How To Hate You

chapter 9

"This person should know, I'll make the same choice in another lifetime."

~•~•~•~

May,
2015

One of these days, Dr. Omar would win the trophy for best stepdad in the world. Ikram was more than grateful to her mom for stumbling upon a man as great as him. She had warmed up to him in no time. Maybe it was the way he summons her almost every day to ask if she needs anything or the comic stories of his childhood days he loved sharing. Or maybe it was how he brought home expensive chocolates on weekends just for her. Yet sometimes, the way he cared for her was so overwhelming that Ikram shuts the door to her room and bawls. It made her realize just how much she misses her dad. how much she would give anything to spend one more day with him, listen to his childhood stories, and sneak some chocolate bars when her mom wasn't looking.

At least three times a week, Dr. Omar sits with his family after dinner. It was the time of bringing to his attention any issue and him passing out announcements or judgments. Occasionally they were game nights, and sometimes, they simply nurse cups of hot cocoa in front of the tv.

It was a Tuesday night, the family had pasta and meatballs for dinner. And now they were in the main living room discussing Hamma Asif's fast-approaching wedding. And subsequently her own. Umma and Mama were making plans for a trip to Dubai. Now that the wedding was a months away, the preparations have kicked off earnestly.

"What do you think of this?" Umma and Mama were choosing bags for the bride.

Mama glanced at the picture on Umma's phone. "The colour is a bit off. If we can find it in white, that will be great."

Umma tapped some more on the screen. "It's not available in white. But I'm sure we'll find a similar design." Lately, that is all they have been doing.

Dr. Omar cleared his throat. "Adnan, how is the farm coming up?" Adnan looked up from his laptop. He pushed back his rimmed glasses and replied.

"Everything is fine. We have the hens under prescription so they should be alright. The yogurt machine should arrive sometime this week. The rice is sprouting, all the other crops actually." Dr. Omar nodded pleased. It was the sort of look that spoke so much.

"And how's my little artist?" He turned to Ikram.

"I might get a contract with the new hotel down the street. They said they needed some paintings for their suite and hallways. I'm heading over on Thursday to meet with them." Ikram has been waiting to get that out.

"They will be dense to not give you that contract." Dr. Omar assured proudly. Ikram thought she heard Adnan snort. But he just wasn't worth her attention.

"About that assignment you gave me..." Dr. Omar continued with an easy smile. "I have conducted all necessary background checks and I am delighted with the result. So do well to tell Nabeel to send his elders when you're ready." Habeeba let out a squeal beside Ikram. She assumed, judging by the teasing smiles on both Umma and Mama's faces, that they already knew about. Suhayl was solely focused on the action film playing on the TV. Hamma Asif gave her a pleased nod with one of his famous gentle smiles across the room. When Ikram glanced at Adnan, she was almost sure she would get a reaction from him. Definitely not a positive one, but a reaction nonetheless. Yet the only thing that mattered to Adnan at the moment, was his laptop as he attacked the keyboard furiously.

So Ikram tried to trap in the excitement. "Yes Abba, I will."

It was 11:34 pm when Ikram sent a text to Nabeel. She sent him a thumbs-up emoji. And when his reply came one minute later, asking what the emoji meant, she sent him a quick reply.

This is your cue to proceed if you're sure you want to be stuck with this person for the rest of your life.

Nabeel's reply came a heartbeat later.

This person should know, I'll make the same choice in another lifetime.

~•~•~•~

"Are you sure it's five eggs not three? Why does our dough look runny? Check Beeba, there must be something wrong." Ikram figured she should start tackling her fears one after the other. And today, she was heading toward the direction she never really goes. Baking. Ikram knew how to mix any paint to get any colour, but she certainly does not know how to whisk flour and sugar to get soft fluffy desserts.

Cooking? She can do. Maybe not as good as her mom, but it was still not bad.

Baking? Not even in her dreams.

It was unsettling to her that Nabeel was more of a sugar person. What if he wakes up on a beautiful morning craving some homemade cupcakes? God knows she could hardly provide a burnt offering.

"No, I think we're on track. Don't sweat it. First tries almost never turn out good." Habeeba went through the ingredients in the cookbook once more.

"Okay. What's next?" Ikram calmed her nerves. Habeeba was right, she had some more time. Surely, she'll get one or more recipes right before then.

"Use an ice cream scoop to form balls with your dough. Place each dough slightly apart on a baking sheet. Bake them in the oven for around 10-12 minutes until they are golden brown. Leave the cookies on a cooling rack for around 10 minutes before serving."

"Okay," Ikram says getting a scoop from one of the cabinets. "That should be easy."

It wasn't easy. Mainly because their dough was too runny and crawled across the baking pan. Ikram was left with no other choice than to add a quarter cup more flour which was against the recipe. At this point, Ikram was drained. Both mentally and emotionally.

Roughly ten minutes later, the cookies were in the oven. The girls went through their phones as they waited.

That was one more thing Ikram learned the hard way. That there was only one minute between a nicely baked golden brown cookie and a charcoal black disastrous one. So never get on your phone while baking.

"Oh God! Habeeba, the mitten! Quick!" Ikram had to fan away the smoke with her hands. Habeeba choked on the smoke and rushed out through the back door. When it cleared out a bit, Ikram stared at the black circles on the baking tray in bewilderment. "Thank God Umma and Mama aren't home." She muttered.

"Thank God I caught that epic moment." That voice certainly does not belong to Habeeba. Rather the last person Ikram wanted to face at a moment like this. At any moment actually. "What do we have here?" Ikram wishes she could punch the smirk off his face. "Oh, just a loser doing loser's stuff." Ikram ignored him as she focused on scrapping the cookies off the tray.

"You are going to go viral by tonight." That statement piqued Ikram's interest.

She rushed to where he was standing, zealously tapping at his screen. "Don't tell me you are posting that. Hamma Nanu, please don't." She even called him Hamma, that was how desperate she was.

"Too late sweetheart, I even tagged you so you can read the comments." He smiled sweetly.

~•~•~•~

Becky589: These cookies are darker than the soul of satan.

Theking55: This is cookies abuse right here.

Daddy_at_home: Next time, it's the whole house going down.

Ikram got it. She is the worst baker. No need to rub it in. But it turned out the rest of the world's population was always ready to make fun of your inelegant moments.

Not one positive comment in there. Not a single one. It didn't help that people were also sharing the video so others can watch and laugh. The only relief is that Nabeel hadn't seen it. Yet. And if he did, then he was being awfully quiet about it.

Ikram assumes he hadn't. Because the way he had looked at her when they met a few hours after his parents had come to introduce themselves was nothing sort of disgusting. If anything, it was kind of sweet.

And Adnan, maybe she had underestimated him. But one thing is certain, she needs to up her game if she wants to get back at him this time.