Radha & Jai's Recipe for Romance Read online

  SHAKTI: Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!

  RADHA: Happy Thanksgiving! Is your Indian-Caribbean Friendsgiving event happening?

  SHAKTI: Yes! That’s actually why I’m messaging. I know you were supposed to go to Winnie’s house with your mom, but why don’t you come over and celebrate with my family and our friends? You have to admit, I’m a lot more fun.

  RADHA: LOL, true but I actually don’t think I’m going anywhere. I feel like staying home today.

  SHAKTI: On a holiday?

  RADHA: More food for me. And I don’t have to watch sportsball.

  SHAKTI: If you change your mind, we can eat amazing food and also practice. I can’t believe we’re at the end of November and I still don’t have the dance.

  RADHA: You’ll get it!

  SHAKTI: You’d be better at it than me. You should’ve just done the lead role.

  “Radha?” her mom called from upstairs. Radha jumped at the interruption. She had to read Shakti’s last line again.

  “Radha, I’ve said your name three times now!”

  “Oh. Sorry. I was talking to Simran. And texting. I’m in the kitchen.”

  The click of heels grew louder until her mother appeared. Sujata wore dark-wash jeans and a burnt-orange cashmere sweater. Her hair was styled around her face in a short bob.

  “I needed you to come to the stairs.”

  Radha motioned to her samosas and open laptop on the island. “I now have commitments, Mom. I’ve become popular.”

  Sujata struck a pose with her hands on her hips. “Okay, Ms. Popular. How do I look?”

  “The heels are ridiculous.”

  Her mother looked down at her feet. “What? They go with the outfit!”

  Radha thought about Winnie’s mother, and how the woman probably spit-shined her floors when company came over. “Aunty isn’t going to let you wear them in the house. You’re the only one who has forgotten your desi roots and tromps dirt in here.”

  “We don’t have dirt in this house. I pay for a cleaning service.”

  “The gods are still judging you. Wear the brown boots that are easy to slip on and off.”

  “Okay, I can do that. Can you take my picture, too? I want to send it to Tarun.”

  “Well, I’m no longer hungry,” Radha said as she put down the second samosa.

  “You’ll survive.” She waved at the food. “Are we taking your food with us?”

  Containers of saag paneer, cranberry chutney, mango pie, plain paranthas, masala mac and cheese, and her sweet potato–marshmallow samosas were lined up in a single row. She’d not only cooked and packed the food; she’d also washed the dishes, cleaned the countertops, and sprayed down the oven and stovetop.

  Stress cooking and food-culture exploration at a whole other level.

  “I may have gone overboard,” Radha started. “But you can take this with you to Aunty’s house. I’ll stay home.”

  “It’s Thanksgiving! Don’t you want to see Winnie? She’ll be there with her boyfriend.”

  “I just saw her a couple weeks ago. I’ll text her, but I’m pretty sure she’ll understand.”

  “Well, I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” Sujata said. “Why did you change your mind? Are you feeling okay? Have you been doing your new exercises?”

  Radha picked up the leather-bound notebook her mother had bought her and waved it in the air. “I am writing down all my feelings like I’m supposed to.”

  In reality she was compiling recipes. The shape of the book, the softness of the cover and the binding, made it like a newer version of her dada’s recipe notebook, and she couldn’t help but use it in the same way. Fortunately, her mother would never find out. She practically slept with it under her pillow to make sure of that.

  Sorry not sorry.

  “Okay, well, if you’re sure.” Her mother stopped mid-turn. “You know, why don’t I come home early? We’ll leave the food here and eat some of it together when I get back.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to have Indian food with me?”

  Her mother shrugged. “It is Thanksgiving.”

  Miracles do happen, Radha thought. “Yeah. We could do that.”

  “And then maybe we’ll watch some of your old routines so you can turn your Bollywood dance group into something a little more dignified. I don’t know how you convinced your doctors to advocate for you teaching that routine instead of getting back on the stage. Don’t think for a minute you’re off the hook for that. Since you’ve put yourself in this horrible situation, and you have no choice but to stay in this school, the least you can do is make the best of it.”

  On second thought, miracles were a lie.

  “Just go, Mom,” Radha said, “and don’t worry about coming home early. I’ll take your picture later.”

  It took another five minutes of fussing before her mother was finally out the door. Radha relaxed in the silence and solitude. She’d do the responsible thing and work on her kathak thesis statement. She was almost done with it, which was a good thing since she had to hand it in next week.

  Radha put the food away and was opening up her textbooks at the kitchen island when her doorbell rang.

  Her mother had probably forgotten the front-door keypad code again. The woman had a mind as sharp as a Japanese chef’s blade, but she couldn’t remember what her Netflix password was or how to get back into the house.

  Radha peeked through the glass pane at the side of the entrance door, and her jaw dropped. She yanked it open.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Hi,” Jai said. “Happy Thanksgiving.” He stood in a button-down shirt and dark-wash jeans, holding out a bouquet of orange and yellow flowers.

  He looked amazing.

  “I don’t understand. Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”

  “I just left. Now I’m visiting you.”

