Reena hadn’t subjected herself to Saira’s weird soup. It was still sitting in her fridge, the jellied mass mocking her whenever she opened the fridge looking for real food.

She opened the top foil tray. The rich tomato broth with spicy kofta meatballs and potatoes smelled heavenly, but her mother showing up at her door with one of her favorite dishes was not unconditional parental care. She doubted the woman knew a thing about unconditional anything. Mum and Saira wanted something.

“There’s lots. I thought you could invite Nadim to share dinner with you.” Mum grinned.

Aha. Mystery solved. In Mum’s opinion, a home-cooked meal was just the thing to make him fall head over heels in love with Reena. Food being the way into a man’s heart and all. It was a laughable attempt.

If Reena wanted his heart (or any other part of him), she would have cooked herself—and made something more show-stopping, like the duck and shallots au vin she made for Amira’s going-away dinner. Ooh, maybe with smoked salt focaccia, and star anise-cardamom crème brûlée for dessert. And to drink, maybe … wait. Mum was still talking.

“I didn’t make any maani,” Mum said. “But I bought you some frozen ones.”

Reena’s nose wrinkled. “Ugh, Mum. Frozen bread?”

“You know what you should try, Reena?” Saira said. “Serving the kebobs with lettuce cups.”

Reena tried so hard not to snort. Lettuce cups wouldn’t win a man’s heart, any more than frozen bread. But since she didn’t want to win Nadim’s heart, it was a moot point. She’d serve the kebob jo shaak, but with her own sourdough bread, and save her Thai for another day.

But she didn’t want Mum to know that—Mum would see it as a victory.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m eating with Marley and Shayne today. Thank you for the food, though.” Reena smiled, hoping Mum wouldn’t push.

“Mahreen? We never see her anymore. We don’t even see Amin and Shaila that much since her sister died.”

Amin and Shaila were Marley’s parents. Shaila’s younger sister had passed away from ovarian cancer a few years ago, and it was true, Shaila Aunty had taken her sister’s death hard. But it was understandable, they were very close.

“Mahreen’s not still doing that stuff, is she?” her mother asked.

Saira rolled her eyes and plopped herself on the barstool at the breakfast bar. “Really, Mum? That stuff? You can just say she’s bisexual. Nobody cares.”

Saira had a point. When Marley came out to her parents last year, the news caused barely a blip on anyone’s radar in the extended family gossip. Really, there had been more judgment when Marley dyed her hair blond for about six months than when she started dating women. But, of course, Mum judged.

Deflect and distract time.

“Thank you for the food … ” Crap. She’d already said that. Reena raked her brain to think of something suitable to say …

“You must ask Nadim to come another time,” Mum said. “Alone. I invited him for brunch next Sunday, too.”