“Didn’t you overhear the four of us have our weekly shouting match for this KDP offsite at Zorji and Begumjaan’s house?”
“That was about who would attend Kamaal sahab’s son’s wedding.”
“Aah!” He snapped. “You eavesdrop on your boss’ conversations?”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Adil.” Begumjaan deadpanned.
“What?”
“You are not hosting any party or offsite ever again. You don’t know how to host.”
“My wife will know better.” He stuffed sheer korma into his mouth.
“Whoever that woman is, Allah help her. Do you have someone in mind?”
He shook his head. “This Naan is so soft.”
“Speaking of, where is Atharva?”
“Speaking of soft Naans?” Adil smirked
“Speaking of changing topics.”
Amaal snorted.
“He said he will try but he is still stuck at Kamaal sahab’s son’s wedding.”
“And Qureshi?”
“He also lost our shouting match that night. Sarah, Qureshi and Atharva were chosen to go.”
“The kids?”
Adil shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“And Samar?”
Adil set his spoon down and looked at Begumjaan — “I am thinking…”
“Do it slowly, it’s hazardous to your health.”
Amaal bit her lip to hold her laugh.
“Should I change my name from Adil Hussain to Inquiry Counter Hussain?”
“You will still have no answers to queries…” Begumjaan’s words trailed as her eyes went to the gate. The farm was sprawling, and the lights around the frosty green field were coming on. Amaal followed her gaze, and her heart skipped a beat. Samar was walking inside, black leather jacket on black pants, ready to merge into the night that would fall. His head turned in an arc across the party slowly, as if searching for someone. Amaal was not naive enough to hope it was her. But she was hopeful enough to pray it would fall on her.
It passed her, stuttered for just a moment, before moving on. And even that made her breath go crazy. She clamped her teeth tighter on her lip, to the point of pain, as he began to walk in her direction. She held herself steadier, hoping she looked good in this crowd. She had chosen a pretty emerald pheran over a white turtleneck thermal, paired it with her trusty coffee shawl knotted like a muffler. She tightened the knot of her shawl when Samar came closer and closer and closer and passed her for somebody else.
“Begumjaan,” he stopped in front of her, just as she pulled him in for a hug. His tall frame bent, and she said something to him that made his shoulders shake. Amaal waited, hoping to catch a happier expression on his face when he pulled back. But his face was just as impervious.
“Started already?” He looked at Adil’s plate.
“Everybody has.” Adil eyed the KDP members around them, enjoying their dinner.
“You aren’t eating?” Samar asked her. And she hoped she controlled whatever glee was springing inside her on her dry, cold face.