  They stood on the stoop, staring at each other.

  “Well?” he said. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

  The knot that had formed in the pit of her stomach loosened. On impulse, she vaulted up so that her legs wrapped around his waist and her mouth fused to his. When his arms banded around her and he kissed her, she sank into the kiss.

  “No, seriously,” she said, a little breathless, when she finally pulled back. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re here.”

  Radha let him carry her into the house. She shut the door and then pointed down the hall.

  “Mom is going to stay with the director tonight,” he explained. “I did some recon, talked to Shakti, and found out that you were here.” He effortlessly carried her and the flowers into the kitchen.

  “Well, great timing. My mom left like fifteen minutes ago.”

  Jai set her on her feet. “Uh, yeah. I was parking across the street when I saw her leave. Then I waited to make sure she wasn’t coming back. I wasn’t sure if you’d told her about me, so I figured that was the safest solution. Hey, nice place.”

  “Thanks,” Radha said. “I do appreciate an Indian boyfriend who understands potential parent pitfalls.” She picked up her plate of samosas and held it out. “She’ll probably hate that I’m dating and say that it’s taking away from my chances of performing ever again. I didn’t bring you up yet, because, well, I didn’t want to argue with her. I have other stuff to focus on.”

  Jai picked up a samosa and took a bite. His eyebrows made a V, and then his eyes went wide. “Holy Vishnu. This is a Thanksgiving samosa!”

  “Yup,” Radha said with a grin. “Not bad, right?”

  “Not bad? It’s great. If you have more of those, you can pack them up and bring them with us.”

  “Uh, where are we going?” Not that she was going to say no.
Her vision of a quiet Thanksgiving with her thesis statement went right out the window.

  “What do you say,” Jai started, “to having Thanksgiving with me, my brothers, and my dad? Neil is already home, deep-frying a tandoori turkey. Gopal is closing up shop and visiting Nana for a bit, and he’ll be joining us in a couple hours. We could also use some fresh blood around when we watch Sholay for the millionth time.”

  “You want me to celebrate with your family?”

  Jai nodded. “Like I said. I missed you.”

  He reached for her, and Radha was ready to reciprocate the hug when he changed course and grabbed another samosa.

  “Hey!”

  Jai wiggled his eyebrows. “What do you say? Thanksgiving Punjabi-Gujarati style? Well, mostly Punjabi style, because my mother is the one who taught us how to cook.”

  “It sounds great. I’ll text my mother and let her know I’m going to be at a friend’s house after all. Give me a second to change and we can head out.”

  They froze at the same time.

  “Oh,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  The house was empty, and they were alone. Together.

  “Your mom isn’t—”

  “Yeah.”

  He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Like he didn’t know what to do, but also wanted very much to do the things that were left unsaid between them.

  And wasn’t that sweet? Her heartbeat was pounding away again, but now it was from love and excitement—not even a hint of anxiety. Radha leaned in and kissed him. If anyone was going to be the one, it would be him, she thought as she pulled away. “There are more samosas on the counter over there. Help yourself.”

  “Yes. Great. I’ll stay here and eat samosas. By myself.”

  * * *

  When he pulled in front of a small two-story colonial home with a wide ramp leading up to French doors, Jai’s easygoing smile faded.

  “Ready?”

  Radha nodded. She picked up the large insulated bag of Tupperware. “Anything I should know before I walk in there?”

  Jai froze. “What do you mean?”

  “Like does your dad know we’re dating? I don’t want to say something if…”

  “Oh. Uh, yeah.” His shoulders relaxed. “They know about you. Come on. I’ll help you with the bag.”

  Radha brushed her fingertips over the Ganesha door knocker as she followed Jai into the small foyer and kicked off her shoes after him.

  One point for Radha, zero for Sujata. Everyone takes their shoes off.

  To the left of the foyer was a large, open living room.

  The house was spotless. Framed candid shots of Jai and his family sat on bookshelves bracketing a TV. A painting of an Indian village scene was mounted on the wall. Under the painting was a large gray sectional. At the end of the sectional, a man sat in a wheelchair tilted back on a power base motor. Next to him on the couch was a blue foam mat and a blanket.

  “Let me introduce you to Dad,” Jai said. “Don’t let his smile fool you. He’s sneaky.”

  Radha squeezed his arm. “Like father, like son, they say.”

  “Truth. We moved him from the blue mat on the couch to his chair so he could watch a movie before I left. I think he’ll like this interruption.”

  Radha followed Jai, realizing that she’d never met the parents of someone she was dating before. She knew from the way Jai talked about him that his dad was kind and funny. Swallowing her nerves, she smiled at the man wearing a T-shirt that said i love bollywood. His eyes darted from the screen to Jai, then to Radha and back.

  “Dad? This is Radha, my girlfriend I was telling you about. She’s spending Thanksgiving with us.”

  Jai’s father’s smile was full of teeth, laugh lines, and crinkling eyes. It was the sweetest expression, and Radha knew where Jai got his charm from.

  “Hello,” he said, his mouth moving slowly to shape the word.

  “Hi, Uncle,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice. You’re pretty.”

