The other reason is that Baba always said he wanted to take us pottery painting but we never made the time for it, so nowwe do it in his honour and as a way to grieve, finding solace in expressing ourselves without having to say anything at all.
‘What else do we need?’ I ask, looking at the shelves, which are loaded with various items. ‘A mug?’
‘Maybe a bowl?’ Ma answers.
I pick up a little bowl, trying to imagine what I’ll paint as we go further into the studio. Flying Saucers is one of those places that feels chaotic and calm at the same time. It’s part art studio and part café. As we take our seats by the window, the faint smell of coffee, along with clay dust, wafts through the air. We put on our aprons, shielding ourselves from the inevitable mess, and then line up the brushes, stencils and paints we want to use.
We start the process with concentration, bent over our pieces as if it’s life or death that we get our designs and colours just right. Quiet indie music plays in the background, offering a relaxing soundtrack. When I’ve pencilled the outlines of the bows I want to paint on my bowl and Ma has decided which stencil she wants to paint over, we finally breathe out and loosen our shoulders.
‘That looks really professional, you know,’ Ma notes as I begin filling in the bows with a lavender colour.
‘You sound surprised that I’m actually good at something.’ I raise a brow.
‘Not at all, Poppy.’ Ma dips her brush in the water, pressing the bristles against the side of the can to get rid of the excess liquid. ‘I was actually just thinking that maybe working at Eternally Yours this summer has been good for you.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. You seem .?.?. more settled.’
I scoff. ‘Really? Because I’m absolutely freaking out about setting up this date for Samira and Akash next week. Sadia won’t even be on location because she has meetings scheduled, so I’ll be running the whole thing. Isn’t that insane?’
‘Why would it be? She seems to trust you. Didn’t you say she loved the date proposals?’
‘I mean, she did,’ I admit, twisting my lips in thought. ‘But those were just, you know, in theory. I’m surprised she’s letting me run the show on the actual day. I would have thought she’d be there to supervise, at least.’ I exhale deeply. ‘What if I mess up? What if Akash and Samira have a terrible time because I couldn’t follow the schedule or because I got them the wrong type of nibble? There’s so much at stake, Ma.’
‘It’s only a job, Poppy. A summer job. It won’t determine your future.’ Ma reassures me and I don’t correct her because from her point of view she’s right. Itisonly a job, but I know it’s not. This jobdoeshave the ability to affect my future. It will determine whether or not I can go away to Edinburgh guilt-free, or whether the image of Ma sitting by herself each evening will haunt me for my whole degree. But it’s also more than that now: I’ve found I really like this job in and of itself – I’m actually good at it and I’m picking things up like it’s second nature.
‘I just don’t want to mess up. Not even because I’m scared of getting fired, but because Akash and Samira deserve the best date possible. They deserve to fall in love with each other under the most optimum conditions.’
‘Wow, big words there,’ Ma teases and I roll my eyes at her.
‘You know what I mean, Ma. I’ve read their intake forms and in some way I feel like Iknowthem. They bared their souls to Eternally Yours, they put themselves on the line to find the one, and it wouldn’t be fair if I gave them a date that was anything less than what they deserve.’ I feel myself choke up as the meeting Sadia and I had with Habib replays in my mind. ‘They’re being brave moving forward when they could just .?.?. not. They could choose to stay single and not be vulnerable, but they’ve decided to do the scarier thing and run headfirst into the unknown.’
Ma tilts her head to the side and looks at me for longer than is comfortable.
‘What, Ma?’ I ask, my chest fluttering with unease.
She shakes her head as if she was going to say something but has thought better of it, then pivots to say, ‘I’m so proud of who you’ve become. Even as you’ve been talking about this, Poppy, you’ve lit up. You know, a certain degree of nerves is good. It means you care.’
I shrug and look down at my bowl, painting an area I’ve already gone over, making the colour a deeper shade of lavender. ‘I mean, I guess.’
Ma is quiet for a moment before she asks, ‘Do you think this could be your calling?’
I pause mid-brushstroke and look up at Ma, a light laugh escaping me. ‘My calling? Ma, it’s mostly planning logistics and freaking out over vendors.’
‘It’s not and you know that. You’re curating a moment for people. That’s not just planning – that’screating. You’re doing the same thing here.’
‘I’m painting a bowl.’
Ma shakes her head. ‘You’re taking something ordinary and making it yours. You’re taking this blank canvas and personalising it, making it feel alive.’
I look at the bowl, at the lavender bows that grace its surface. ‘I guess.’
‘Most peoplehateorganising, me included, but you? Poppy, you thrive on it. You look at the big pictureandthe small details at the same time, and you make sure it works for everyone. That isn’t something you can teach. It’s rare.’
‘Sadia did say something about maybe working at Eternally Yours in the future,’ I say, my body tingling at the thought.
Ma squeezes my shoulder. ‘See? I’m telling you, it’s your calling.’
