Chapter 30
Danni
Chance emerges from the ocean, muscles glistening in the afternoon sun. He shakes his wet hair and then closes his eyes and runs his fingers through the black strands. The sight sends a tingle from my head to my toes.
I admire his muscular shins as he heads up the sand toward our blanket.
“What are you grinning at?” he asks after plopping down beside me.
“Oh, nothing.”
I’ve been face down for the last twenty minutes, soaking up rays through my SPF 100 while Chance was out conquering the waves. They’re not strong enough to warrant a red flag. Yet. Tomorrow will be even choppier, but we’re leaving tonight for a good night’s sleep before another Monday at JetAero.
“You want some more lotion on your back?” Chance asks.
“Nope. We should probably go in.”
He sighs. “I suppose. I kinda like hanging out on the beach with you, though.”
I flop over and block the sun with my hand. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
He smiles and leans over for a peck.
“However, it was your idea that I cook your family and Navya dinner. And since I’ve never fixed Murgh Kari, I’m going to need lots of assistance.”
“Of course,” he says before giving me another quick kiss. “Dadi’s going to be impressed.”
Doubt threads through my chest. Dadi’s been keeping an emotional distance. She’s been polite. Almost too polite. Too formal. “I don’t think she likes me.”
He rests his elbows on his bent knees and runs his fingers through his hair again. “Why do you think that?”
“She hasn’t said my name once. She just calls me ‘Dear.’”
“‘Dear’ sounds more intimate than Danni.”
“Not the way she says it.”
He peaks down at me. “She likes you.”
I sit up and slide my sunglasses onto my nose. “If you say so.” Maybe she’ll like me more if I nail dinner tonight. One can hope.
We pack up our beach gear, slide on our flip-flops, and trudge through the hot sand to the bicycles that have been our mode of transportation for the last four days. The VRBO Chance’s mom rented is a few blocks from the ocean and close to Folly Beach’s main strip. We’ve been enjoying slow bike rides, dinners out, casual shopping. A four-day beach vaca with Morgan and Kayla would be fun. But with Chance, it’s been amazing. And I’m not, in the slightest bit, ready for it to end. Luckily the beach is less than forty minutes away from Wild Oaks. Something tells me Chance and I will be coming here a lot.
Our quick trip ends at a quaint, seafoam green cottage with a wraparound porch and a sandy front yard. Its five bedrooms have offered plenty of privacy, while the great room has been the perfect place to convene for meals and board games.
Chance bought everything we need for Murgh Kari, which I’m told is chicken curry in American. We head to the kitchen, gather the ingredients onto the island, and get to work while Navya quietly reads a book on the couch. Chance’s mom and dadi are last-minute souvenir shopping, according to Navya.
Chance cuts the raw chicken and measures the spices but lets me do the cooking. The white rice is already warming in a rice cooker. He brought it with him to fix a fresh batch every morning. I’ve never eaten so much rice, but I could easily get used to it.
While the Murgh Kari is simmering, Chance shows me how to make chapatis with wheat flour, oil, salt, and a little water. We’ve made half a dozen when Chance’s mom and dadi arrive.
Dadi has fully embraced South Carolina beach life, donning a floppy-brimmed hat, a modest tank top with a flowy linen cover-up, and light, wide-legged pants. Her arms are laden with shopping bags. She deposits them onto the table.
“Hello, dear,” she says, waving at me. “Come see what we bought, Adi.”
Notice she didn’t ask me to see what they bought. I hover by the stove, stirring the curry so it doesn’t burn while Dadi shows her purchases to Chance, which include several necklaces and pairs of earrings. Navya wanders over and they admire a shell bracelet and pendant.
Chance glances at me and beckons me with a wave.
“I think this is ready,” I say.
He leaves the women and returns to my side. Together we fill large bowls with rice, chicken, and rich sauce, place the bowls on plates, and fold a chapati onto each one.
“This smells wonderful, Adi,” Dadi says as we sit.
“Danni made it,” Chance says. “Including the chapatis.”
“Let’s see how it tastes, then.”
I wring my hands under the table while Dadi prepares her first bite and ceremoniously lifts it to her mouth. The moment my Murgh Kari hits her taste buds, her eyes widen. “This is good, Danni. Even better than I make at home.”
Chance reaches for my hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. It’s a small victory. With many more to come, I hope.
Chance threads his fingers through mine as we walk along the beach, twilight muting the sand and the ocean. We walk along the water’s edge, our bare feet leaving trails of footprints.
“That was a good idea.” I lean against him and wrap my hand around his forearm.
“I told you she likes you.”
“She said my name.”
“She said it more than once. I think that means you’re accepted into the family.” He pauses and swings around in front of me. “If that’s what you want.”
A breeze comes up behind him and ruffles his hair. I reach up and comb my fingers through his curls, styling them neatly until another breeze undoes my effort.
“Is it what you want?” Chance asks tentatively after I let too much time pass. Not because I’m uncertain. The opposite. Which is unsettling in its own way. But I’m here for it.
“It is,” I say, smiling up at him.
He gathers me in his arms, wipes my smile away with his lips, but I still feel it as we kiss…a distinct silliness that’s going to leave me smiling inside for a long, long time.