hates that both of them know her well enough to make the distinction.
“I have to go,” she says.
“All right.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And stop conspiring with Kaaviya.”
“No promises.”
Samira disconnects and puts her phone face down on the workstation.
“What did Kaaviya do?”
Jack’s voice appears beside her with enough suddenness that Samira almost knocks over her yogurt.
She turns.
He's standing there holding two charts, one eyebrow raised.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to hear Kaaviya’s name used in an accusatory tone.”
“That doesn't narrow anything down.”
“No.”
He places one chart beside her. “Room 9's ready for discharge.”
Samira takes it. “Thanks.”
Jack looks at her, she looks at him.
Without anything else to say, he starts to walk away.
“Jack.”
He turns.
The invitation should be easy.
She's invited coworkers to things before. Birthday dinners. Hospital events. Group outings. It shouldn't feel different simply because this is Deepavali, because this is her family, because he's already met them, because her mother noticed the way he looked at her before Samira had even let herself wonder about it.
She forces the words out before she can reconsider. “Do you have plans next Saturday?”
Jack answers immediately. “No.”
Too quickly.
Samira notices.
His expression changes slightly, as though he realizes he answered before hearing the rest of the question.
She folds her arms. “You didn't even ask why.”
“You asked if I had plans.”
“People generally wait for context before sounding that available.”
“Do you want me to pretend to check my calendar?”
“No.”
“I can.”
“Don't.”
The corner of his mouth shifts.
Samira exhales. “My family is doing Deepavali next weekend.”
Jack’s expression changes almost imperceptibly, definitely interested.
Immediately.
“Oh.”
“They wanted me to ask if you wanted to come.”
It's technically true, cowardly, but true.
Jack doesn't answer for approximately half a second. “Yeah.”
Samira blinks. “Yeah?”
“I'd like to.”
“That was suspiciously fast.”
“You asked me.”
“I know, but you could consider it.”
“I considered it.”
“For less than a second.”
“I'm efficient.”
She narrows her eyes.
Jack shrugs lightly. “I liked your family.”
“They liked you too. Apparently too much.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
“It's becoming one.”
His smile appears briefly.
Then he says, quieter, “I liked being there with you.”
There it is again, the same phrase from the drive home.
Samira’s chest tightens in an inconvenient way.
Jack, apparently unaware or pretending to be unaware of the effect he has caused, continues, “So yes. I would like to go.”
She looks down at the chart in her hands. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“You should know Kaaviya will probably interrogate you.”
“I survived her once.”
“She has had months to prepare new material.”
“I'll take the risk.”
“Ravi will trap you in another conversation.”
“He's interesting.”
“Arjun is apparently buying alcohol specifically for you.”
Jack frowns. “Why?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
He thinks. “We talked about beer.”
“Of course you did.”
“And your mom?”
Samira glances at him. “What about her?”
“Does she want me there?”
Something about his tone changes.
It's almost imperceptible, but Samira hears it. For all his confidence professionally, for all his dry humor and stubbornness, there's something strangely careful in the question.
She thinks about Anjali saying, He looks at you kindly.
“Yes,” Samira says. “She does.”
Jack nods.
He seems pleased.
Much too pleased.
Samira notices that too.
The following week becomes unexpectedly entertaining.
Jack asks exactly three questions about Deepavali, all practical.
What time should he arrive?
Is there anything he should bring?
Is there anything specific he should wear?
Samira answers the first easily and struggles with the other two because every suggestion suddenly feels too intimate.
“You don't need to bring anything.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It is.”
“It's what people say when they expect you to understand you should bring something.”
“You've met my family once and already decoded them.”
“Your aunt sent me home with three containers of food.”
“That means she approves of you.”
“I gathered.”
“So bring flowers if you desperately need something.”
“For your aunt?”
Samira pauses. “And my mother.”
Jack nods like he's storing mission critical information.
“As for clothes,” she says, “you can wear something nice. You don't need traditional clothes.”
“Would that be inappropriate?”
“No.”
“Then why'd you say it like that?”
“Because you're going to turn this into homework.”
“I'm asking one question.”
“You're absolutely going to research this.”
Jack looks offended.
Samira points at him. “Don't overthink it.”