  “Hey now,” Jai said, stepping in front of Radha. “There is no need to charm my girl.”

  Jai’s father grinned at him.

  “Neil is checking on the bird in the backyard, right?” Jai asked.

  “Yes. It’s going to burn.”

  “Yeah,” Jai said. “Just like last year. Radha and I are going to take care of the food, okay? I’ll check on you in a bit.” He motioned to the TV, which was playing Sholay on low. “The movie is almost at the good part.”

  Radha winked at Jai’s father, who chuckled in response. She followed Jai into the kitchen. They began unpacking the bag of food they’d brought in from the car.

  “Sometimes he’ll watch in my parents’ bedroom, which is down the hall over there,” Jai said. “We had it reconfigured years ago for his quadriplegia. But he wanted to watch it on a bigger screen today for some reason.”

  “Quadriplegia?”

  “Paralysis from the neck down, including torso. His injury didn’t affect his ability to breathe on his own, but he was diagnosed with some cognitive impairments, like with speech. He needed a lot of rehab and speech therapy. That’s where he and Nana Veeru spent a lot of time. Most of it was watching Sholay.”

  Radha froze. “Wait a minute. Jai and Veeru. Those are names from the movie Sholay.”

  “Yeah, they are.” Jai laughed. “You’re just figuring that out? Dad loved the movie way before the accident too. I was named Jai after the film.”

  “And Veeru. Nana Veeru?”

  “Yup. Dr. Vimbai Muza, from Harare, Zimbabwe. Masi and my mom used to say that we were two peas in a pod from the start of our relationship, kind of like Jai and Veeru from Sholay, so the name change stuck.”

  “Jai, is your nana going to be able to work with you at the store again?”

  Jai’s smile slipped. “I don’t think so.”

  “What are you guys going to do?”

  “We’re going to have to hire someone.” Jai grabbed Radha’s hands and faced her. “There’s something I want to tell you. Something that I haven’t explained. Maybe if you know it, you’ll realize why going to Columbia is not an option.”

  She was already shaking her head. Columbia was the reason they’d fought last time. She didn’t want to ruin today, especially when it had been so long since she’d seen him. “You don’t have to explain. I’ll let it go. I promise.”

  “No,” Jai said. “I really want to talk to you about it.”

  Radha looked at their hands. “I’ll listen, but whatever it is, I’m with you.”

  “I…thanks. Look, when my dad got into the accident, I was ten. I couldn’t really do anything to help him, my mom, and my brothers. I saw how hard Dad worked in rehab, how my mother worked two jobs, and how my brothers dropped out of school to run the store. My family functioned as a team to survive. We have no other family in the US. It’s just us, so it was drilled into me that all we have is each other. The medical bills practically wiped us out, and we were in really bad shape, and I couldn’t do anything to help while my parents and my brothers did everything for me. Now my brothers want to open a second store. If I go to school—”

  “You won’t be able to help.”

  Jai nodded. “My brothers will have to hire two people instead of just one, and my family’s goal to open a second store will be so much farther away. With my help, we’ll get it done.”

  Radha pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to count to ten. “Jai Patel, you did not bring me here for Thanksgiving so you could try to convince me that you can’t go to Columbia.”

  “What?” he sputtered. “No, I wanted to explain things to you, though. You know, because it’s only fair.”

  She paced the small kitchen. No
pe. She couldn’t keep her promise after all. There was no way she could support this martyrdom.

  She clasped his face in her hands. “You have a family that loves you, and that wants you to be happy. They support you in whatever you want to do. And the most amazing part is that you know what that is! Take it from someone who has a ton of regrets, and who has to carry around an emergency inhaler now, who sometimes stays up until two in the morning stress cooking just to deal with the fallout.”

  Jai dropped his forehead against hers. “You’re not cooperating. You’re supposed to listen to me and think that I’m such a great guy for wanting to put his family first.”

  “No, I think you’re being selfish by putting your family in that position, actually.”

  “Have you been talking to my brother Gopal? Because he pretty much said the same thing.”

  “You know, Shakti says you’re supposed to agree with everything I say. I feel like that’s dumb advice, but in this moment, I don’t hate it.”

  He pulled her in closer. “How about we shelve Columbia? If you want to talk about it later, we will. Maybe after you figure out your college situation.”

  “Sneaky, Jai. That’s really sneaky and underhanded.” She rubbed the tip of her nose with his. “Look, if there is one thing I’ve learned from my new therapy sessions, it’s that we’re seventeen years old. We don’t have to know exactly what we want to do, but we have to be willing to take chances to figure it out. We are the product of our parents’ immigrant dreams. Like my father once told me, it’s not about picking a stable job, it’s about following the right dream.”

  “You know,” Jai murmured as he brushed his lips against hers, “I actually believe that. Because I took a chance with you. And I am so freaking lucky that no matter how many times I mess this up, you’re willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m trying really hard not to make any more mistakes.”

  “That means a lot.” Her mouth tingled, and her heart did one slow roll in her chest. “You were a chance too. Maybe that’s a sign that we should take some more?”