Counting Down with You(72)

I nod my agreement and head toward the living room to put on the movie. I make the active choice to leave my phone behind.

As I’m walking down the stairs, Samir climbs up them, and I avert my gaze. In the corner of my eye, I see a bewildered expression on his face, but I keep going without a word.

I’ve been avoiding Samir since yesterday. I don’t know what to say to him, how to explain this rising resentment. At the end of the day, I know most of the blame lies on my parents, but he still told them. I don’t know how to get past it.

When Dadu comes back, her expression is exhausted.

I falter. “Who were you talking to?”

She sighs. “Nabila. She’s having a rough time.”

Of course. I’m not even remotely surprised Dadu still reaches out to my estranged cousin, even though the whole family was supposed to cut her off.

I never doubted Dadu for a moment, but knowing she’s willing to put aside traditional beliefs in order to support Nabila is a huge relief. I’m glad Nabila has that.

Selfishly, I’m also glad to know all of us, no matter what happens, will always have Dadu in our corner.

Dadu and I curl up together on the couch, and she counts off beads on her misbaha as she hums along to some of the songs.

Halfway through the film, when Belle and Beast are in the library, Dadu glances at me. “You know, back in Bangladesh, I used to have shelves overflowing with books, too.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Yes,” Dadu says. “I remember wishing I could read forever. Your Dada and I would read to your dad and your uncles when they were younger. It was the only way we could get them to fall asleep. They’d always ask for more. Stories are such beautiful things.”

“They are,” I say in agreement, leaning my head against her bony shoulder. “I love them. Sometimes I wish I could read Bengali so I could read your books, too.”

Dadu squeezes my hand. “You remind me so much of myself when I was younger.”

“No way,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re way too cool.”

Dadu laughs but it’s a dismal sound. She must still feel bad from yesterday. I wish she wouldn’t. “You’re cool, Myra. And you’re so smart. You have so many books, I’m worried you’ll need a second room just to store them all.”

I nod seriously. “Let’s kick Samir out. His room can become a library.”

“Myra,” she says, exasperated. “We’re not kicking Samir out. I just wanted you to know I’m so proud of you. You’re becoming such an amazing woman.”

“Dadu, stop,” I say, cheeks warming. “You’re too nice.”

“I’m being serious. Every day, I grow more proud of you. You work so hard.”

It’s near midnight, but hearing her praise makes me feel like I’m basking in sunlight. “I don’t know about all that.”

“I do,” Dadu says. “You’re like Belle. Brave, beautiful, and smart. I’m lucky to have you as my granddaughter.”

“You have to say that,” I say, ducking my head. “You’re my grandma.”

“I’d be proud of you even if I wasn’t your grandma. I hope you know I’ll always support you no matter what.”

I look at her and think about the conversation we had last night. I think about the conversation we had just a little earlier, about Nabila. I think about all the conversations I’ve been having with my friends. I think about all the conversations I’ve had with Ace. About my past and my future.

Maybe...maybe if Dadu supports me, there’s hope. Maybe she can talk to my dad and he can talk to my mom, maybe, maybe, maybe. Just maybe.

“Dadu,” I say slowly, focusing on her lap, rather than her face. “What if I don’t want to be a doctor?”

She stops counting her beads. “You don’t want to be a doctor?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m not good at science.”

“But do you like it? You don’t have to be good at it. Practice makes perfect.”

I shake my head. “I don’t.”

There’s a beat of silence and I tense, waiting for her to tell me I’m being immature and ridiculous. Except, all she says is, “What do you want to do then, Myra?”

“I don’t know,” I say again. “I really love English. Maybe I could be a teacher or something.”

“Oh. English. That makes sense,” Dadu says, her tone thoughtful. I chance a glance at her and find her staring at me in consideration. “Have you talked to your parents?”

I grimace. “I brought it up briefly, months ago. It didn’t go well.”

“Are you set on your decision?” Dadu pauses the movie to give me her full attention.

Set on my decision? I haven’t made a decision. “I don’t know,” I say, once again. I sound like an indecisive airhead, but thankfully Dadu is still looking at me seriously. “I...don’t want to be a doctor.”

Dadu looks at me for a long time before taking a deep breath, as if she’s bracing herself. “Okay. Do you want to tell your parents? We can figure it out together.”

The painful relief that hits me is the best punch to the stomach I’ve ever felt. I would happily let someone hit me over and over if it felt like this. “You’re not mad?”