Dad put his tea down. “It was a little too high. She gave me a higher dose of the blood pressure medication. And she would like me to exercise more. But I have to wait for the blood tests to know more.”
“Did she mention anything about you working less?”
“Kamila, I can’t yet. My clients count on me. I told you I just signed on to help Anil Malek launch his new nonprofit. If it goes well, they’ll put Emerald on retainer for all their finance needs.”
“Dad, I can take your clients! I’m used to bigger accounts now. This new tattoo shop has an annual revenue of—”
He shook his head. “Nah, beti. You have your work at the shelter, and your parties, and your own clients.”
“But remember what Dr. Piersanti said! You need to minimize your stress!” Dr. Piersanti was Dad’s last psychotherapist. The one he refused to see anymore, claiming the man didn’t understand how Indian families worked. Which, granted, was true.
Dad patted Kamila’s hand. “There is no need to have this argument now. The test results will be ready in a week. Let’s talk about that then. Would you like me to take Darcy out before bed?”
Kamila exhaled. “Okay. Thanks, Dad. I’m going to turn in.”
While Kamila finally took off the lovely, but frankly not very comfortable, dress, she thought about how to convince Dad to take better care of himself. He was so frustratingly stubborn when it came to work. Kamila didn’t know how much of it was patriarchal whatever from their culture, or if it was because he thought he owed the family after everything that happened after Mom died.
But everything that happened after Mom died was exactly why he deserved to be healthy and happy, maybe more than anyone Kamila knew. He saved Kamila then. And she owed him the world and more for that. But all she could do now was hope those test results were fine. Then all would be good until next year’s physical.
***
On Thursday night Kamila had dinner plans with Maricel so they could work on her business proposal for her puppy academy. Kamila was worried Dad would eat junk if she wasn’t home, though, so she dropped suggestions to Dad that he eat at the home of his closest friend, Rashida Aunty, who Kamila had called to make sure she was cooking a healthy meal that night.
Maricel had chosen a new boba tea place that had just opened on Queen East and was waiting outside the restaurant when Kamila arrived. After taking in her unflattering jeans, T-shirt, and oversized cardigan, Kamila made a mental note to lend her clothes for the next night’s biryani party. Dane had agreed to come, so Maricel needed to shine.
The restaurant, Boba Noodle, was a dark storefront with a minimalistic sign, but Kamila had seen it on just about every “what’s new and hot” list recently. Still, Kamila full-on squealed with delight when she walked in. The interior was pale pink, with huge ferns and palm trees everywhere and a bold floral wallpaper on one wall. It contrasted so well with the golden wood tables and chairs. The whimsy crossed with sophistication was utterly perfect and weirdly matched well with the chic, pink French maid outfit the hostess was wearing.
After they were seated, a cute waiter—sadly, not dressed like Victorian household staff—gave them menus and said he’d be back in five to take their orders.
“So, there’s someone I want you to meet at tomorrow’s party,” Kamila said. “Dane. He’s really good looking and friendly. He loves dogs. I don’t know him too well, but Asha had a background check done before she rented him her condo, and his credit rating is good. He’s a bit of a tech bro but really smart…” She didn’t mention that Dane was the owner of the husky that had tried to eat Maricel when Xena was having her freak-out at the dog park. She was pretty sure Maricel didn’t notice the husky, anyway—she was focused on the hound of hell.
Maricel, who was studying the list of teas like there would be a test later, suddenly frowned. “Tech bro?”
“Yeah. But he owns his own company. Did I mention he loves dogs?”
“Do you know if they have Earl Grey here?”
“Dunno. So, you’re interested, then?”
“I mean, yeah. I love Earl Grey.”
“No, in meeting Dane.”
The cute waiter returned to the table then. “Hi! What can I get for y’all?” he said as he pulled a small notebook from his back pocket.
Kamila hadn’t even opened the menu. “What tea do you recommend”—she looked at his name tag—“Kevin?”
He smiled, rogue dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Well, what do you like?”
Kamila shrugged. “I like green tea.”
“Matcha?”
She nodded. He smiled widely. “Do you like creamy, milky drinks, or fruity ones?”
After discussing her preferences with Kevin, he recommended a mango-matcha smoothie with tapioca pearls. He then grinned at Maricel. “What about you? Same?”
“No. Um,” Maricel stammered. “Um, do you have Earl Grey?”
