“Of course.”
Farzana took a bite of her food. “Adil Bhai, this curry is amazing.”
His uncle looked up from his plate and gave a soft smile. “Thank you, but, uh, Auntie made this one.”
“With Adil’s final approval. He kindly volunteered to make everything else. Jia, do you cook?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then you are lucky to have Dev’s uncle living with him. He is a fine chef.” Shweta took a naan from the basket on the center of the table.
Jia smiled warmly at Adil. “Yes, I can’t wait to sample more of his food.”
“We are, indeed, lucky.” Dev regarded his grandmother. She was being so kind. It wasn’t that she was normally unkind, but he’d never seen her go this far out of her way to be nice. That it was to the brother of the woman her son had run away with made it even more peculiar.
Adil’s shoulders relaxed and his smile grew stronger. “Thank you.”
“Dev, you’re not eating.” Shweta smiled at him. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head and ripped his roti in half. “No.”
“It’s a shame Arjun couldn’t join us,” Farzana said to Shweta.
“Yes, he said he wasn’t feeling well. You will meet him tomorrow. He is a very good boy. He took time off from his movie to come travel here with me.”
Dev hoped his snort of disbelief didn’t reach his grandmother’s ears.
“He’s very talented, as well. He takes after his grandfather,” Shweta added. “He will be cast as a movie hero for many years to come.” Dev didn’t think his grandmother had meant that as a dig on his television career, but he couldn’t be sure.
“This one, on the other hand,” Shweta waved at Dev. “He’s come to America to do more television.”
Oh okay.He was sure now.
“I like television, and some actors in our country would kill to be a crossover star,” Dev said. He ripped his flatbread in half.
“We both know you went into television to be different from the rest of us. Andstaris the key word. You’re a villain, not the hero.”
He wasn’t surprised at all Shweta knew what his role inHope Streetwas. She had influence everywhere.
“Villains are admired in this country,” Mohammad pointed out. “He could be quite the lovable bad guy.”
Not with my one-note story, I can’t.“We shall see. Aji, why don’t you tell us about any new projects you have going on?”
Mohammad’s eyes lit up. “Are you acting?”
Shweta shook her head. “No, no, I retired long ago. I’m executive producing three films and a serial now.”
A serial? “Since when are you doing television?” Dev placed the same intonation on the last word that Shweta had.
“Since I realized there was money to be made there.”
“Which serial is it? I keep up on quite a few of them,” Farzana confessed.
“A new one.” Shweta launched into an enthusiastic description, just as Dev had hoped she would.
He let the conversation flow around him for a bit. The elder Ahmeds kept it going, for which he was grateful.
When the plates were cleared, and a cake brought to the table, Shweta finally addressed the younger generation. “Ayesha, your mother tells me you’re considering an arranged marriage. What a good daughter. Congratulations. This is how marriages should be done. None of these love matches.”
