Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(84)

“M3?”

“Yeah, Dave,” she said, and cleared her throat. “I’ve been working on it myself a long time, and I’m finally ready.”

“Well, we’ll be there soon.”

After hanging up the phone Kareena scrolled through her recent call log and tapped Prem’s name. “Hey,” she said when he answered.

“You’re canceling,” he replied, his voice deadpan.

“Wait, how did you know?”

“Because the last time you called me, you canceled. Please tell me you’re not going to play Dungeons and Dragons with gamer dude tonight. Or FaceTime with a douchebag. Or drink cinnamon to go to the hospital.”

Kareena snorted. “No more bad dates. Hopefully. I have to stay at the house. Dave is coming to pick up my car. I’m finally done with it, and now the rest of the work has to be done by a garage.”

He let out a low whistle. “Wow. Congratulations. I know you said you were close, but I didn’t realize you were this close. How does it feel?”

Exhilarating. Terrifying. Sad. Giddy. Like she’d lost her purpose.

“I’m . . . okay,” she replied. “I know you’re on call next week and I have to help Bindu. Her fiancé’s family is coming in today. You okay meeting at Bindu’s engagement party?”

There was a long pause. “Are you okay with us telling your family about our future plans at your sister’s party?”

No. Definitely no. “Yes,” she said.

“Okay, well, if you’re sure . . . then we’ll talk every night? I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. The words I love you were on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. “Later.”

“Later.”

She heard pounding down the stairs just as she hung up the phone. She turned, clutching her cell to her chest, just as Bindu’s wild expression greeted her.

“What’s wrong?” Kareena said, taking in Bindu’s hair piled on top of her head and the stained T-shirt that said mathlete champion—northeast regionals on the front.

Bindu’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “There is so much going on, and I completely forgot that I’m supposed to take over halwa tonight to meet Loken’s family! Dadi said I’m supposed to make it for the prayer service they’re having? There isn’t any time! Loken just picked them up from the airport, and he’s driving them to his house right now. I have to get ready and Dadi is out at her kitty party with the aunties, Dad decided to work this weekend, and now I have to cook and wear a stupid sari! We’re Punjabi! Why can’t I wear a suit instead? But no. Loken said his mother would be more impressed if I wore a sari Gujarati style. Now she’s going to hate my halwa and my outfit!”

Kareena held up her hands to stop the tirade. “Did you iron the sari yet?”

“Oh my god, no!” Bindu’s voice screeched. “I was filming videos and editing and working on grading a stupid quiz I assigned my students last week. What am I supposed to do?”

Before the first sob could break through her lips, Kareena shushed her.

“First things first. Go iron the sari. Second, I’ll ask Bobbi if anyone on her wedding planning team is nearby and knows how to tie a Gujarati-style sari. And while you get dressed, I’ll make the halwa.”

“Okay,” Bindu said, letting out a deep breath. “Really? Really you’ll do that for me?”

Kareena nodded. “Now get out of here. I’ll start cooking.”

“Thanks,” Bindu said with a sniffle. She turned toward the hallway and looked back over one shoulder. “Didi.” She rushed back upstairs.

Kareena shook her head. Damn it, she was always a sucker when her sister needed her.

She sent Bobbi a text first, then Dave all the information for her car, before she put the phone down and walked into the kitchen.

“Halwa,” she said to herself. “You and I haven’t met since I was forced to make you for the last pooja. Let’s do this.”

She started by pulling out all the main ingredients. Chickpea flour, ghee, sugar, raisins, and slivered almonds. Kareena then set a small pot to boil.

Now she had to find the wok. Her grandmother preferred to make halwa in a saucepan, but Kareena liked to use the same wok her mother had used. It was good luck. Unfortunately, that meant digging through all of Dadi’s stainless-steel crap.

She began opening base cabinets and drawers. There were so many stainless-steel bowls, pots, and pans. Her grandmother kept buying new stuff and shoving the old ones in the back.

I really have to clean this up, she thought. She made it to the corner cabinet that barely got any use since it was harder for Dadi to bend at the knees. She had to get down on the floor to search the bottom shelf.

When she saw the handle of the wok, she cheered. “Gotcha!” Kareena reached inside to feel the back of the cabinet when her hand brushed the corner of some paper. “What the hell?”

Pulling her hand out of the cabinet, she grabbed her phone, then shined some light into the back. There, stuck between the base and the wall was a folded yellow piece of paper. It must have dropped back there when she took out all the drawers to reface the cabinets a couple years ago. And since it was stuck in the edges, unless someone cleaned the cabinets with a flashlight, it would’ve been impossible to spot.