At this point Ashna’s ears started ringing so loudly that she had to focus hard on what people were saying because she could barely hear them.

“This was a terrible idea. What the hell was I thinking?” she whispered as she walked across her kitchen to where Jonah had found her stash of bitter melons. Please don’t touch those, she was about to say, but he bounced away and managed to find a chopping board and placed it on the prep counter.

Nisha stroked Ashna’s back. “You’re going to do great. This celebrity person is lucky to have you.” She tucked the lock of hair that always came loose from Ashna’s bun behind her ear again.

Jonah opened and shut a few drawers, then pulled out the biggest meat cleaver from Ashna’s knife drawer. That thing could sever a lamb shoulder as though it were butter and he was handling it like it was a toy.

“This should work for your . . .” He threw a baffled look at the vegetable. “Odd-looking cucumbers.”

If Ashna weren’t fighting off rampaging panic, she would have smiled. “They’re bitter melons.” She had no idea where that very-uppity-chef-like tone had come from, because that was not her at all. “You want me to chop vegetables with a meat cleaver? Are you sure you work for the Food Network?” Ashna took the cleaver from him with the care it deserved.

To his credit, Jonah looked sheepish. “I just started last week. I was with National Geographic before that.”

Ashna didn’t know what to do with that information so she walked to the knife drawer and switched the cleaver out for her biggest santoku.

“That one’s impressive too. It’ll work!” Jonah said.

Glad you approve, Ashna wanted to say, but panic and snark weren’t mixing inside her today. “It’s a Misono santoku,” she said instead.

These knives were Baba’s prized possessions.

The smooth wood of the handle filled her hand and brought her back to this moment. She was doing something different this time. Not repeating the same thing and expecting different results. Given how much people loved tossing out that advice, it had to work. The blade caught the gleam of the camera lights.

“Go ahead and get started on the chopping here, and he will walk in through there.” Jonah waved his hands and positioned Ashna where he wanted her. Then he started to arrange things on the countertop so the camera picked them up.

Okay, so the celebrity was a he. That meant no grandma. Ugh.

“She will be fine,” Trisha said, pushing Jonah away from Ashna so he wasn’t crowding her.

Ashna pulled a breath all the way to the center of her, the way India, her yoga instructor and Northern California’s foremost stress management therapist, had taught her. India was China’s big sister and Ashna needed to go see her right now.