He doesn't promise.
On Saturday evening, Jack arrives at Priya and Ravi’s house 12 minutes early with 2 bouquets of flowers and a box from a local Indian sweet shop that Samira recognizes immediately.
She stares at him when she opens the door. “You researched.”
Jack looks down at himself.
He has chosen a dark kurta, simple and well fitted, understated enough not to look costume like or performative by any means. Samira has no idea where he found it or who helped him choose it, but the effect is so unexpectedly good that for one brief, humiliating second she forgets how speech works.
Jack notices her staring, his mouth curves slightly. “What?”
Samira recovers. “You researched.”
“You told me not to overthink it.”
“This is absolutely overthinking.”
“I bought clothes.”
“You bought a kurta.”
“It seemed appropriate.”
“It is.”
“Then I fail to see the problem.”
The problem is that he looks annoyingly good, but Samira refuses to say that.
Jack glances at her properly then and stops.
That's when she realizes she isn't the only one struggling.
Samira's wearing a deep green silk sari with gold detailing that Anjali helped her pin less than 20 minutes earlier, along with earrings her grandmother gave her years ago. Her hair is down, pulled partially back from her face, and Kaaviya insisted on helping with her makeup despite Samira repeatedly reminding her that she's an adult capable of applying eyeliner.
Jack simply stares, not rudely because that'll probably be easier.
He looks at her with an expression that becomes softer the longer it stays there, his eyes moving over her face before briefly taking in the sari and returning immediately to her eyes.
Samira feels heat rise beneath her skin. “You okay?” she asks.
Jack blinks. “Yes.” A beat passes. “You look…” He stops.
Samira lifts an eyebrow.
Jack, who can explain complicated medical procedures during emergencies without losing his place, apparently can't complete one uncomplicated sentence.
“You look beautiful.”
The directness catches her off guard.
She looks away first. “Thank you.”
His gaze remains on her.
“You look nice too,” she manages.
“Nice.”
She hears the dry amusement.
“Don't push it.”
“I would never.”
“You constantly do.”
Before Jack can answer, Kaaviya appears behind Samira.
“Oh my God.”
Samira closes her eyes.
Kaaviya looks between them once and immediately understands everything. Her grin becomes unbearable. “You came.”
Jack lifts the box of sweets slightly. “I was invited.”
Kaaviya looks at Samira. “And she looks beautiful?”
Jack, apparently having decided there's no point retreating, says calmly, “Yes.”
Samira turns sharply toward him.
Kaaviya gasps.
“You answered that so fast.”
Jack looks at her. “Was there a correct amount of hesitation?”
“No. This is perfect.”
“Kaaviya.”
“I'm going.”
“You should.”
Kaaviya disappears into the house and immediately yells, “JACK IS HERE.”
Samira covers her face with one hand.
Jack starts laughing.
“This is your fault,” she tells him.
“I've been here 30 seconds.”
“Exactly.”
The next several minutes are consumed by greetings.
Priya appears first and hugs Jack before he seems fully prepared for it, then immediately compliments his kurta and takes the sweets from him while insisting he shouldn't have brought anything.
Jack shoots Samira a look that clearly says I told you so.
Samira ignores it.
Ravi arrives next and claps Jack on the shoulder, clearly delighted. “You came.”
“I said I would.”
“Good man.”
Samira watches Jack accept this declaration with absurd seriousness.
Arjun appears shortly afterward, already holding a drink, and points at Jack’s clothes. “Look at you.”
Jack looks down. “Is that good?”
“Very good.”
“Thank you.”
Then Anjali steps into the hallway. Her gaze moves first to Samira, then to Jack, then, crucially, back to Samira.
Samira sees the exact moment her mother notices something.
She doesn't know what it is and a apart of her doesn't want to know what.
Jack holds out one of the bouquets. “These are for you.”
Anjali’s expression softens immediately. “That was very thoughtful.”
“And the others are for Priya.”
“Also thoughtful.”
Samira can practically hear her mother adding columns to an invisible ledger.
Jack's ushered inside before he can recover.
The house is warm and bright, filled with family members, music, food, candles, lamps, and the layered conversations of people who haven't seen each other recently enough. Diyas glow along surfaces throughout the house, and strands of lights frame windows and doorways. The air smells like cardamom, fried snacks, incense, and something sweet coming from the kitchen.
