“Ah, Sajan!” Annika’s father’s voice boomed from behind her. “So good to see you again. Come. Come in. We were just sitting down to dinner. Come join us.”

“Oh, no, Uncle. I couldn’t. My parents asked me to pick up some diya. They seem to have misplaced theirs in the move.”

“Of course, we have the diya set aside for you. But come and eat a little. I insist. And I assure you, your parents won’t mind a bit, huh?” Her father could barely meet her eyes, and Annika knew in that moment she was being set up. The question was, was Sajan in on it? She stole a glance at him, but it was obvious that he, too, had figured out what was going on, and he was just as surprised as she was.

“I’m sure Sajan has better things to do.” She glared at her father.

“Yeah, I’ll just get those diya and be on my way.”

“No, I insist.” Her father’s tone was such that there was no arguing with him.

“But Uncle, I’m on call, and I really—”

“Well, then, you should eat when you have a moment.” Annika’s mother had shown up to chime in. “And it seems you have a moment.”

Annika closed her eyes. Her dad you could argue with, but not her mom. When Mom insisted you eat, you sat your butt down and ate. She knew Sajan had no choice now but to have dinner with her and her family.

She glanced at him. He was well aware of his predicament. He bent down to take off his shoes. “Well, Auntie, who could say no to your cooking?”

“Fantastic!” Her father boomed and rubbed his hands together in victory. “Come.” He led the way to the dining table.

Clearly, Sajan’s parents and her parents thought they would make a great couple. They also knew neither of them would agree to an official “meeting,” so they had cooked up this ruse. She glanced at him again out of the corner of her eye. He definitely had a slight deer-in-headlights look about him.

Annika’s mother filled everyone’s plates, heaping extra food on Sajan’s plate, despite his protests. After the customary prayer, there was no sound, not even the clinking of silverware, as most of the food was eaten by hand. Annika was fuming that her parents would stoop to tricking her into meeting men. Even handsome men. So, she did not feel obliged to make conversation. If her parents were so keen on Sajan, they could talk to him.

“So, Sajan, your father tells me you are a physician at Hopkins.” Her father attempted conversation in the void.

Annika’s insides tightened. Seriously, he was a doctor? Could they be more cliché?

“Yes, Uncle. I’m on staff there.”

“And your specialty?” He appeared to be waiting to hear this with bated breath. As if he didn’t already know.

“Pulmonology, sir.”

“Well, that sounds exciting. Doesn’t it, Annika?”