I don’t want to be jealous but I am, and I hate myself for it. I should be there tonight with them, and knowing I’m not makes me want to cry with anger because I wouldn’t be in this position if Ma and Salman’s parents just made up. Even worse, I don’t even know what they’re fighting about! At least if I knew, maybe I wouldn’t feel so indignant about it all.
I try to shake off the ugly feeling as I get up to brush my hair and clean my teeth. When I step into the kitchen and look out the window, all my anger slips away. Ma’s in the garden, hunched over a flowerbed, her face smudged with dirt but wearing a smile.
‘There’s my beautiful daughter,’ Ma shouts through the open window. She’s in full gardening gear, wearing her sunflower dungarees and sporting giant pink gloves and a matching sun hat. ‘Feel rejuvenated?’
I step out into the garden, my bare feet touching grass. I stretch my arms above my head, my cheetah-print pyjama top riding up to expose my midriff. ‘Absolutely. I needed that.’
‘How long was that? Ten hours? Eleven?’
‘Twelve, actually.’
‘Wow, a new record that is,’ she teases. She takes off her gloves and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘I debated waking you a few hours ago, but thought I would leaveit. Seems I made the right call. Mint lemonade? There’s a pitcher in the fridge.’
I nod and go back inside to grab the pitcher and two glasses before taking a seat at the little bistro table in the garden.
‘Sadia must be working you pretty hard if you need that much sleep,’ Ma says as she pours me a glass. I take a sip. The crispness of the mint leaves and the tanginess of the lemons is so refreshing in this heat. I’m still gutted that I can’t hang out with the gang today. It’s such a beautiful day and we could have spent hours in the pool at the club Lipi’s parents are members of.
‘We’ve been busy, that’s for sure.’
I think back over the last fortnight and all that I’ve done, but realise it’s not all that I’ve done that’s exhausted me. It’s not the matches or date proposals but the back and forth with Salman – the way our old banter naturally returned when we worked together, and the emotional whiplash of possibly losing him again after spending time together, had Omar not pulled out.
‘What has she had you doing, then? I feel like I’ve hardly seen you this week.’
It’s true – Ma and I have been like ships in the night. She’s been on evening shifts rather than day shifts, to cover for one of her co-workers who caught a bug.
‘I matched up a bunch of people and then I had to come up with date ideas for them,’ I summarise. ‘It’s actually quite interesting. I really like the planning of it all, coming up with ideas and implementing them. I like howpersonalSadia encourages us to make it. Like, I feel like I know these clients on a deeper level.’
‘You sound like you enjoy it, beta. You’re lighting up.’
I guess I do enjoy it, more than I thought I would. But better than that, I feelgoodat it. I may have got some of my matches incorrect, but I feel like I could see the dates I would put the clients on so clearly. The different settings and itineraries thatwould be perfect for each couple appeared in front of my eyes as if by magic. I could see the moments and the feelings they would experience. I knew how I’d go about planning them all, what backdrop would be perfect for their love stories. I could even envision myself standing on the sideline, clipboard in hand, and a sense of calmness washed over me at the thought of having curated a special moment just for them.
‘I think I’ve been making a good impression on Sadia too,’ I add. It feels like only a matter of time before I can ask Sadia if she’d be willing to take Ma on as a client. After all, the summer is nearly halfway through. ‘And the money doesn’t hurt either. Not that I like the thought of spending it once I get to uni. I know it’s going to be expensive and I definitely don’t want to be living off noodles for three years.’
‘Your dad wouldn’t stand for that. He might be gone, but somehow he’d be at your door once a week with a delivery of food for your fridge,’ Ma says with a laugh that makes the fine lines around her eyes appear. She absentmindedly plays with her wedding band as she smiles wistfully. ‘He would have loved teaching you how to cook. He always said simple recipes were his favourite because they showed that anybody could cook.’
‘Well, maybe not everybody,’ I tease. Ma’s not the worst cook in the world; she can make the basics, but she certainly isn’t the person to bring homemade dishes to a dawat.
Ma playfully swats me and I giggle, pleased with myself. ‘Your strengths lie in different areas. It’s just not in the kitchen.’
‘You have a job and suddenly you’re speaking like a manager.’
I shrug. ‘Sadia better watch out, is all I’m saying.’
Ma shakes her head but a smile creeps onto her lips anyway. A moment later, it disappears. ‘You are right, though. Your father always did know how to keep our bellies full and our hearts warm. I couldn’t compete even if I tried.’
I grab Ma’s hand across the table as a lone tear makes a traildown her cheek. ‘And nobody is asking you to.’
We sit like that for a moment, the two of us looking out at the garden Baba used to tend. Ma never was one for plants while Baba was alive; she was happier to stay at the table with a cup of tea watching him, but when he passed she couldn’t bear to let it wither away.
Thankfully, she’s considerably better at gardening than she is at cooking.
‘Why don’t you go and eat?’ she says, breaking the stillness. ‘You must be starving.’
I’m not really, but I recognise that Ma needs some space right now so I oblige and walk back inside. I rummage through the fridge and find a small serving of pesto pasta from earlier in the week.
I take the bowl and plonk myself on the sofa, then turn on the channel that plays reruns of old episodes ofReal Housewives. When my food is well and truly demolished I lie down, my eyes never leaving the screen as the wives find things to argue about.
‘Poppy,’ Ma says with a chuckle as she steps into the lounge a while later, ‘is there nothing else you want to do today? You’ve been in here three hours!’
