“And she seems more closed off, too,” Zack notes. Some people are like babies: you worry about them more when they’re quiet. “I always try to talk to her, push her to open up, but that doesn’t really work.” To be fair, he knows that’s something he should respect more, his wife’s need for space when she’s upset.

“Oh, nooooo,” Natasha shakes her head. “You’ve gotta back off when she’s pissed. We used to switch off who would wake her up in the mornings growing up because she was like a grumpy little tiger. She has to come to you.”

They both laugh. Zack’s filled with a rush of gratitude at being able to talk to someone who understands Suhani’s emotional skeleton.

“We, uh, talked about kids for a split second,” he says.

“And?”

“And I don’t know. She didn’t seem that into it. To be fair, when we were dating, both of us were undecided about it and could see ourselves with or without them. I guess I’ve just shifted a little since then,” Zack says, wondering if, ironically, Suhani’s encouragement that he learn more about his dad made Zack more open to the idea of building a family of his own.

Their dinner arrives. Zack puts the brown paper delivery bag on the coffee table, which is now candy-free. A receipt is stapled to the outside and flutters under the air-conditioning.

“Has she always been like that?” he asks as he removes the cardboard bowls from the bag. “Not super into kids?”

“Kind of. I always assumed she saw too much as a kid herself.” Natasha mixes her vegetables. The smell of roasted Brussels sprouts and sweet potato fills the living room.

“What do you mean?” Zack drizzles his cauliflower rice with sriracha, something he only started doing after he and Suhani moved in together. His mother-in-law made him a spicy-food lover.

“I guess she always had to be such a caretaker in different ways. When she was really young, she taught my parents about the American school system and translated random things for them and later told them about stuff like visiting colleges. And then with Anuj and me, she was left in charge sometimes.” Natasha laughs. “I swear, she was stricter than Mom. Now that I think of it, she’s even a caretaker in her job. She’s just one of those perpetual fixer types. And to be fair, she’s good at telling people what to do.”