“Sounds like something I would do,” Tom said, and she flashed him a smile.
“Looking back on it, I realize it was pretty standard teenage rebellion, but for my parents, it was the last straw. My mother grounded me for the entire summer,” Sameera said grimly. “I was eighteen years old, and I couldn’t go anywhere. My dad tried to get her to relent after a couple of weeks, but she said it was the only way I would learn. I couldn’t wait to leave for college. I wasn’t sure I would ever come back. In some ways, I never did.”
Tom reached out and traced the tear that was tracking down her cheek, and she realized she was crying. “It sounds ridiculous, I know,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“It sounds like you were a teenager, and you were navigating a tough time. It sounds like you need to be kinder to yourself,” he said.
Sameera tipped her head up to look at him, and a sense of wonder entered her heart. Tom really did understand. “Even when I eventually moved back to Atlanta after law school, things weren’t great between us. Hunter was in the picture by then, but I didn’t tell my parents about him. If I’m honest, he was the latest relationship I had hidden from them, because I didn’t want to deal with their disappointment and lectures every time I went out with someone. But an aunty saw us together and told them. When they confronted me about him, I had had enough. We had a huge fight, and afterward, I cut them off. We didn’t talk again for three years. I guess I was tired of pretending.”
“How did that feel?” Tom asked.
“At first, it felt great, not having to worry about what my parents would think of my choices. I could just ... be.”
“Sounds like heaven,” Tom muttered.
“Then things got tough with Hunter. We were fighting all the time. He said I was working too much. Nadiya said his racism was showing, that he had assumed a South Asian woman would be more traditional, whatever that means.” She rolled her eyes. “The last year Hunter and I were together, Ramadan rolled around, and even though I wasn’t fasting, I stillmissedeverything. Those years without my family, it felt like the other half of my heart was missing. It made no sense, because I was the one who had decided not to return their calls. Then again, it wasn’t as if my parents tried very hard to get in touch. I’m still angry with my dad, in particular, about that.”
Tom was silent at this. “When I’m in Atlanta, I dream about Wolf Run,” he admitted quietly. “About my mother, and Cooke Place, and the forest behind the property. About Toboggan Hill. I miss it so badly sometimes, I can’t think. Then I get here, and it’s like nothinghas changed—my dad is still the way he is, and I get itchy and want to leave.”
Sameera took a step closer, until her nose was buried in his shoulder. His arm went around her waist automatically, and they stood like that for a long moment, drawing strength and comfort from each other.
“It feels better, with you here,” he said, voice muffled against her hair. She looked up at him, and the expression on his face was soft. “Everything feels better with you.”
Their kiss was soft, an acknowledgment of their mutual hurt, a gentle reminder that they had survived, and were capable of making peace with their pasts. She took a deep breath and continued.
“After Hunter left, and I realized how much trouble I was in, I was too humiliated to reach out to them. In the end, Nadiya brought us back together. But sometimes ...” She trailed off. Her fingers played with Tom’s, caressing his knuckles, his forearms, and he let her find comfort from his body. “I think we just decided to move on, without having the hard conversation. You know?”
Tom pointed at himself. “You’re looking at the king of avoidance.”
“And here I thought you were the Prince of Wolf Run,” Sameera said, smiling weakly.
“I can be both,” he said. “‘I contain multitudes.’”
She hugged him again.Yes, you do,she thought. “Even though there’s still work to be done, and even though we all have our moments, I’m grateful to be in my family’s life again,” she said.
Tom chuckled softly. “What you’re really saying is, I should make samosas for my dad.”
“Hey, your samosas are for me. Make Rob something else,” Sameera said, smiling.
Tom seemed thoughtful as he started the camera again, filming as he rolled out the chilled pastry dough and greased four round pie tins before stretching out the dough for the crust. Sameera helped spoon the cooled filling into each tin, and even shared a story from when her brother was five years old. Esa had stolen a frozen pie from thefreezer without their mother realizing it, and ate the entire thing while watching cartoons. He’d confided in Sameera only because he had a stomachache. Tom laughed heartily. She had forgotten about that story.
They covered each pie with another layer of pastry and crimped the edges into a pretty pattern. He sliced ventilation slits in each crust, then eased the pies into the oven to bake. Their video ended when he filmed her taking the first bite, a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, and she moaned her pleasure.
“I want to marry this pie,” she said.
“Marry me instead, and I’ll make you all the pie you want,” he said. It was a joke for the camera, but her heart lurched anyway.
They left a pie for Hilda as a thank-you for the use of her kitchen, and packed two for Abu Isra, which left one half.
“Emily would love this,” he said, and after they hugged Hilda goodbye, they made their way back to the Christmas tree farm. His words jolted Sameera. In the excitement and chaos of the past day, she had almost forgotten about Tom’s ex-girlfriend (fiancée?), and a pang of jealousy made her swallow hard. She had no right to feel this way, especially when she hadn’t yet made up her mind about how she would handle Andy’s request to manipulate Tom.
Sameera kept her thoughts to herself as they walked down Main Street toward the tree farm and the attached house where Jan lived, where Emily was staying while she was in town. Thankfully, Jan was nowhere in sight, and they found Emily chatting on her porch, next to a woman dressed in a bright-orange puffer vest and close-cropped hair dyed a bright blue.
“Hey, Emily. Hi, Jean. I didn’t know you were back in town, too,” Tom said easily, and Sameera noticed that the women were holding hands. “Jean is a pilot with Delta Air, and Emily’s girlfriend,” he explained.
Sameera had believed Tom when he said that he and Emily were only friends. Mostly. But seeing Emily with her girlfriend made herfeel foolish about her initial assumption. She covered quickly. “We flew Delta into Anchorage. Nice ... planes.”
The women were delighted with the half pie, and had already started to dig in when Tom and Sameera took their leave. Abu Isra had invited them to an early dinner, and there was just enough time to walk to his restaurant on the other end of Main Street.
