"Dadi, are you sure? You are supposed to be resting."
"I have been resting for a week, beta. I need to see the sky and feel the breeze. Please. Just for a little while."
Armaan could never deny her anything. He sighed and stood up.
"Alright. But only for thirty minutes. And you are not walking there yourself."
He scooped her and put her on wheelchair, and I followed them out through the house and into the garden.
The garden was beautiful in the late afternoon light. Mango trees laden with fruit cast dappled shadows across the well maintained lawn. Flower beds burst with color. A stone pathway wound through it all, leading to a sitting area with comfortable chairs.
Armaan settled Dadi into one of the cushioned chairs. Mamta ji appeared moments later, having seen us from the kitchen window, and took a seat beside Dadi. They immediately began chatting about something, their voices low and companionable.
I looked up at the mango tree nearest to us, its branches heavy with ripe fruit. An idea struck me.
"Dadi, would you like some fresh mangoes? I could try to get some down from the tree."
Dadi's face brightened.
"Oh, that would be wonderful, beta. Fresh mangoes are the best medicine."
I looked around and spotted a long bamboo stick leaning against the garden shed. It was the kind used for reaching high branches. I had seen gardeners use them before.
I picked it up and positioned myself under the mango tree, looking up at the fruit hanging just out of reach. I raised the bamboo stick and tried to hook it around a branch to shake loose a mango.
Nothing happened.
I tried again, pushing the stick higher, wiggling it back and forth.
Still nothing.
The mangoes hung there stubbornly, refusing to fall despite my best efforts. I could hear Dadi and Mamta ji laughing softly behind me, clearly amused by my struggle.
"This is harder than it looks," I muttered to myself, adjusting my grip on the stick.
I was so focused on the task that I did not hear footsteps approaching behind me.
Suddenly, I felt a warm hand close over mine on the bamboo stick. Strong arms came around me from behind, guiding my movements. I could feel the solid presence of Armaan's body pressed against my back, his chest against my shoulders.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Like this," he said softly, his voice close to my ear. His breath ghosted across my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You need to hook it around the branch and then pull down sharply."
I could not concentrate on the mangoes anymore. All I could focus on was how close he was. How I could feel the warmth of him radiating through my clothes. How his arms surrounded me completely, making me feel small and protected.
He was looking up at the tree, completely focused on the task. But I could not look anywhere except at his hands covering mine, at the way his forearms flexed as he manipulated the stick.
Those butterflies in my stomach that seemed to appear whenever he was near were going absolutely wild now.
"Are you even trying?" His voice held a hint of amusement. "I can feel you just standing there."
Heat flooded my cheeks. I forced myself to focus on the mango tree, to help him push and pull the stick.
Together, we hooked the bamboo around a branch laden with fruit. Armaan pulled down sharply, and with a soft thud, a perfectly ripe mango fell to the ground.
"Got it!" I exclaimed, immediately dropping the stick and running forward to retrieve the mango before it could roll away.
I picked it up triumphantly and turned back to show Armaan, a huge smile on my face.
