Chapter Twenty-Six
When the Malik family entered the main house for Christmas brunch carrying the presents they had purchased for the family, there was a lightness to their steps, despite the heaviness of the morning.
It was the feeling of being on the same page, the clarity that came with a round of truth-telling, and also at having a common enemy: Andy Shaikh.
After Sameera had explained Andy’s plan, her parents had reacted in a suitably horrified manner. Then Esa picked up the story.
“Tom wasn’t far past Toboggan Hill when I caught up to him. He was kicking at the snow and muttering to himself. He was happy I brought him a coat, though,” Esa said.
“What did he say about Andy? Or me?” Sameera asked.
Esa looked at her as if she were foolish. “Not everything is about you, Sameera. He looked a bit grim, thanked me for the jacket, and said he’d be back soon, not to worry. Then I turned around and came here.”
“You didn’t try to comfort him? Get him to talk? Offer any advice?” Sameera pressed. Tom had been so angry and hurt. She hated to think of him in pain.
Esa shrugged. “He wanted to be left alone, so I let him get on with it. Not everything has to be about sharing your feelings and crying.” He shuddered, and Nadiya and Sameera exchanged amused glances.
“I owe you an explanation and an apology, too,” Sameera said, and Esa looked horrified. “Which I promise to deliver without tears.” He nodded at her to continue.
“I disappeared from your life for three years. It wasn’t about you, but you still suffered. I missed you so much—” Her voice cracked, but she soldiered on. “I want you to know that I thought of you every day, and I hate myself for what I did. I hope you can forgive me, Esa.”
Her brother shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable with all this emoting.
“’S’right,” he muttered. “Wish you had been there when I graduated middle school, that’s all.
” He glanced up, a sly smile on his face.
“It’s not too late to get me a gift for all those missed birthdays, though.
You can Venmo me whatever your guilt is worth. ”
“As long as we’re good,” Sameera said.
They hugged, and Esa even let her hold him close for ten seconds before wriggling away and announcing that he was starving.
The Maliks trooped inside the main house, where they found Tom stationed once more behind the counter, exactly where he had been when Sameera approached that morning with her unwelcome revelations.
The set of his jaw was a tight line, but his hands were a blur as he chopped, diced, and stirred a pot on the stove.
He glanced up when the Malik family entered, acknowledging their presence.
His gaze softened when he looked at Sameera, and Tahsin nudged her.
“See? He likes you,” her mother whispered, and for once Sameera wasn’t irritated by the comment.
“As long as you acknowledge that you played matchmaker,” she whispered back. Tahsin had the grace to look contrite, and Sameera smiled mischievously. Really, she was relieved that Tom didn’t seem to be angry at her anymore.
Nadiya promptly disappeared to give herself a self-guided tour of Cooke Place.
When Rob, Barb, and Andy entered the kitchen together, the older man seemed pleased to see Tom at the stove.
The morning menu was inspired by their meal last night at Abu Isra’s, Tom explained: shakshuka, homemade hummus, akkawi cheese with honey, fresh fruit smoothies, eggs with feta cheese and olives, plus kheer pudding for dessert.
“It’s a fusion Christmas meal,” he said.
Sameera noticed he didn’t look at Andy once.
House tour complete, Nadiya joined the party in the kitchen and reached for a plate. Andy lined up behind her. “You’re still here?” she asked him. “Haven’t you caused enough drama already?”
Andy grinned at her. “Just say the word, gorgeous, and we could be sipping cocktails anywhere in the world.”
Nadiya was not impressed. “I’m sure the women you usually pursue are eager for any crumb of your attention. Do us all a favor, and go back to them. Your face is putting me off my food.”
“I can’t say the same,” Andy said. “I like your face. Go out with me?”
Nadiya rolled her eyes and helped herself to shakshuka and the sourdough bread Tom had sliced to mop up the tomato curry before finding a seat at the dining table.
“She didn’t say no,” Andy said to Sameera, grinning. She didn’t smile back. She was mad at Andy, and worried about Tom, and also for herself. She had come to terms with the fact that she would be unemployed in the new year. But she had hit rock bottom before and would climb out again.
“My sister is a practicing Muslim woman,” Sameera said stiffly to Andy now. “She doesn’t date, she doesn’t drink cocktails, and she didn’t answer you because your question is ridiculous.”
Andy turned to Tom. “I will pay you a million dollars if you can convince your girlfriend’s sister to go out with me.”
Tom’s glare was flinty. “I know you’re used to throwing money around to get what you want, Andy, so this might come as a shock, but not everything is for sale.”
Andy seemed taken aback by this comment, and he glanced quickly from Sameera to his friend’s grim face before heading to the table. He sat across from Nadiya, who ignored him. Soon, the kitchen was empty save for Tom and Sameera.
She leaned closer. “If you need a distraction, I can start talking loudly about how bubble tea is basically just falooda,” she said, referring to the milky, rose-flavored drink made with basil seeds and vermicelli and topped with nuts, popular among the desi diaspora.
“I guarantee that will get my mom riled up for a fight.”
Tom flashed her a weary smile. “No need. You already caused a war online with your biryani comment a few days ago. I’m only sorry for the way I reacted this morning. I wasn’t mad at you.”
Why was her sister always right? “It’s okay if you were a little mad at me,” Sameera said.
