Quarantine and Chill - AMBW Standalone Romance

“No. Not like I should. I’m mindful of the old ways, but as my father feared, I’ve become super westernized.”

“You were raised in California, not India. You can’t blame yourself.”

“Yes, but in times like this, values and traditions can be important.” He walked over to the kitchen. “And this year I began thinking about. . .maybe starting a family. I wondered what I would teach them.”

Shocked, I asked, “Starting a family with Amber?”

“Must you say it that way?”

“I’m just. . .you know?”

“What? The fact that no one really liked her, especially my mother and sister.”

“Yes.”

“I thought that they would grow on her. In fact, I hoped that. . .” He shook his head and grabbed glasses. “It doesn’t matter. Perhaps, I was trying to prove my mother wrong. She thought it was a bad idea to move anyone in, especially Amber.”

I gave him a weak smile. “You’re known to be stubborn.”

“Oh really? That’s the Kamal report?”

“Yep.” I went back to the kitchen to grab silverware.

He blocked my way. “Sit.”

“What?”

“I can at least get everything else for the meal. It all smells delicious. I feel horrible that I didn’t help.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Did you know that many in India would take offense to your thank you?”

“Zora told me a few times.”

“It’s a subtle and involuntary way to insult. Please and thank you are not necessary.”

“Whereas if you don’t say it in America, then you’re considered rude as hell.”

He brought over a bottle of wine along with two glasses and then he returned to the kitchen. “When I would visit my family in Chennai, many would laugh when Zora and I would say it.”

“But, I still don’t get why it would be an insult.”

“In India, real friends are expected to be there for one another, no matter what. Just like family.” He filled a new set of glasses with ice and then poured water. “So, if your friend makes you a meal or helps you in a major emergency, then of course. It’s your friend. You don’t throw a big verbal party.”

“Wow.”

He brought the glasses of water over, set them down, and switched his energy to opening the bottle of wine. “Saying thank you for your friend’s help is like saying, you never expected it from them.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I try to go to Chennai once a year, and still see my friend Arjun who I’ve known for a long time.” Kamal poured a glass of wine for me and then him. “He picked me up from the airport and took me to my hotel. Forgetting myself, I said, ‘Thanks so much.’”

I leaned back in the chair. “What did he say?”

Kamal sat down and did a deeper voice. “‘Kamal, why do you say these things to me? Aren’t we friends or am I your taxi driver?’ It was a big thing. I had to explain myself. He chuckled a little, but he seemed to be in a bad mood the rest to the night.”

“Okay. So, if I want something from you, like this bowl of salad, I won’t say ‘Please, hand me the salad?’”

“Exactly. You would just say, ‘Hey, Kamal, give me the salad.’”

I laughed.

“In one way, it is a bit poetic.”

I quirked my brows. “How’s that?”

“A friend’s loyalty is without limits. They are family in every way.”

“I like that.”

He gazed down at his plate and sighed. “That being said. Thank you so much for cooking this delicious meal. If it tastes as good as it smells then I owe you even more praise.”

I frowned. “Kamal, what is this? Are we not friends? Am I not your loyal, confidant?”

He chuckled.

“How dare you? Am I your cook or something?”

“I stand corrected.” He held his glass of wine up. “To my loyal friend.”

I raised mine with his. “And ride or die quarantine buddy.”

“This is true.” He nodded. “We stole toilet paper together. Who can top that?”

“No one.”

“Exactly.”

We cheered and both took sips through our laughter.

I cleared my throat. “So, Mommy is back at home?”

“She is. Delores is keeping some distance, but still taking care of her. She sounded good on the phone, so I feel better.”

“Good.” I set my wine down. “And did you tell Mommy about the heist in the grocery store today?”

“No. I’m leaving that for a fun story during Christmas.”

“Yeah. About that, you all celebrate Christmas.”

“We party with you all during the holidays. How can you not in America? It would be missing out on all the fun.”

“But, I remember a few times, when we were younger that you didn’t.”

“My father wanted us to grow up traditional, but then there was Zora.” He picked up his shrimp taco. “As we know, Zora enjoys presents.”

“She does.”

“Zora whined a lot for years and eventually Santa Claus began paying visits to the Patels.”

“Love it.” I began eating my salad.

He bit into his shrimp taco and groaned. “Magnificent.”