Jack takes it in slowly and all Samira can do is watch him.
There's curiosity in his face but not discomfort. He asks questions when appropriate, listens to the answers, and follows Samira’s lead without making her feel responsible for translating every moment. When Ravi explains something about the family’s usual traditions, Jack pays attention. When Priya presses food into his hands 10 minutes after he arrives, he accepts it rather than insisting he isn't hungry. When one of Samira’s older relatives asks how long he and Samira have known each other, he answers without looking panicked.
“Several years.”
“And you work together?”
“Yes.”
“Closely?”
Jack glances across the room at Samira.
“Sometimes very closely.”
Samira nearly inhales her drink.
Kaaviya, standing nearby, immediately looks at her.
Samira points a warning finger without speaking.
Kaaviya grins.
The evening moves naturally after that.
Jack joins Ravi and Nile in conversation near the dining room. He tries everything Priya puts on his plate, including one dish she warns him is spicy, which he claims is fine before quietly drinking an entire glass of water.
Samira catches him doing it.
“You can admit defeat.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're sweating.”
“It's warm in here.”
“It isn't.”
Jack narrows his eyes.
Samira smiles. “You don't have to impress anyone.”
“I'm not.”
“You're absolutely trying to impress my family.”
“I thought they already liked me.”
“They do.”
“Then I have nothing to prove.”
“That's what I am saying.”
Jack leans slightly closer. “Maybe I'm trying to impress you.”
Samira’s expression changes before she can stop it.
Jack seems to realize what he said at exactly the same moment.
Neither of them moves.
Then Nile calls Jack’s name from the other room, breaking whatever was forming.
Jack clears his throat. “Apparently I'm needed.”
“Apparently.”
He walks away.
Samira remains where she is for several seconds.
Kaaviya materializes beside her.
Samira doesn't even look over. “Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You're vibrating.”
“That man just openly flirted with you in my mother’s living room.”
“My aunt’s living room.”
“That's what you're correcting?”
Samira takes a drink.
Kaaviya leans closer. “You're so screwed.”
“Go bother someone.”
“But they wont have romantic tension.”
“Neither do I.”
Kaaviya looks toward Jack, then at Samira, then back toward Jack. "If you tell yourself that enough times I mean, I don't know I guess you could end up believing it.”
As the evening progresses, Samira relaxes despite herself.
That's probably why she doesn't notice what everyone else begins noticing.
Jack looks at her, constantly.
Not in a way obvious enough to embarrass her if pointed out directly, but frequently enough that once Kaaviya catches it, she can't stop seeing it.
When Samira crosses the room carrying a tray, Jack’s attention follows. When she kneels near the children to help them arrange small candles safely, he watches her smile at something one of them says.
When she disappears into the kitchen, his eyes flick toward the doorway several seconds later, checking where she went. When she reappears beside Anjali, laughing at something her mother whispers, Jack goes completely still for a moment.
Kaaviya sees every single instance.
At first she assumes she's imagining it because she wants to be right. Then she notices something more damning.
Jack doesn't stare when Samira's looking at him, he looks when she isn't and that changes everything.
Kaaviya finds Anjali near the dining table arranging sweets on a serving platter. “Auntie,” she whispers.
Anjali glances at her. “What?”
Kaaviya subtly points with her eyes. “Watch Jack.”
Anjali looks across the room.
Jack's speaking with Ravi. Samira walks behind them carrying a small stack of plates. Jack’s gaze shifts immediately.
His conversation doesn't stop, he doesn't turn his body, he only follows Samira with his eyes for 2 seconds before returning his attention to Ravi.
Anjali’s brows lift slightly.
Kaaviya looks triumphant. “See?”
Anjali says nothing.
“Do you see?”
“I see you watching people who don't know they're being watched.”
“That isn't the point.”
“Kaaviya.”
“Look again.”
Anjali tries not to, she fails.
Several minutes later, Samira's helping Priya near the entryway. She pushes loose hair behind one ear and says something that makes Priya laugh.
Jack looks over.
This time his expression changes, that's what Anjali notices.