“So long as you keep most of that anger for Andy. What he tried to do was terrible. But you were also right. I was scared to tell you—not because I considered his offer for very long, but because I knew it meant that I was saying goodbye to the dream of saving my job. Other than dealing with Blake, I liked working at the Undertakers.”
Tom’s hand was warm on her arm. “I know, Sam. I’m not just angry at Andy, though believe me, I am.
The thought that keeps spinning in a loop through my head is why Andy thought my dad would sell Cooke Place.
Andy has confidence and bravado for days, but he’s not delusional.
Not unless . . .” He trailed off, the words causing him physical pain.
“Not unless Rob said something to encourage him,” Sameera finished, realization dawning. This was what Nadiya had alluded to earlier. “You’re worried your dad is trying to manipulate you into moving back home again. But maybe there’s another explanation?” she said hopefully.
Tom shook his head and exhaled. “I can’t think about this now. Let’s enjoy Christmas brunch, at least. It’s better to fight on a full stomach.”
“Yes, Chef,” Sameera said, and impulsively reached up on her toes to place a gentle kiss on Tom’s lips. It felt right, to kiss him. Just like it felt right to allow herself to think about his role in her life when they returned to Atlanta.
He seemed surprised by the gesture, even as his arm went automatically to her waist, pulling her close. They smiled at each other, and the look said I see you, and I’m here for you, and I’m glad you’re here.
Everyone was tucking into their meal when they joined the party after loading their plates. Tom’s spread had done what good food did best—put everyone at ease and lightened the mood. She took a bite of her eggs, loaded with feta, veggies, and black olives. They were savory and delicious.
Soon, a spirited discussion about the differences between various holidays broke out, with Naveed arguing that though Christmas was a globally recognized celebration, Ramadan was more meaningful.
“Is it a holiday if you have to keep vampire hours for thirty days?” Esa asked. “Eid is a holiday, but Ramadan is a marathon. Fight me.” He bared his teeth at his parents, who laughed.
“I’m just saying, the payoff is greater. We work for our joy,” Naveed said.
“You’ve clearly never had to brave Target the week before Christmas,” Barb said. “I earned my gingerbread and eggnog just for that!”
Everyone laughed, and Andy added his two cents: “I understand what Naveed Uncle means,” he said.
“When you don’t eat or drink during daylight hours for a month, alongside the rest of your community, there’s a communal feeling that’s hard to beat.
And then at the end of it, you feast—that’s what ‘Eid’ translates to.
Last-minute riots at the local mall notwithstanding, Eid al-Fitr is the superior holiday, but only because it follows Ramadan.
” Sameera had to hand it to Andy, his argument was sound.
“Mistletoe, tinsel, holiday lights, carols, holiday baking . . .” Rob counted off on his fingers.
“Mehndi, samosas, dates, Biscoff-flavored everything, haleem, community,” Naveed countered. “We have everything Christmas has, plus more.”
“Except the holiday movies,” Esa piped up. He had loaded two plates and was polishing off the second one. “Where’s our version of Home Alone?”
Beside him, Calvin nodded in agreement. “Holiday movies are the best part. I watch Die Hard every year.” The boys high-fived.
When everyone except Esa and Cal had pushed back from the table and shared their compliments with the chef, Andy tapped on his juice glass and stood up.
“I know we’re keeping it halal this year, but I wanted to raise a glass to our hosts, Rob and Barb,” he said, waiting for everyone to join him before turning to face the older couple.
“I’ve started to consider Cooke Place, and Wolf Run, too, as more than a second home.
In fact, if things go according to plan, I hope we can announce a very special collaboration between Shaikh Enterprises and the Cooke family. ” He beamed around the table.
Rob chuckled. “There’s no reason to talk about that right now, Andy.” His glance at Tom was significant. “I have one rule on Christmas Day—focus on family. Who’s ready to open presents?”
Esa and Calvin immediately put up their hands, but Andy wouldn’t let it go. “Christmas is also the perfect time to announce big plans, Rob. I know we haven’t hammered down the details yet, but perhaps it’s time. I know Tom would love to hear what you’re thinking.”
“And here I thought you didn’t believe in the direct approach,” Nadiya said.
Andy was no fool, Sameera thought. He had realized that Tom knew the truth and wasn’t pleased, which was why he was making one last desperate attempt to get what he wanted by pushing Rob.
As she watched, his features hardened, the charming, affable guest gone in an instant, replaced by the shrewd businessman she remembered from their conversation that morning.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering what beautiful Nadiya means,” he said.
“Just Nadiya, thanks,” her sister said.
“The truth is, I’ve been carrying around a dream in my pocket, and I need Cooke Place to make it a reality.
” Andy paused, surveying the room. Sameera followed his gaze—her parents and siblings hostile, Rob panicked, while Tom looked afraid of what this conversation might reveal about his father.
Tom had been happy cooking Christmas brunch that morning, content when he had shyly told her about talking with Rob.
From her own difficult conversation with her parents, she knew what a difference making amends could have on a bone-deep level.
She couldn’t stand to see that taken away from Tom. Not like this.
She stood up. “I love presents!” she announced. Everyone stared at her, and Esa gave her a thumbs-up. “I think we should go open them, right now.”
Rob was instantly on his feet and leading the way to the sitting room, where the Christmas tree was set up. Sameera caught Tom’s eye, but instead of the relief she expected, he seemed deflated and wouldn’t meet her gaze. Had she messed up again?
Andy passed by, leaning close to whisper: “You can’t delay the inevitable, Malik. I hope Tom is worth it.”