It isn't attraction alone, though that's there. Any mother with eyes can identify when a man finds her daughter beautiful. Jack’s expression's quieter than that.
Fondness, recognition, the unconscious softness of someone looking at a person who's become important before he has decided what to call that importance.
Anjali glances at Kaaviya.
Her niece’s entire face screams I told you.
“Don't say anything,” Anjali whispers.
Kaaviya looks offended. “I have restraint.”
Anjali gives her a look. “Sometimes.”
Later, the family gathers outside and near the open back area, where the evening air has cooled enough to make people draw shawls closer around themselves. There are a couple of more lights, more conversation, and occasional distant pops from fireworks elsewhere in the neighborhood. The children are excited. Adults cluster in shifting groups with plates and drinks.
Samira stands near the steps, looking out at the lights.
Jack comes up beside her.
“You having a good time?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“You survived the food.”
“Barely.”
She laughs. “I told you.”
“You undersold it.”
“I said it was spicy.”
“You said, ‘You'll be fine.’”
“You were fine.”
“I temporarily lost feeling in my face.”
“You're being dramatic.”
Jack looks at her.
“You know, your family's beginning to influence you.”
“That's offensive.”
“I meant the dramatic part.”
“Still offensive.”
He smiles.
For a while they stand without speaking.
The backyard's full of warmth behind them, but from this angle they're slightly removed from the busiest part of the crowd. Samira can hear her mother talking somewhere behind her. Kaaviya laughs loudly at something Nila says. Ravi's telling a story Samira has heard at least 20 times.
Jack looks around. “I meant it before.”
Samira glances over. “What?”
“When I said I liked this.”
“The festival?”
“Yes. But also…” He gestures faintly toward the house. “This.”
“My family being insane?”
“Your family being your family.”
Samira smiles softly. “They really like you.”
“I noticed.”
“It's becoming inconvenient.”
“For you?”
“Potentially.”
Jack turns slightly toward her. “Why?”
Because now they ask about you. Because my mother notices you. Because Kaaviya watches you watching me. Because you belong here more easily than I expected, and some part of me likes that enough to be afraid of it.
Samira says none of those things.
“Because they'll expect you at everything now.”
Jack’s answer comes with almost no hesitation. “There are worse things in life than being wanted for life events.”
Samira looks at him.
He looks back.
Again, too quickly, too openly. Something settles between them.
Then Kaaviya’s voice explodes from behind them.
“OH MY GOD, YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN.”
Samira jumps.
Jack closes his eyes.
Kaaviya's standing several feet away with Anjali beside her.
Samira stares. “Doing what?”
“Nothing,” Anjali says immediately.
Kaaviya points directly at Jack. “He keeps staring at you. He likes you.”
Samira’s stomach drops.
Jack opens his eyes.
“Kaaviya,” Anjali warns.
“What? He does.”
“Inside,” Samira says.
“I'm already outside.”
“Then go farther outside.”
Kaaviya ignores her.
“He's been doing it all night.”
Jack looks toward Anjali, apparently searching for adult assistance.
Anjali betrays him completely by pressing her lips together to hide a smile.
Samira notices. “Mom?”
Anjali lifts both hands. “I didn't say anything.”
“You're thinking something.”
“I'm always thinking something.”
“Apparently the whole family's conducting surveillance now.”
Kaaviya grins. “It isn't surveillance if he's obvious.”
Jack finally speaks. “I wasn't staring.”
Kaaviya gasps. “You absolutely were.”
“I was looking.”
“At Samira.”
“Yes.”
The immediate answer silences everybody.
Including Samira.
Jack seems to realize that denial would now require dishonesty.
Kaaviya’s eyes widen.
Anjali becomes very interested in adjusting her shawl.
Samira stares at Jack. He looks at her, and this time there's nowhere else for either of them to hide.
Kaaviya whispers, “Wow.”
“Kaaviya,” Anjali says firmly.
“I'm going.”
For once, she actually does.
Anjali lingers half a second longer, she looks at Samira, then at Jack. There's unmistakable warmth in her expression. “Jack,” she says.
“Yes?”
“I am glad you came.”
His posture relaxes slightly. “Thank you for having me.”
“You're welcome anytime.”
Samira closes her eyes. “Mom.”
Anjali smiles and walks away.
Jack watches her go, then he looks at Samira.
“Well.”
“Well?”
“I think your mother likes me.”
“She just adopted you.”
“That seems premature.”
“You don't know her.”
Jack smiles.
Samira folds her arms, though there's no real irritation behind it. “You were staring at me?”
Jack exhales quietly. “I would prefer a different verb.”
“Kaaviya apparently has witnesses.”
“Kaaviya is 17 and deeply committed to chaos.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He looks at her and Samira recognizes the irony immediately. This is exactly the kind of interrogation Kaaviya usually conducts, and now she's doing it herself.
Jack seems to realize that too. “Would it bother you if I was?”
The question changes everything.
Samira’s teasing evaporates. “No.”
Jack’s gaze stays on hers. “No?” he repeats.
“No.”
Something softens in his face. “Okay.”
“That's all you have to say?”
“For now.”
She laughs under her breath. “You're impossible.”
“I've been told.”
Behind them, the family continues celebrating. Someone calls for Samira from the house. Children race past the doorway. Priya complains that people aren't eating enough despite everyone having eaten continuously for hours.
Jack glances toward the noise, then back at Samira. “Thank you for asking me.”
She smiles. “You agreed before I finished the invitation.”
“I knew what my answer was.”
Her chest tightens.
“You really wanted to come that badly?”
Jack looks at her for a long moment. “I wanted to be wherever you were going.”
There's no clever answer to that. Samira feels the words land somewhere far deeper than she wants them to.
Jack looks almost surprised at himself, but he doesn't take them back.
From somewhere inside the house, Kaaviya screams, “I HEARD THAT.”
Samira closes her eyes, Jack laughs.
Anjali’s laughter joins from somewhere farther inside.
Samira shakes her head and starts toward the house.
“I'm putting her up for adoption.”
“She's 17.”
“I'll find a way.”
Jack follows beside her.
At the doorway, Samira pauses and looks back at him.
The lights catch the edges of his face. He looks relaxed in a way she rarely sees at the hospital, surrounded by people who barely know him and have somehow already made room for him anyway.
Her family likes him, her mother likes him, her uncle likes him.
Kaaviya's probably already planning their wedding, which is horrifying and will need to be addressed at some point.
But underneath all of that's something Samira can't laugh away anymore.
She likes him here, not just tolerates him, not just appreciates that he fits.
She likes turning around and finding him beside Ravi. She likes watching him listen to Priya. She likes seeing her mother smile at him. She likes that he wanted to understand instead of merely attend. She likes that when he had the choice between maintaining distance and entering this part of her life, he said yes before she finished asking.
Jack catches her looking at him, his eyebrow rises. “What?”
Samira realizes she's been staring.
She smiles. “Nothing.”
Jack studies her with obvious disbelief.
“That wasn't nothing.”
“No,” she admits.
His expression softens.
Before either of them can say more, Anjali calls from the dining room, “Samira, Jack, come eat before your uncle finishes everything.”
Ravi immediately shouts, “Why am I being blamed?”
Priya answers, “Because we know you.”
Kaaviya yells, “Jack, sit next to Samira.”
Jack laughs again.
Then, without hesitation, he follows her into the house.
Later, after the food and laughter and stories stretch well into the evening, Anjali stands beside Kaaviya while Jack helps Ravi carry something into the kitchen.
Samira's across the room talking with Priya.
Jack comes back through the doorway and his eyes find Samira immediately.
Kaaviya nudges Anjali.
Anjali doesn't need the prompting anymore, she sees it. She watches Jack smile faintly when Samira laughs.
Then she looks at her daughter. Samira turns and catches Jack watching her. Instead of looking away, she smiles back.
Anjali’s expression changes.
There's satisfaction there, but not triumph, something gentler. Hope, perhaps.
Kaaviya whispers, “I told you.”
Anjali nudges her lightly with an elbow. “Leave them alone.”
“For how long?”
“Kaaviya.”
“Fine.”
Across the room, Jack says something to Samira that makes her roll her eyes before she smiles again.
Kaaviya watches for another second.
Then she whispers, mostly to herself, “He's so obviously in love with her.”
This time Anjali doesn't disagree.